Love Your Enemies (4 page)

He smiled. ‘What into? A well trained corgi?’

She frowned. ‘Don’t avoid the inevitable, Jason, she feels pretty wet to me.’

He sighed and took hold of Charlie’s tiny body, then carried her into the sitting room. Sammy Jo opened a tin of tomatoes while he lay the baby down on her changing mat and searched around for one of the remaining disposable nappies. He said loudly, so Sammy Jo could hear him above the noise of the frying pan, ‘How’s your mother? You didn’t chat for long.’

Sammy Jo added the tomatoes to the rest of the vegetables in the pan, then remembered she had forgotten to start with a chopped onion. She cursed under her breath, then said
hastily, ‘She’s fine. She’s a bit busy actually. I think she had plans to go out tonight.’ Jason took off Charlie’s dirty nappy and said, ‘I’m so glad I don’t have any washing to do this evening. I’m knackered. There again, it still makes my skin crawl to imagine what I’m doing to the environment with just one day’s usage of these things.’

He turned Charlie over and cleaned her bottom with some tissues. Sammy Jo cleared her throat and appeared in the doorway. ‘Did you get that paper for me, Jason?’

He nodded. ‘Yeah. It’s in my case, by the door.’

He lay one of the nappies out on the table and lifted up Charlie’s legs so as to slide it under her bottom. As he performed this manoeuvre he stuck out one of his elbows and accidentally knocked the telephone with it. The telephone was balanced on the edge of the table and threatened to fall off. Quickly grabbing hold of it and pushing it a couple of inches away from the edge, he focused on the pad covered in small, neat print. He took hold of it with his free hand and perused it, initially with uninterest and then with some surprise. On the pad Sammy Jo had written: ‘
ARE GOOD AND EVIL OF IMPORTANCE TO THE UNIVERSE OR JUST TO MAN?’ BERTRAND RUSSELL. THINK ABOUT THIS.
He moved the pad closer to his face in order to reread these words. He frowned, put the pad down again and completed Charlie’s nappy.

Sammy Jo strolled into the room clutching her new pad as Jason finished putting on Charlie’s rubber knickers. She walked over and switched on the television, saying, ‘Dinner shouldn’t be long now. Pass her over, will you? I need to feed her.’

He picked up Charlie.

‘Sammy Jo?’

‘Yep?’

‘This may sound rather stupid, but I couldn’t help noticing what you have written down on the pad by the phone.’

She looked up guiltily and played for time. ‘I can’t remember
writing anything. It can’t have been important …’ She put out her arms for Charlie. ‘Pass her over please.’

He handed the baby over and watched dispassionately as Sammy Jo began breast-feeding. He said, ‘Have you been watching the Open University while I’m out at work?’

Sammy Jo shrugged. ‘I might have caught a programme at some point, Jason. I can’t really remember. I don’t just sit around all day watching television, you know. Looking after a young baby isn’t just fun and games.’

He shook his head, bewildered. ‘I wasn’t suggesting that, Sammy Jo, not at all. Anyway, you wanted the baby, it was a decision you made freely, you were hardly under any pressure.’

Sammy Jo frowned. ‘Freedom’s not really like that, Jason. I’ve been giving it some thought lately. The way I see it, freedom is like a train journey. When you get on the train, everyone assures you that you are free to climb off whenever you choose, but as with all train journeys there doesn’t seem much point getting off at most of the stations. They just aren’t appropriate to your life. A lot of things dictate as to when and where you get off the train. It isn’t just a random decision. The past propels you forward, and all your future decisions have already been made well in advance, dictated by age, class, sex … anyway, your capacity is limited. Your choice is limited.’

Charlie sucked away at one of Sammy Jo’s robust pink nipples with energetic commitment. Jason tried to expel the random thought that had just entered his head, that often entered his head when he saw Sammy Jo breast-feeding, which was that she seemed like the Madonna when she performed this duty, like an icon, so innocent, uninvolved and natural. He said, ‘How long have you had this hang-up about not being free? I thought you were happy to be living with me. I thought you liked being married. I don’t think I ever put you under any unnecessary pressure …’

Sammy Jo exploded. ‘Why does everything have to be so bloody particular with you, Jason? I’m not talking about myself, I’m talking about an idea, a …’

She paused and grasped for a word that was brand new and floating around inside her mind, ready to be brought out like the best cutlery at a family celebration. ‘I’m talking about universals. A universal idea, freedom. Everything that I say doesn’t have to apply to my own miserable life. I can think beyond it, above it, you know. I am just about capable of that.’

He stared at her with his shoulders hunched and his arms crossed defensively, then he said, ‘Something’s going on, but I don’t know what. This isn’t like you … this isn’t you, Sammy Jo.’

She laughed, ‘God! Just because I make a slightly intelligent observation you make out something terrible is wrong. You don’t think I’m a very clever person, do you, Jason? You don’t think I’m particularly blessed with intelligence.’

He looked surprised. ‘Of course you’re intelligent. I love you, Sammy Jo, I love your mind, your conversation, your body, your beautiful pink nipples, our baby. I do respect you, and I like to think that I treat you as an equal …’

She snorted. ‘Well thanks a lot for that. I
am
your equal, I don’t think you deserve any special thanks for treating me as such.’

Jason leaned over the table and picked up the pizza pad. ‘What exactly does this mean, Sammy Jo? “
ARE GOOD AND EVIL OF IMPORTANCE TO THE UNIVERSE OR ONLY TO MAN? BERTRAND RUSSELL. THINK ABOUT THIS.”
What does it mean? Why have you written it down? Who told you to write it down?’ He ripped the page away from the pad and screwed it up in his hand.

Sammy Jo prised Charlie’s gums away from her nipple and pulled her shirt together to cover her breasts. Charlie yelled and then started to cry. Sammy Jo stood up, thrust Charlie into Jason’s arms and said, ‘You bloody feed her. How dare
you screw up my notes like that? It’s none of your business what I do. I’m not affecting you in any way.’ She picked up the ball of crumpled paper from the floor and held it, clenched possessively in her hand. Jason was bouncing Charlie up and down in his arms, trying to calm her down. He stared at Sammy Jo but didn’t say anything. After a minute or so Charlie’s crying evaporated into breathy whimpers. Jason took her over to her cot and placed her gently into it. Sammy Jo felt like running upstairs to their bedroom in order to curtail this conversation, but she wanted to carry on reading her book, she didn’t want to just sit up there sulking, with nothing to do. Jason stood up straight and turned to face Sammy Jo. He crossed his arms. ‘This reminds me of something, Sammy Jo. This situation reminds me of something.’

She frowned. ‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?’

He shrugged. ‘Just a hunch. What would you say if I told you that I was going to telephone Lucy Cosbie right now? Maybe she could shed some light on this thing? You’ve been strange since she telephoned you the other day.’

Sammy Jo shook her head. ‘You’re barking up the wrong tree, Jason. Lucy Cosbie has nothing whatever to do with this.’

Jason walked over to the television and switched it off then sat down on the sofa where Sammy Jo had been sitting before. He looked up at her, ‘Can’t we talk about this sensibly, Sammy Jo? It’s no big deal. We don’t have to row about it.’

Sammy Jo leaned against the table and looked petulant. ‘You said it, Jason. I don’t know what your problem is all of a sudden.’

He patted the seat next to him on the sofa. ‘Sammy Jo, something is upsetting you or influencing you. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but you’ve said some strange things lately, you seem distant and preoccupied, like something’s upsetting you.’

She looked into his face as he spoke and saw that his brown eyes were weary and that his face was drawn. As she looked
at him she felt as though she hadn’t seen him properly for a long time. She moved and sat down beside him. After a short silence she said, ‘I don’t want you to get upset, I want you to understand. I don’t want any overreactions, all right?’

He stared at her, frowning. She continued. ‘Someone’s been telephoning me over the past few days …’

Jason inhaled deeply. She saw his hands clench into fists.

‘Jason, don’t get upset. This man isn’t like the other one, he’s different. He doesn’t want to cause trouble, he isn’t rude or anything … it isn’t like that at all.’

Jason spoke, and his voice was low and quiet, ‘He telephoned earlier, right? That wasn’t your mother at all, was it? You lied to me, Sammy Jo.’

Sammy Jo shook her head. ‘It’s not like that. I didn’t want to upset you. I knew you’d overreact, I knew you’d blow it out of all proportion. It isn’t like how it was before, not at all.’

He stared at her. His face seemed very close and long and mean. ‘Well how exactly is it now, Sammy Jo? How is it possible for an anonymous caller to be anything other than offensive?’

She shrugged and fiddled momentarily with one of the buttons on her blouse. ‘He’s teaching me about philosophy. That’s all he talks about. Before he phoned I didn’t even know what philosophy was, but now he’s taught me about Descartes and Sartre and scepticism. I’m reading
The Age of Reason
at the moment and really enjoying it …’

Jason sprang up from the sofa and looked down at Sammy Jo from what seemed like a great height.

‘How long has this been going on, Sammy Jo? Does Cosbie know about it?’

Sammy Jo looked vulnerable and upset. ‘It has nothing at all to do with her, it has nothing to do with you either Jason. It’s between him and me. I quite like his calls. They interest me.’

Jason let out a sharp yell of frustration and raised his eyes
and hands towards the ceiling as though pleading with an invisible God. ‘Sammy Jo don’t you understand anything? Don’t you see what’s happening here? Don’t you understand that it doesn’t matter what the hell it is that he says to you on the phone, it doesn’t matter whether he’s swearing at you are singing Gregorian chants, the issue here is power. Power, do you remember? Can’t you remember the endless conversations with Lucy and I about why it is that people telephone other people anonymously and abuse their time and their privacy? It’s a power thing. He’s making you passive. You don’t question him, he is in control, he is powerful and you are passive. He probably gets exactly the same kick out of it as if you were involved in some sort of direct, sick, sado-masochistic relationship. He’s dictating your life, Sammy Jo, can’t you see that? Can’t you?’

As he finished speaking he leaned towards her and snatched hold of her arm. She didn’t meet his gaze, her arm hung limp in his hand. After several seconds she said quietly, ‘You think I don’t know all this, don’t you? You think I’m so bloody stupid. Well you’re wrong. I know all about this shit. Maybe you think that I actually enjoy being dominated, that I actually go out of my way to get into situations where I can be dominated …’

Jason dropped her arm, ‘What do you expect me to think, Sammy Jo? Do you expect me to congratulate you on getting an education? Do you expect me to go to night classes to learn French so I can discuss Sartre with you in the original? What the hell do you expect me to feel? Pleased? Delighted? Grateful?’

Sammy Jo sprang up and pushed Jason in the chest with her flat hand. ‘Don’t you dare patronize me, you bastard. How dare you speak to me like this? I’ll do what the hell I like with my time and you can’t stop me. You just resent him because he is offering me something that you have never bothered offering me.’

Jason laughed. It sounded like the wail of an angry hyena.
‘So you think. I’m threatened by this pervert do you? You think I’m intimidated by some sick bastard who gets his kicks out of telephoning vulnerable women and talking about philosophy with them? Look at me, Sammy Jo, I’m not threatened, I’m angry. You should be angry too.’

Sammy Jo pushed past him and marched over to the cot. She lifted Charlie up with one hand and reached under the mattress with her other hand. She grabbed hold of her three new books and then replaced the baby on top of her blankets. Jason watched all of this in silence and then said harshly, ‘Well, that’s very mature, Sammy Jo, hiding books under the baby’s mattress, very adult. You thrive on this sort of deception, don’t you? You love your little secrets, your private collusions.’

Sammy Jo marched past him and towards the door. ‘I’m going upstairs for a while. I don’t want to be disturbed.’

Jason slammed his fist down hard on to the table, the force of which caused a coffee cup, the telephone and pizza pad to jump up into the air by almost an inch. The telephone made a little jangling, ringing noise as it landed. He yelled, ‘Give me those books Sammy Jo, give them to me now!’

She held her books against her chest and glared at him venomously. ‘You’ll have to kill me first, Jason. Be warned, I’m not quite as passive as you’d like to believe.’

They stared at each other venomously for several seconds and then Sammy Jo turned and left the room.

In the kitchen the ratatouille was starting to burn. Jason switched off the oven and started to prepare a bottle for the baby. His hands were shaking.

After forty-five minutes Jason had fed the baby and watched half of
Coronation Street
. He kept listening out for any noises from upstairs, but the house was silent. He switched the television off, opened his briefcase and took out his address book. He found Lucy Cosbie’s number and dialled it. It rang several times before she answered it.

‘Hi, Lucy here.’

Her voice was depressingly familiar to him. He said, ‘Hello, Lucy, it’s Jason Wells here, Sammy Jo’s husband.’

This took Lucy Cosbie several seconds to register, then she responded warmly: ‘Oh, Jason, hi. Is something wrong? You’re the last person I expected to hear from.’