from my feelings of love and from my need to talk. And from what awaits me now, the scene I’m walking towards, and which will perhaps bear some resemblance to a conjugal scene.’
‘So what’s all the urgency?’ I said as soon as Díaz-Varela opened the door to me, I didn’t even kiss him on the cheek, I just said hello as I went in, tried to avoid looking him in the eye, even preferring not to touch him. If I began by demanding an explanation, I might take the lead, so to speak, gain a certain advantage in managing the situation, whatever the situation was: he had arranged it, almost insisted on it, so how could I know? ‘I haven’t got that much time, it’s been a really exhausting day. Anyway, what it is you want to discuss?’
He was perfectly shaved and immaculately dressed, and didn’t look at all as if he had been waiting at home for a long time, especially with no guarantee that his wait would not prove to be in vain – something which, without one realizing it, always has a deleterious effect on one’s appearance – but, rather, as if he were about to go out. He must have been struggling with all that uncertainty and inaction by shaving over and over, combing his hair and then ruffling it up again, changing his shirt and trousers several times, putting his jacket on, then taking it off again, weighing up how he looked either with or without it, in the end, he had left it on as a warning to me perhaps that this encounter was not going to be like the others, that we would not necessarily end up in the bedroom, a move that we always pretended was unintentional. Anyway, he was wearing one more item of clothing than usual, although it’s easy enough – even unnecessary – to remove anything. Now I did look up and meet his gaze, which was, as usual, dreamy and myopic, calmer than during my previous visit or, rather, during the final moments of that visit, when things took a strange turn, and he placed his hand on my shoulder and made me feel that he could destroy me simply by that slow, steady pressure. After all that time, he still seemed very attractive to me, because the more elemental part of me had missed him – we are capable of missing anything in our lives, even something that has not had time to take root, even something pernicious – and my gaze went immediately to the usual place, I couldn’t help it. When that happens with someone, it’s a real curse. Being incapable of looking away, you feel controlled, obedient, almost humiliated.
‘Don’t be in such a hurry. Rest for a moment, breathe, have a drink, take a seat. What I want to discuss can’t be dispatched in a couple of sentences and while standing up. Come on, be patient, be generous. Have a seat.’
I sat down on the sofa we usually occupied when we were in the living room. But I kept my jacket on and perched on the edge of the sofa, as if my presence there were nonetheless still provisional and a favour to him. He seemed calm and, at the same time, very focused, the way many actors are just before they go on stage, that is, they put on an artificial calm, which they need if they are not to run away and go back home and watch television. There appeared to be none of that morning’s imperiousness and urgency, when he had phoned me at work and almost ordered me to come. He must have felt pleased and relieved that I was now there within his grasp, because in a way I had placed myself in his hands again, and not just in the figurative sense. But now I was free of that kind of fear, I had realized that he would never harm me, not with his own hands, not alone. But with someone else’s hands and when he was not present, when the deed was done and there was no choice and he could say, like someone taken by surprise: ‘There would have been a time for such a word, she should have died hereafter’ – yes, that was possible.
He went into the kitchen to get me a drink and poured one for himself. There was no sign of any other glasses, perhaps he had not allowed himself a single