Malcolm by James Purdy

Author:James Purdy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Liveright
Published: 2015-08-14T16:00:00+00:00

“I KNOW YOU are lonely, my dear,” Eloisa said to Madame Girard on the phone. “But you can’t can’t come here. No, no, no, my dear, you cannot!”

“But you have a young man there named Malcolm,” Madame Girard’s voice boomed. “And I wish to bring him to my home to stay. No, I haven’t as yet considered adoption. It’s not quite that kind of relationship, but of course it may come to that.”

“But, Madame Girard,” Eloisa implored. “You know I am painting his portrait.” Eloisa regretted she had given this piece of information at once.

“Then I must purchase it at once,” Madame Girard exclaimed. “Do you hear . . . I have not been so taken with a young person in years.”

Eloisa motioned to Malcolm to fetch her the tray with the brandy decanter and glass, which he brought to her in a thrice.

“What are those oral sounds I am now hearing?” Madame Girard asked a moment later.

“I’m sipping brandy,” Eloisa explained to her.

“At nine thirty in the morning?” Madame Girard interrogated suspiciously.

“Telephones always upset me so, Madame Girard, you know that, and when it’s a long phone conversation, often a finger of brandy gets me through.”

“I know nothing of your habits,” Madame Girard replied. “All I know is Malcolm is there, when he should be here, and I must come for him. I discovered him, and I claim him.”

“Madame Girard, listen to reason!”

“Why should you people who have no money or background be entrusted with him?” Madame Girard said. “Let those who can, take him.”

“But the portrait,” Eloisa cried. “You forget that I am doing his portrait—which you say you one day will purchase.”

“You can come to the Chateau and finish it,” Madame Girard told her.

“I cannot, and I will not, Madame Girard,” Eloisa stood firm.

“I am claiming my own is all,” Madame Girard said, more calm now. “I am simply asking you to hand over Malcolm. He’s no longer on his bench, and I have as good a claim as anyone. We want him to go to the country, and I need his special kind of companionship. Girard Girard, as you know, is no comfort to me any more. I need youth and freshness around me. I am imploring you, Eloisa.”

“Think of the brandy I am having to consume, Madame Girard, to sustain me in this telephone conversation,” Eloisa appealed.

“Eloisa, I will have Girard Girard send you a whole case up to you for your unpleasant task. What brand did you say you use?”

“Oh, please, you know we buy only a cheap domestic.”

“You shall be sent Napoleon today,” Madame Girard assured her.

“No favors, please,” Eloisa rejected her. “You know what Jerome thinks of favors. And Malcolm must absolutely stay until the portrait is done.”

“No, no, you shall come here to paint him. Meanwhile, I am getting ready to make my visit to you at once.”

“We will bar the door, Madame Girard. Your wealth and position cannot force open the entry to a private house.”

“You are rejecting my friendship and my generosity,” Madame Girard cried.

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