Death of the Body by C. K. Stead

Author:C. K. Stead [C. K. Stead]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House
Published: 2000-02-03T00:00:00+00:00

SEVENTEEN

Leaving Milan

THAT SNOW, AND Uta’s departure south – I’d thought they might bring me luck. I’d started to think of Uta as a burden, but I was wrong. Now I was stuck. The voice in my head, which I thought of as the voice from the blue folder, was silent. The Story was missing its quarrels with Uta and didn’t feel quite safe without them.

I tried to be systematic, orderly. In the past when I’d run into problems I’d taken long brisk walks about the city. But in the district around the Corso Magenta the snow hadn’t been swept. I suppose they expected it to melt but it didn’t and now it was frozen. You picked your way along, sliding and saving yourself. The local hospital had run out of plaster of Paris, there had been so many broken bones. The best I could do out of doors was make my way down to the café.

The padrone welcomed me as usual and left me pretty much alone. Now we didn’t have Uta to translate the difficult bits, our conversation had gone back to basics. He left me to work, encouraging me now and then from behind the machine with phrases like “Let ’em have it, Maestro” picked up from American movies on late night television. Sometimes, if business wasn’t brisk and a loud conversation started up near me, he would find another table for the talkers, pretending it would be more comfortable for them, or warmer, but really moving them away so I wouldn’t be disturbed.

I made marks on paper. I stared thoughtfully at the ceiling for his benefit. But nothing was happening. I tried working in my room. I even, guiltily, tried another café. None of these things helped. I was hopelessly stuck.

Notes began to come up from Rapallo. Then phone calls. Uta wanted me to say what had happened when Harry and Mandy were in Singapore. I consulted the Story. It had no objections. It made no reply. I told Uta that was as good a place as any to go next, but still nothing went down on paper.

Uta was very particular in her questioning. I wanted to conceal from her that I was stuck. It seemed unprofessional – something to be ashamed of. But it was no use trying to hide it from her. She knew. “How many pages today,” she asked, and I had to tell her “None.”

“Think it out loud,” she told me. “Tell me what you want to put down next. You’ve done that before. It helps you get started.”

I tried, but my mind went blank. I felt as if I was losing my grip on the facts. She had phoned me at the café and the padrone was standing behind me holding his hands together over his stomach in a pose that suggested anxiety.

“Listen,” Uta said. “Didn’t Harry tell Phil about what happened in Singapore?”

“Yes,” I replied. “Of course he did. Phil pestered him and in the end he spilled the beans.”

“Well there you have it,” she said.

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