Madame Sousatzka by Bernice Rubens

Author:Bernice Rubens
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2013-08-23T04:00:00+00:00

11

On the following Friday, as they were getting ready to go to Vauxhall Mansions, Marcus tried to hide his nervousness, his excitement and also his guilt. No one had told his mother about the salon. He knew that she had a right to be there. But if she came there would be so many complications, not the least being the Jenny affair. In any case, he couldn’t see her fitting in with those kind of people; he would have been ashamed of her. And it was this that worried him more than anything.

She was straightening her hat in the mirror. ‘Today, such a nice hat I saw, Marcus,’ she said. ‘I thought for the concert I’d buy it.’

‘What colour is it?’

‘Brown.’

‘Oh Momma, I hate brown. Why don’t you have a change?’

‘It is a change. Only in colour is the same.’

‘Let me choose a colour for you,’ he said. He felt suddenly that the whole future of their relationship depended on the colour of her hat.

‘I like brown,’ she said. ‘Is my colour. Anyway, I already bought it,’ she smiled.

‘Let me see.’ Marcus wanted to know the worst right away.

‘No. Is a surprise for you,’ she chuckled like a child. ‘At the concert you will see it. You will be proud.’

Marcus doubted it. His mother had last bought a hat for his ninth birthday pantomime treat. That was almost three years ago. He looked forward dismally to yet another three brown years.

He picked up her shopping bag. Marcus wondered fleetingly whether she would bring it to the concert. He would have to hide it somewhere.

‘Let’s go,’ he said helplessly. He felt less guilty about the salon now. It was all her fault. If she insisted on buying a brown hat, what chance was she giving him?

But on the journey to Vauxhall Mansions the guilt came flooding back. As she took out her black purse to pay their fares on the bus, carefully counting out the brown pennies, he moved closer to her; as she took the tickets and stuffed them into her bag, where they no doubt joined the tickets from their first journey to Vauxhall Mansions almost a year ago, he said suddenly under his breath, hoping and fearing that she would hear, ‘I love you, Momma.’ And when he left her at Vauxhall Mansions, he kissed her. He watched her out of the Square and was disturbed that he didn’t feel any easier.

He pushed the door open with his shoulder, and even before stepping into the hall he called out, ‘Madame Sousatzka,’ like a password.

‘We’re downstairs,’ Cordle’s voice came from the basement. Marcus ran down to Uncle’s room. Everyone had collected there for the dress rehearsal. A strong smell of antiseptics filled the room. Marcus noticed that Jenny’s raised right hand was covered with a sticky yellow ointment. Cordle was bandaging it with meticulous care, gently avoiding pressure on the imagined burns.

‘You like Beethoven?’ Sousatzka was saying.

‘Oh, I think it’s lovely,’ said Jenny.

‘That won’t do at all,’ said Cordle. ‘Beethoven isn’t lovely.

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