knew that if she saw it every day for twenty years, it would still
disturb her.
Debra laughed again at something David had said and turned her face to
him, offering her mouth with a touching innocence.
What a terrible thing to say, she laughed. I think a gesture of
contrition is called for, and responded eagerly as the great ravaged
head bent to her and the thin slit of a mouth touched hers.
it was disquieting to see the lovely dark face against that mask of
ruined flesh, and yet it was also strangely moving.
it was the right thing. For once I did the right thing, Ella decided,
watching them, and feeling a vague envy.
These two were bound together completely, made strong by their separate
afflictions. Before it had been a mutual itching of the flesh, a chance
spark struck from two minds meeting, but now it was something that
transcended that.
Ella recalled regretfully a long line of lovers stretching back to the
shadowy edges of her memory, receding images which seemed unreal now. if
only there had been something to bind her to one of those, if only she
had been left with something more valuable than half remembered words
and faded memories of brief mountings and furtive couplings. She
sighed, and they looked at her questioning A sad sound, Ella, darling,
Debra said. We are selfish, please forgive us. Not sad, my children,
Ella denied hotly, scattering the old phantoms of her memory. I am
happy for you.
You have something very wonderful, strong and bright and wonderful.
Protect it as you would your life. She took up her wine glass. I give
you a toast. I give you David and Debra, and a love made invincible by
suffering. And they were serious for a moment while they drank the
toast together in golden yellow wine, sitting in golden yellow sunlight,
then the mood resumed and they were gay once more.
Once the first desperate demands of their bodies had been met, once they
had drawn as close together as physical limits would allow, then they
began a coupling of the spirit. They had never really spoken before,
even when they had shared the house on Malik Street, they had used only
the superficial word symbols.
Now they began learning really to talk. Some nights they did not sleep
but spent the fleeting hours of darkness in exploring each other's minds
and bodies, and they delighted to realize that this exploration would
never be completed, for the areas of their minds were boundless.
During the day the blind girl taught David to see. He found that he had
never truly used his eyes before, and now that he must see for both of
them he had to learn to make the fullest use of his sight. He must
learn to describe colour and shape and movement accurately and
incisively, for Debra's demands were insatiable.
In turn, David, whose own confidence had been shattered by his
disfigurement, taught confidence to the girl.
She learned to trust him implicitly as he grew to anticipate her needs.
She learned to step out boldly beside him, knowing that he would guide
or caution her with a light touch or a word. Her world had shrunk to
the small area about the cottage the jetty within which she could find
her way surely. Now with David beside her, her frontiers fell back and
she was free to move wherever she chose.
Yet they ventured ut together only cautiously at first, wandering along
the lakeside together or climbing the hills towards Nazareth, and each
day they swam in the green lake waters and each night they made love in
the curtained alcove.
David grew hard and lean and suntanned again, and it seemed they were
complete for when Ella asked, Debra, when are you going to make a start
on the new book?
she laughed and answered lightly. Sometime within the next hundred
years. A week later she asked of David this time. Have you decided
what you are going to do yet, Davey? just what I'm doing now, he said,
and Debra backed him up quickly. For ever! she said. Just like this
for ever. Then without thinking about it, without really steeling
themselves to it, they went to where they would meet other people in the
mass.
David borrowed the speedboat, picked up a shopping list from Ella, and
they planed down along the take shore to Tiberias, with the white wake
churning out behind them and the wind and drops of spray in their faces.
They moored in the tiny harbour of the marina at Lido Beach and walked
up into the town. David was so engrossed with Debra that the crowds
around him were unreal, and although he noticed a few curious glances
they meant very little to him.
Although it was early in the season, the town was filled with visitors,
and the buses were parked in the square at the foot of the hill and
along the lake front, for this was full on the tourist route.
David carried a plastic bag that grew steadily heavier until it was
ready to overflow.
Bread, and that's the lot, Debra mentally ticked off the list.
They went down the hill under the eucalyptus trees and found a table on
the harbour wall, beneath the gaily coloured umbrella.
They sat touching each other and drank cold beer and ate pistachio nuts,
oblivious of everything and everybody about them even though the other
tables were crowded with tourists. The lake sparkled and the softly
rounded hills seemed very close in the bright light. Once a flight of
Phantoms went booming down the valley, flying low on some mysterious
errand, and David watched them dwindle southward without regrets.
When the sun was low they went to where the speedboat was moored, and
David handed Debra down into it. On the wall above them sat a party of
tourists, probably on some package pilgrimage, and they were talking
animatedly, their accents were Limehouse, Golders Green and Merseyside,
although the subtleties of prommciation were lost of David.
He started the motor and pushed off from the wall, steering for the
harbour mouth with Debra sitting close beside him and the motor burbling
softly.
A big red-face tourist looked down from the wall and supposing that the
motor covered his voice, nudged his wife.
Get a look at those two, Mavis. Beauty and the beast, isn't it? 'Cork
it, Bert. They might understand.
Go on, luv! They only talk Yiddish or whatever. Debra felt David's arm
go rigid under her hand, felt him begin to pull away, sensing his
outrage and anger but she gripped his forearm tightly and restrained
him. Let's go, Davey, darling. Leave them, please. Even when they
were alone in the safety of the cottage, David was silent and she could
feel the tension in his body and the air was charged with it.
They ate the evening meal of bread and cheese and fish and figs in the
same strained silence. Debra could think of nothing to say to distract
him for the careless words had wounded her as deeply. Afterwards she
lay unsleeping beside him. He lay on his back, not touching her, with
his arms at his sides and his fists clenched.
When at last she could bear it no longer, she turned to him and stroked
his face, still not knowing what to say.
it was David who broke the silence at last.
I want to go away from people. We don't need people do we? 'No, she
whispered. We don't need them. There is a place called Jabulani. It
is deep in the African bushveld, far from the nearest town. My father