cb.imajica2-第32章

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she　parked　in　a　side　street　and　approached　on　foot。　There　were　no　vehicles　in　the　forecourt　and　no　sign　of　life　at　any　of　the　windows；　but　she　marched　to　the　front　door　and　rang　the　bell；　hoping　there　might　be　a　caretaker　she　could　persuade　to　let　her　in。　She'd　use　Oscar's　name　as　a　reference；　she　decided。　Though　she　knew　this　was　playing　with　fire；　there　was　no　time　for　niceties。　Whether　Gentle's　ambitions　as　a　Reconciler　were　realized　or　not；　the　days　ahead　would　be　charged　with　possibilities。　Things　sealed　were　cracking；　things　silent　were　drawing　breath　to　speak。
　The　door　remained　closed；　though　she　rang　and　rapped　several　times。　Frustrated；　she　headed　around　the　back　of　the　building；　the　route　more　choked　by　barbs　and　stings　than　ever。　The　tower's　shadow　chilled　the　ground　where　Clara　had　dropped　and　died；　and　the　earth；　which　was　badly　drained；　smelled　of　stagnancy。　Until　she　walked　here　the　thought　of　finding　any　fragments　of　the　blue　eye　had　not　occurred　to　her；　but　perhaps　it　had　been　part　of　her　unconscious　agenda　from　the　start。　Finding　no　hope　of　access　on　this　side　of　the　building；　she　turned　her　attention　to　seeking　the　pieces。　Though　her　recollections　of　what　had　happened　here　were　strong；　she　couldn't　pinpoint　with　any　accuracy　the　place　where　Dowd's　mites　had　devoured　the　stone；　and　she　wandered　around　for　fully　an　hour；　searching　through　the　long　grass　for　some　sign。　Her　patience　was　finally　rewarded；　however。　Much　farther　from　the　tower　than　she'd　ever　have　guessed；　she　found　what　the　devourers　had　left。　It　was　little　more　than　a　pebble；　which　anybody　but　herself　would　have　passed　over。　But　to　her　eyes　its　blue　was　unmistakable；　and　when　she　knelt　to　pick　it　up　she　was　almost　reverential。　It　looked　like　an　egg；　she　thought；　lying　there　in　a　nest　of　grass；　waiting　for　the　warmth　of　a　body　to　kindle　the　life　in　it。
　As　she　stood　up　she　heard　the　sound　of　car　doors　slamming　on　the　other　side　of　the　building。　Keeping　the　stone　in　her　hand　she　slipped　back　down　the　side　of　the　tower。　There　were　voices　in　the　forecourt：　men　and　women　exchanging　words　of　wele。　At　the　corner；　she　had　a　glimpse　of　them。　Here　they　were；　the　Tabula　Rasa。　In　her　imagination　she'd　elevated　them　to　the　dubious　status　of　Grand　Inquisitors；　austere　and　merciless　judges　whose　cruelty　would　be　gouged　into　their　faces。　There　was　perhaps　one　among　this　quartet…the　eldest　of　the　three　men…who　would　not　have　looked　absurd　in　robes；　but　the　others　had　an　insipidity　about　their　features　and　a　sloth　in　their　bearing　that　would　have　made　them　bathetic　in　any　garb　but　the　most　bland。　None　looked　particularly　happy　with　his　lot。　To　judge　by　their　leaden　eyes；　sleep　had　failed　to　befriend　them　lately。　Nor　could　their　expensive　clothes　（everything　charcoal　and　black）　conceal　the　lethargy　in　their　limbs。
　She　waited　at　the　corner　until　they'd　disappeared　through　the　front　door；　hoping　the　last　had　left　it　ajar。　But　it　was　once　again　locked；　and　this　time　she　declined　to　knock。　While　she　might　have　brazened　or　flattered　her　way　past　a　caretaker；　none　of　the　quartet　she'd　seen　would　have　spared　her　an　inch。　As　she　stepped　away　from　the　door　another　car　turned　off　the　road　and　glided　into　the　forecourt。　Its　driver　was　a　male；　and　the　youngest　of　the　arrivees。　It　was　too　late　to　dodge　for　cover；　so　she　raised　her　hand　in　a　cheery　way　and　picked　up　her　pace　to　a　smart　trot。
　As　she　came　abreast　of　the　vehicle　it　halted。　She　kept　on　walking。　Once　past　it；　she　heard　the　car　door　open　and　a　fruity；　overeducated　voice　said；　〃You　there！　What　are　you　doing？〃
　She　kept　up　her　trot；　resisting　the　temptation　to　run　even　though　she　heard　his　feet　on　the　gravel；　then　another　haughty　holler　as　he　came　in　pursuit。　She　ignored　him　until　she　was　at　the　property　line　and　he　was　within　grasping　distance　of　her。　Then　she　turned；　with　a　pretty　smile；　and　said；　〃Did　you　call？〃
　〃This　is　a　private　ground；〃　he　replied。
　〃I'm　sorry；　I　must　have　the　wrong　address。　You're　not　a　gynecologist；　are　you？〃　Where　this　invention　sprang　from　she　didn't　know；　but　it　colored　his　cheeks　in　two　pulses。　〃I　need　to　see　a　doctor　as　soon　as　possible。〃
　He　shook　his　head；　covered　in　confusion。　〃This　isn't　the　hospital；〃　he　spluttered。　〃It's　halfway　down　the　hill。〃
　Lord　bless　the　English　male；　she　thought；　who　could　be　reduced　to　near　idiocy　at　the　very　mention　of　matters　vaginal。
　〃Are　you　sure　you're　not　a　doctor？〃　she　said；　enjoying　his　disfiture。　〃Even　a　student？　I　don't　mind。〃
　He　actually　took　a　step　back　from　her　at　this；　as　though　she　was　going　to　pounce　on　him　and　demand　an　examination　on　the　spot。
　〃No；　I'm…I'm　sorry。〃
　〃So　am　I；〃　she　said；　extending　her　hand。　He　was　too　baffled　to　refuse；　and　shook　it。　〃I'm　Sister　Concupiscentia；〃　she　said。
　〃Bloxham；〃　he　replied。
　〃You　should　be　a　gynecologist；〃　she　said　appreciatively。　〃You've　got　lovely　warm　hands。〃　And　with　that　she　left　him　to　his　blushes。
　
　There　was　a　message　from　Chester　Klein　on　the　answering　machine　when　she　got　back；　inviting　her　to　a　cocktail　party　at　his　house　that　evening；　in　celebration　of　what　he　called　the　Bastard　Boy's　return　to　the　land　of　the　living。　She　was　at　first　startled　that　Gentle　had　decided　to　make　contact　with　his　friends　after　all　his　talk　of　invisibility；　then　flattered　that　he'd　taken　her　advice。　Perhaps　she'd　been　over…hasty　in　her　rejection　of　him。　Even　in　the　short　time　she'd　spent　in　Yzordderrex；　the　city　had　made　her　think　and　behave　in　ways　she'd　never　have　countenanced　in　the　Fifth。　How　much　more　so　for　Gentle；　whose　catalogue　of　adventures　in　the　Dominions　would　have　filled　a　dozen　diaries。　Now　he　was　back　in　the　Fifth；　perhaps　he　was　resisting　some　of　those　bizarrer　influences；　like　a　man　returned　to　civilization　from　some　lost　tribe；　sluicing　off　the　war　paint　and　learning　to　wear　shoes　again。　She　called　Klein　back　and　accepted　the　invitation。
　〃My　dear　child；　you　are　a　sight　for　sore　eyes；〃　he　said　when　she　appeared　on　his　doorstep　that　evening。　〃So　stylishly　unnourished！　Malnutrition　a　la　mode。　Perfection。〃
　She　hadn't　seen　him　in　a　long　time；　but　she　didn't　remember　his　ever　being　so　fulsome　in　his　flattery　before。　He　kissed　her　on　both　cheeks　and　led　her　through　the　house　into　the　back　garden。　There　was　still　warmth　in　the　descending　sun；　and　his　other　guests…two　of　whom　she　knew；　two　of　whom　were　strangers…were　sipping　cocktails　on　the　lawn。　Though　small　and　high…walled；　the　garden　was　almost　tropically　lush。　Inevitably；　given　Klein's　nature；　it　was　entirely　given　over　to　flowering　species；　no　bush　or　plant　weled　if　it　didn't　bloom　with　immoderate　abandon。　He　introduced　her　to　the　pany　one　by　one；　starting　with　Vanessa；　whose　face…though　much　changed　since　they'd　last　met…was　one　of　the　two　she　knew。　She　had　put　on　a　good　deal　of　weight　and　even　more　makeup；　as　though　to　cover　one　excess　with　another。　Her　eyes；　Jude　saw　when　she　said　hello；　were　those　of　a　woman　who　was　only　holding　back　a　scream　for　decorum's　sake。
　〃Is　Gentle　with　you？〃　was　Vanessa's　first　question。　〃No；　he's　not；〃　Klein　said。　〃Now　have　another　drink　and　go　and　dally　in　the　rosebushes。〃
　The　woman　took　no　offense　at　his　condescension　but　made　straight　for　the　champagne　bottle；　while　Klein　introduced　Jude　to　the　two　strangers　in　the　party。　One；　a　balding　young　man　in　sunglasses；　he　introduced　as　Duncan　Skeet。
　〃A　painter；〃　he　said。　〃Or；　more　precisely；　an　impressionist。　Isn't　that　right；　Duncan？　You　do　impressions；　don't　you？　Modigliani；　Corot；　Gauguin。。。。〃
　The　joke　was　lost　on　its　butt；　though　not　on　Jude。　〃Isn't　that　illegal？〃　she　said。
　〃Only　if　you　don't　talk　about　it；〃　Klein　replied；　which　remark　brought　a　guffaw　from　the　fellow　in　conversation　with　the　faker；　a　heavily　mustached　and　accented　individual　called　Luis。
　〃Who's　not　a　painter　of　any　persuasion。　You're　not　anything　at　all；　are　you；　Luis？〃
　〃How　about　a　Lotos…eater？〃　Luis　said。　The　scent　Jude　had　taken　to　be　that　of　the　blossoms　in　the　borders　was　in　fact　Luis'　aftershave。
　〃I'll　drink　to　that；〃　Klein　said；　moving　Jude　on　to　the　last　of　the　pany。　Though　Jude　knew　the　woman's　face　she　couldn't　place　it；　until　Klein　named　her…Simone…and　she　remembered　the　conversation　she'd　had　at　Clem　and　Taylor's；　which　had　ended　with　this　woman　heading　off　in　search　of　seduction。　Klein　left　them　to　talk　while　he　went　inside　to　break　open　another　bottle　of　champagne。
　〃We　met　at　Christmas；〃　Simone　said。　〃I　don't　know　if　you　remember？〃
　〃Instantly；〃　Jude　said。
　〃I've　had　my　hair　chopped　since　then；　and　1　swear　half　my　friends　don't　recognize　me。〃
　〃It　suits　you。〃
　〃Klein　says　I　should　have　kept　it　and　had　it　made　into　jewelry。　Apparently　hair　brooches　were　the　height　of　fashion　at　the　turn　of　the　century。〃
　〃Only　as　memento　mori；〃　Jude　said。　Simone　looked　blank。　〃The　hair　was　usually　from　someone　who'd　died。〃
　The　woman's　fizz…addled　features　still　took　a　little　time　to　register　what　she　was　being　told；　but　when　she　grasped　the　point　she　let　out　a　groan　of　disgust。
　〃I　suppose　that's　his　idea　of　a　joke；〃　she　said。　〃He　has　no　sense　of　fucking　decency；　that　man。〃　Klein　was　appearing　from　the　back　door；　bearing　champagne。　〃Yes；　you！〃　Simone　said。　〃Don't　you　take　death　seriously？〃
　〃Have　I　missed　something？〃　Klein　said。
　〃You　are　a　tasteless　old　fart　sometimes！〃　Simone　went　on；　striding　toward　him　and　throwing　the　glass　down　at　his　feet。
　〃What　did　I　do？〃　Klein　said。
　Luis　went　to　his　assistance；　cooing　at　Simone　to　calm　her。　Jude　had　no　desire　to　get　further　embroiled。　She　retreated　down　one　of　the　paths；　her　hand　slipping　into　the　deep　pocket　of　her　skirt；　where　the　egg　of　the　blue　eye　was　lying。　She　closed　her　palm　around　it　and　stooped　to　sniff　at　one　of　the　perfect　roses。　It　had　no　scent；　not　even　of　life。　She　thumbed　its　petals。　They　were　dry。　She　stood　up　again；　casting　her　eyes　over　the　spectacle　of　blossoms。　Fake；　every　last　one。
　Simone's　caterwauling　had　ceased　behind　her；　and　now　so　did　Luis'　chatter。　Jude　looked　around；　and　there　at　the　back　door；　stepping　out　of　the　house　into　the　warm　evening　light；　was　Gentle。
　〃Save　me；〃　she　heard　Klein　imploring。　〃Before　I'm　flayed　alive；〃
　Gentle　smiled　his　sun…shamer　and　opened　his　arms　to　Klein。
　〃No　more　arguments；〃　he　said；　hugging　the　man。　〃Tell　Simone；〃　Klein　replied。　〃Simone。　Are　you　bullying　Chester？〃　〃He　was　being　a　bastard。〃
　〃No；　I'm　the　bastard。　Give　me　a　kiss；　and　tell　me　you　forgive　him。〃
　〃I　forgive　him。〃
　〃Peace　on　earth；　goodwill　to　Chester。〃
　There　was　laughter　from　all　parties；　and　Gentle　passed　through　the　pany　with　kisses；　hugs；　and　handshakes；　reserving　the　longest；　and　perhaps　the　crudest；　embrace　for　Vanessa。
　〃You're　missing　somebody；〃　Klein　said；　and　steered　Gentle's　glance　towards　Jude。
　He　didn't　lavish　his　smile　upon　her。　She　was　wise　to　his　devices；　and　he　knew　it。　Instead　he　offered　her　an　almost　apologetic　look　and　raised　the　glass　Klein　had　already　put　in　his　hand　in　her　direction。　He'd　always　been　a　slick　transformer　（perhaps　it　was　the　Maestro　in　him；　surfacing　as　a　trivial　skill）；　and　in　the　twenty…four　hours　or　so　since　she'd　left　him　on　his　doorstep　he'd　made　himself　new。　The　ragged　locks　were　trimmed；　the　grimy　face　washed　and　shaved。　Dressed　in　white；　he　looked　like　a　cricketer　returned　from　the　crease；　glowing