Уильям Николсон - Motherland

‘I can understand that,’ says Nell.

‘It’s theatre,’ says Peter Prout. ‘The Catholic Church is all about theatre.’

‘But where’s the intellectual honesty?’ says Leonard.

‘Who needs intellectual honesty?’ says Nell. ‘Who needs intellectual anything? That’s just another way for people to bully people. Larry grew up believing in a religion that really matters to him, and it’s got power and beauty and so on to him, so why not let him get on with it?’

‘But Nell,’ says Armitage, ‘we’re not talking about art, or poetry. We’re talking about so-called eternal truths.’

‘It is art and poetry for me,’ says Larry. ‘It’s just like that. Once you decide your brain is too small to know everything, you look at things differently. You say, all right, I might as well stick with my traditions until I run into a good reason not to. I’m not saying the Catholic Church has the only truth. It’s just the faith I’ve grown up with. So for me, it’s faith itself. It’s the part of me that believes there’s more than this life, and that goodness wins in the end, and that there’s a purpose to existence. I expect if I’d been born in Cairo I’d get all that from being a Muslim, but I wasn’t. I was taken to the Carmelite church in Kensington every Sunday, and I was sent to a school run by Benedictine monks, and so it’s all just part of who I am.’

‘You’re allowed to grow up,’ says Leonard. ‘You’re not obliged to stay a child for ever. You can break out on your own.’

‘What did you grow up believing, Leonard?’ says Nell.

‘My parents have always been free-thinkers,’ says Leonard. ‘I’ve been allowed to grow up in my own way.’

‘Do they believe in God?’

‘Not at all.’

‘So you’ve been raised by atheists,’ says Nell, ‘and you’re an atheist. When do you break out on your own?’

The others laugh at that. Larry grins and holds out his hand. Nell shakes it.

Nell walks down Camberwell Grove with Larry later that afternoon, heading for the room Larry rents in McNeil Road.

‘I love it that you’re a Catholic,’ she says. ‘It’s just so wacky and different. I’ve never known anyone who’s a Catholic.’

‘What are your family, then?’

‘Oh, nothing, of course. You know, Anglican. They never talk about religion. I think it’s supposed to be bad manners, like talking about sex.’

‘God and sex. Big secrets. Not in front of the children.’

‘What I like about you, Lawrence,’ she goes on, ‘is the way you’re not afraid to be who you are. Actually I’m quite impressed that you know who you are at all. I’ve no idea who I am.’

‘Well, I am older than you.’

‘Yes, I like that too.’

When they get to the door of his digs she says, ‘Are you going to ask me in?’

‘Would you like to come in, Nell?’

‘Yes, thank you, Lawrence. I would.’

His room has a bed, a table, a small high-backed armchair, and a washbasin. A gas fire has been crammed into the small fireplace. Larry lights the gas. Nell sits on the bed, crossing her legs.

‘It’s funny to think,’ Nell says, ‘that I was sitting naked in front of you and you were staring at me, and there were all the others there too, and now we’re alone and I’m all dressed, and you can’t even look at me.’

‘Yes, it is funny,’ says Larry.

‘Is it because you’d rather I wasn’t here?’

‘No. No, not at all.’

‘Do you think it’s wrong for me to be a life model?’

‘Of course I don’t.’

‘But you must think it’s a bit strange. I mean, most people are shy about taking their clothes off.’

‘Well, I’m glad you’re not.’

‘I am shy, really. But I make myself do it. I’m determined to get away.’

He understands what she means. This is her equivalent of his impulse to paint.

‘You know we agreed we should always tell each other what we want?’ says Nell.

‘Yes.’

‘I want to kiss you.’

‘Oh,’ says Larry, taken by surprise.

‘Do you want to kiss me?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then come over here. That way we’ll warm up quicker, too.’

Larry goes to sit beside her on the bed. She reaches up to cup one hand round his head.

‘Do you think it’s wrong for me to be so forward?’

‘No,’ he says.

He leans close and they kiss. Then she lies down full length on the bed and he lies down with her and they kiss holding each other in their arms. He feels her slight body warm against his, and her lips soft and secret on his, and he’s overwhelmed by the sweet rush of desire.

She feels him growing hard against her.

‘What’s this?’ she says.

‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘Nothing I can do about it.’

‘Of course there is,’ she says.

She slips her hand down between them and strokes the ridge in his trousers.

‘Does the Catholic Church say it’s wrong for me to do this?’ she says.

‘No,’ he whispers.

She feels for the buckle of his belt and undoes it. Then she unbuttons his flies. He lies still, grateful and amazed. She pushes her hands inside his pants and touches his cock, gently stroking it.

‘How about this?’ she says. ‘Is this a sin?’

‘No,’ he whispers.

‘Do you think maybe we should draw the curtains?’

‘Yes,’ he says.

He gets up off the bed and his trousers fall down. He stoops and pulls them up, but Nell says, ‘Take them off, silly.’ He goes to the window and pulls the thin curtains closed. Now the room is filled with a green shade, in the midst of which the gas fire glows orange.

Nell is sitting up on his bed pulling her dress over her head. Larry stands there in shirt and underpants and socks, shaking with confused excitement. Beneath the dress she wears a brassiere and knickers. She tosses the dress to the floor and unhooks the brassiere.

‘It’s not as if you haven’t seen it all before,’ she says.

Larry takes off his shirt and socks, but not his pants. His erection pushes out all too visibly. Nell poses for him on the bed, as she did in the life class.

‘Remember?’

‘Yes,’ he says. ‘Yes.’

‘Come here, then.’

He goes into her arms, and holds her naked body close.

‘My God, Nell,’ he whispers. ‘My God, you’re lovely.’

‘Have we started doing anything wrong yet?’

‘No, not yet. But we’re very close.’

‘I want to do something wrong with you, Lawrence. I want you to want to do it with me.’

‘I do. I do.’

Her hand is back feeling his cock, stroking it, making the desire in him go crazy. Then she takes his hand and puts it between her legs.

‘Feel me there, Lawrence. I want you there.’

He feels the tickly mound of pubic hair, and the yielding softness below. She moves her hips, pushing her crotch against his hand.

‘All yours,’ she says.

‘Oh, God, Nell,’ he says, feeling his blood race. The wonder of her touch wipes his mind clean of all other thoughts. He knows only that he is entirely possessed by his desire, and that she is wonderfully, generously, inexplicably granting it.

‘God, you’re beautiful,’ he says.

She rubs her body against his, exciting him to near-frenzy.

‘Are we going to do it, Lawrence?’ she says. ‘Are we?’

‘I’m not prepared,’ he says. ‘I haven’t got—’

‘Don’t worry about that,’ she says. ‘I’ve dealt with that.’

She has his cock in her hand now, and she’s rubbing the tip against her slit. Larry feels tremors of dangerous delight run down his cock.

‘So are we going to do it, Lawrence?’

‘Yes,’ he whispers. ‘Yes.’

‘Doesn’t the Catholic Church say it’s wrong?’