The Betrayal

Time to leave your mother, dear.

You’re ready for a man.

HORACE

First I heard of it was overheard

when I came home unexpectedly early

from the baths ’cos it was overcrowded

and as usual they told me to come back later.

As I dawdled up our street, busy

with shoppers – tired of having to say Salve!

and Bene, gratias at every step to neighbours

who didn’t give a toss about how I felt,

wondering if Alba could come out to play,

glad that spring was here after a long winter

when I’d had to wrap my feet in rags

or else they’d fall off –

I saw a fancy sedan parked up outside

our shop and four bronzed sedan-bearers

wearing white linen skirts with gold stripes,

leaning against the wall, waiting.

I ran the rest of the way, found the shop closed.

I heard voices, put my ear to the door.

‘Sì, Mr Felix. Zuleika very obediens girl, sir.

No problemata, she make very optima wife, sir.’

‘Glad to hear it, for when I saw her at the baths,

she stole my heart. Indeed,

she is so … exquisita, so … pulcherrima,

such a delicious surprise in this, shall we say,

less than dazzling little colonia.

She reminds me of the girls back in Ægyptus,

where I spent most of my teenage years,

my father was governor there, you know,

I liked the mysterious, dark ones

from the south, who would oil my limbs,

waft soundlessly around me leaving

the lingering scent of musky sandalwood

from Zanzibar in their wake.

I have been looking for a wife for some time,

and naturaliter, I wanted someone young,

someone specialis, a rare flower.’

‘Sì, Mr Felix. Zuleika very specialis girl.

Yes, always at home, quietly sewing,

very placid, no back-chat.’

‘Good. I have enjoyed bachelorhood

to its utmost, Anlamani, but the fiend loneliness

has become a most unwelcome friend.

I intend to make this my far-western base

and I need to warm my home with a wife.

I am a man of multiple interests: a senator,

military man, businessman, I undertake

trading missions for the government,

and I’m a landowner,

I’ve just bought Hertfordshire, you know.

Yet I have never been interested

in the plethora of simpering debutantes

who are paraded in the cattle-market balls

every season, mothers thrusting their powdered

wrinkled cleavages at me, supposedly

on behalf of their darling twittering daughters.

My own dear mater died young, you know,

she was so very benevola, I missed

her terribly when I was a boy. I still do.

Perhaps that is why it has taken me so long

to tie the knot, so to speak.

To form an attachment is to risk its loss,

is it not? I have been looking for a nice,

simplex, quiet, fidelis girl, a girl

who will not betray me with affairs,

who will not wear me out with horrid fights,

unlike my pater’s subsequent three wives,

who made my life hell, and his,

who were of the hedonistic breed

of aristocratic matronae, determined to compete

with the husband in all spheres,

ever boastful of their sexual shenanigans,

humiliating the dear gentle man in public

and prepared to argue until dawn on matters

of politics, world affairs and the arts.

Have you heard that women now dress up

in male attire and compete in chariot races?

It has got quite out of hand in the fatherland.

Nor do I want one with cumbersome baggage.

Is my load not heavy enough?

I will of course see to an educatio for her,

and lessons in elegantia, she is of the age

where she will learn quickly.

Do not worry about her dowry, it is of no

consequentia to me, of course

you will benefit greatly from this negotium.

I think we can safely say that your business

is due to expand considerably.’

‘You are very benignus gentleman, sir.

Road has been uphill, almost vertical, for years.

A boost to oeconomia most welcome, sir.’

‘Say no more. You have my patronage.’

I looked through a large crack in the door

(there were many) and saw an old man,

much taller than my small father,

who was so thin, that day his stoop resembling

a frozen bow. The man was much fatter

than Pops too, he was in a word: obesus.

His smooth olive-skinned face wore

the haughty expression of a true patrician,

his thinning brown hair was cut

in the fashionable pudding-bowl haircut,

his orange-and-white-striped toga

was of sumptuous linen that fell in elegant folds,

he wore several gold rings with bright stones

and when my eyes moved slowly down

I saw his legs: thin, hairy and bandy.

At which point my own took me rapidly

down the street, not even stopping at Alba’s,

no words could form yet.

I ran until I reached the sloping banks

of the River Fleet, far away from the docks,

and then I screamed at the water

until my throat was sore and my spittle

had dried up, not caring

that all the fishermen thereabouts

stopped mending their nets and stared.

I stayed for hours and when it was dark,

the beach deserted, I stripped off, threw

my tatty green dress on to pebbles,

walked into the cold water and swam far out,

shivering. It was what I needed,

to calm me down. I had done it before.

When I turned round, the city was lit up

with lamps, and torches flickered in windows

and doorways of houses on the hills.

1 knew I had to accept my fate. I could throw

countless tantrums, I was an expert,

but it would go ahead, regardless.

The man’s voice carried such utter imperium,

and he expressed such an awful desire for me.

I swam towards the lights, forcing myself

to conquer the cold water,

before my body seized up with cramp.

And what about Mater dearest?

Dad would have sent her on an errand.

I thought of how she spat out words

like the gristle of fetid beef, hating

her adopted language, even now:

Zuks! Fetch Khu-kh-umba! Cabb-age!

Hasp-ara-gush!

She’d wave an arm at Dad,

her underarm loose like soggy papyrus.

More! More! – finger and thumb rubbing

together in a greedy money-making gesture.

Nubia good! He’d turn away, serve

another customer, joke with them,

while she scowled, pulled her voluminous

black robes over her head, slumped

into a corner, still as a sack of potatoes.

As a kid, I’d crawl into her covers,

make my breath hers.

A sweet tooth had taken the rest away,

her cheeks were dried out and grooved,

she had given birth when most wombs

nourished ghosts, walked with stillborns

riding her back. She dragged me down streets,

I flew like her robes in fierce wind.

Darling Catullus came three years later,

a miracle on account of his sperm bag.

I hadn’t been left to die outside the city walls

exactly, but, aged three, I knew who

would inherit the key to the Kingdom of Pops.

I have suffer so too you will have suffer.

Her eyes were nigrosine, whites browned,

liquefying only when she rocked Catullus

to sleep with softly sung Nubian ditties –

cross-legged on the mat which served

as couch and mattress behind the counter

of our first vegetable shop in Milk Street.

Ulcers sprouted in my mouth, sleepless,

Dad lanced them, I bit my tongue

so’s not to awaken the Baby Jesus,

was desperate to run into the night for ever,

to find the river and disappear in it,

I was swimming in the dead of it,

my frozen limbs struggled up the beach,

my dress instantly soaked. I ran back

through the deserted streets,

feeling my blood warm up, my joints

becoming fluid again, the only sound

was of my sandalled feet on hardened earth,

my harsh panting breaths. I called for Alba,

she heard from the back where they slept,

but she came quickly to the door,

took one look at me, ran back inside, returned

to wrap me up in her grey blanket

that scratched my wet skin like thistles.

She made me sit down, just the two of us,

few dared walk around after dark.

She rubbed my back. ‘Zeeks. Wassup?’