Go Back at Once by Robert Aickman

Author:Robert Aickman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Ruritanian;Utopian;Dystopian;Queer;Poet;Firbank;Corvo;Ghost;Strange;Fantasy;D’Annunzio;Italian;Edward Gorey
Publisher: And Other Stories Publishing
Published: 2021-12-13T18:55:35+00:00

‌Chapter Thirty-Seven

Preparations for Work

Cressida looked at her watch. It showed twenty-five minutes past twelve. She wondered if the works had been affected by the foreign air; sea air at that. Perhaps an adjustment of some kind was always necessary. She shook her wrist tentatively, but the time shown remained the same.

She had never in her life slept until that hour all on her own; only when enduring the inevitable sicknesses of immaturity in various forms, rashes, whoops, migraines.

She looked at the other beds. Only Desirée was still in position. She was also still asleep. The beds, including Vivien’s, were in a tumbled state. Perceptibly, Vivien was being drawn into some accepted collectivity, to which Cressida still felt impervious—or was still uninvited.

Cressida realised that a scrap of paper had been stuffed under her pillow. ‘Having a look round with the others. Love, Vivien.’

Cressida felt excessively wakeful, as one always does when one is in bed and does not know how to proceed. She wished that Desirée would wake up. She simply did not fancy putting on her clothes and setting forth alone.

There was a clatter. A man, palpably a man, was leaping up the stairs. Harry Crass flung back the door of the dormitorio and flung himself in.

‘I’m sorry, Cressida,’ he said, with real Canadian contrition, ‘I should’ve knocked.’

Cressida was inclined to agree with him.

‘Rise and shine, Desirée girl,’ cried Harry Crass affably.

Desirée continued to sleep.

‘She works so hard,’ explained Harry Crass. Then he respectfully touched her on one of the carotid arteries with the hand from which the half-finger was missing.

Desirée screamed girlishly. Then she exclaimed, ‘Harry!’

‘Come on up as soon as you can will you, Desirée? We’re like a box of mixed biscuits without you.’

‘I’ll come soon,’ said Desirée, turning over on to her back. ‘Now, go away, Harry, please.’

‘It’s real nice in here,’ said Harry. Cressida was a little relieved that his eyes seemed mainly for Desirée.

‘You can’t be on duty again as soon as this?’ Cressida speculated as soon as Harry Crass had clattered out and shut the door.

‘I could quite easily be up there night and day,’ said Desirée. ‘It’s a privilege really.’

‘Where exactly is “up there”?’

‘In the Residency. It stands high, you know.’

‘Is that where the Tower is that Vittore comes out on each morning?’

‘Right at the very top.’

‘It seems a long way off?’

‘A natural leader always keeps a certain mystery.’

‘What’s the Tower for otherwise?’

‘It was built so that the ladies could watch the naval battles in the old days.’

‘If I’m to work in the theatre, will you show me where the theatre is?’

‘Of course I will, Cressida. I spoke to you about Vittoria last night.’

‘Who is Vittoria?’

‘The theatre’s under a man named Colossi. He is one of the biggest theatre people in the world. I’m sure you’ve heard of him. But Vittoria does most of the actual work. She’s frightfully nice.’

‘Can she speak English?’

‘Fluently. She was brought up in Alexandria.’

‘Does anyone go to the theatre? When the town’s half empty, I mean?’

‘The Commendatore goes. That’s the great thing.

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