By whom?
What for?
Meanwhile he is a star figure in the local youth movements. And it makes me sick. Benjamin says George needs to show off. Well, that is of course what I cannot help thinking. But in my experience what Benjamin thinks is nearly always wrong. It comes out of his being jealous. Like me. At least I know that I am jealous and Benjamin doesn't seem to. Anyway I come more and more to the conclusion that what I think isn't worth anything. I seem to myself more and more a sort of sack full of emotions. Swilling around. I am angry. I don't know what about. I am so angry I could die. Sometimes I watch these emotions go surging past. Hi there anger! Hi there jealousy! Hi everyone! This is Rachel saying hello!
I have to put down what I feel about Suzannah. I think Suzannah is awful. Mother is very patient when Suzannah comes, and Father is extremely humorous. She is a loud, vulgar, stupid, flashy girl. She is crazy about George. Well girls crazy about George are like the sands of the seashore. So why Suzannah?
I asked Mother. (She is back from the epidemic. But she is leaving for the famine next week.) She said: George is seventeen and a half. She said that George was seventeen at least ten times in half an hour. That was about all she could say about it. Meanwhile I could see she was wishing I would stop yapping at her. Yap yap yap, like a little dog. I could see myself. I asked Father. He said, Suzannah is extremely physically attractive. I can't bear this. Furthermore I don't believe George sleeps with Suzannah. I said to Benjamin who was making a lot of coarse remarks, George certainly does not sleep with Suzannah. He said, Darling little sister, what do you think they do during these starlit nights? I said he was stupid and didn't understand George.
I said to George, Do you sleep with Suzannah, and he said Yes.
When he said that what I felt was that he had hit me. So I cried a lot. If George could sleep with Suzannah, then nothing mattered. How can he? It is an insult. I mean, to girls who are serious. I just feel that everything is spoiled. And Benjamin is quite right I am afraid. He says George is a power-lover and he is. So that's that.
I wrote that last bit several weeks ago. It has been a very bad epoch in my life. Benjamin suddenly started being very nice to me and I and Benjamin went out a lot. Several times, quite by chance - though I know our parents don't believe this, Benjamin and I were in cafes where George was with Suzannah. When George is with Suzannah, so it would seem, he is quite different from what he is at home with us. He is very funny. He laughs a lot. Not a care in the world. Showing off. I just wanted to be sick. But then Benjamin started to show off too, and more than once called across to George and Suzannah with all sorts of Jokes. I wanted to die. So then I said I wouldn't go out with Benjamin. I stayed at home. I did badly with my school work. And then Mother talked to me. She was disappointed in me. I know she and Father had talked. I'm not stupid. She came into my bedroom one night. I was crying. I said to her at once, All right, you and Father think I am jealous of George. She said to me, That's not the point at all. I said to her, All right then, what? - for already I could see a new perspective. She said to me, George isn't a saint, he isn't some sort of a paragon. But the point is, he is not yet eighteen years old.
I said, I think it is all disgusting.
She said, as humorous as you can get, Rachel, what is disgusting?
I said, Olga, George is a person who sits in a room and think that if there are thirty people in it, then there are thirty intestines full of shit, thirty bladders full of pee, thirty noses full of snot, and three hundred pints of blood. So I suppose if he is in a cafe with Suzannah, with those fat boobs of hers hanging out, he is thinking, two intestines full of shit, two bladders full of pee, two noses of snot, two bodies full of sweat, and twenty pints of blood. Not to mention 700 million sperm and an egg. And an erection and a vagina.
Olga sits down. She lights a cigarette. She leans back. She folds her arms. She sighs. She says, When did he say things like that? Getting at once to the point.
He was... it was a long time ago.
I daresay he might have added a dimension or two since then.
Well, I can't stand it, I said to her. I can't stand life. That's the truth of it.
I had half a thought that she would put her arms around me and comfort me. But although that is what I was wanting before she came in, when she was actually there I would have been ashamed if she had.
She said: You do not have any alternative, Rachel. Because you can either stand it, or commit suicide. Or live in such a way that it is as good as committing suicide. And there is evidence to suggest - here she was being humorous the way Father is, she has caught it off him—there is evidence to suggest that there is hell to pay. Literally. But in any case we do not commit suicide. And the way she said this was different from anything I had ever heard from her, full of pride. Really grim. It was as if she had slapped me or flung me into freezing water. I suddenly saw her quite differently. I saw that she was a person. Not my mother. She had thought it all out. She had wanted to commit suicide. She would never commit suicide. On that night I grew up. Or so I would like to believe.
I have been thinking about Olga's life. I have been trying to put myself in her place, always in camps full of refugees, dying people, starving people, people dying of diseases, babies dying. When I was with her in the epidemic that time I saw her crying over a room full of dying babies. No one else was there. She was very tired, that was why she was crying. Ever since I can remember, my mother has been working with people dying in one way or another. She is always in places where it is truly hell. Always. And that is true for my father too. I see that I am extremely childish.
What I am writing now happened three nights ago. I could not write it down before, it was too difficult. Now I have thought about it. Very late I heard George come in. It was four in the morning. It was very hot. It was that time when night is still absolutely here but morning is here but you can't see it only feel it. Outside in the streets it was silent in that particular way. I would know any city I have been in by the silence at four in the morning. George had come in. I could hear him in his room. I went to his door and knocked. He did not answer. I went in. He was just slipping down his trousers and I saw him. Our family has never made a thing about nakedness, but what I was thinking was, That has been inside that awful cow. He turned his back, so I saw his buttocks and his back and he put on his pyjamas. Then he got into bed and lay down with his arms behind his head. George is very beautiful. But if he were ugly it would be the same. He was very tired. He wished I wasn't there. Exactly like my parents, affectionate and patient. He said to me, Rachel you aren't being kind. I was expecting him to say, Fair. When we use words like Fair, Olga and Simon always laugh and say we haven't stopped being British and childish. But he said Kind. So I said to him, I don't care, George. I don't understand. So he said, Well Rachel there isn't anything at all I can do.
There I was standing at the door, and he was in bed and his eyes kept closing.
He said, Rachel, what is it you want?
At this I was slapped in the face again. Because of course I wanted him to say I hate Suzannah, she is a clumsy vulgar idiot. But he wouldn't in a hundred years.