The Little Shadows - By Marina Endicott Page 0,155

and fumbled and worked fast.

‘What are you doing?’ he asked, walking over the polished floor towards her.

‘There is not much time, don’t waste it.’ Her blouse fell, the ribbon cummerbund fell, and she stepped out of her skirt, but there was still so much fabric to get through. She kicked at the pool of froth and linen on the floor, and said, ‘Please help me, please.’

He untied the waistband of her petticoat and knelt to draw it down, and buried his face in the smell and warmth of her, and she put her hands on his head. She hummed the tune as loudly as she could, and knelt beside him, and they sank together onto the pile of clothes and pillows—and really, Aurora thought, it was about time.

Turning her head away so as not to deafen him, she sang, ‘I never envied the rich millionaires, I never wanted to have what was theirs, I never bother about their affairs … All that I want is a chance to be glad, I’ve grown so tired of being so sad, There’s only one thing I wish that I had, That’s you, just you.’

As he pushed inside her, she had to stop singing or it would become an ululation.

Silent, then. Silence, silence, breathing carefully in and out, his arms under her hands and the fiery rage that he created spreading through her whole body, more than the blaze of the butterfly wings had been, spearing her or maybe going clear through her, their spirits dissolving into each other or knifing through and between, and there was no stopping it, their bodies in some trance of perfect time and beat, and beat, everything running between them like electricity, to shock them and to run the engines of them forward, until they died.

Very quietly, and very quickly.

She held him closer, closer, and then rolled him sideways and sprang up and dashed to the piano, playing the chorus through in a fine gallop, and then said loudly, ‘All right, one more time—I never envied the rich millionaires, I never wanted to have what was theirs, I never bother about their affairs—’ but when he reached for her she felt a warm liquidity run down the inside of her thigh, and she shuddered and laughed and shook her head, and step-stepped around the room (still in her shoes, they had not got so far as taking off her stockings), dancing as loud-clacking as might be while she grabbed one garment at a time and shrugged into it or under it, and he lay back on the cushions, laughing without the faintest sound.

‘Perhaps we need a gramophone,’ he said, when she was tight and tidy once more.

Four Months, Maybe Five

On Mondays, when the rest of the town was open for business, the vaudeville people took each other out for supper to Mariaggi’s or visited burlesque theatres, or danced at one of the big hotels. Jimmy and Aurora went dancing the Monday night before their premier at the Walker as the Double-Glide Duo. Aurora took Clover along for propriety; Bella had begged to come too, but Aurora had been hard as coal and would not let her. Mama told Bella she needed her to help with the finishing on the white dress, and that was the final word. Bella had thrashed off to the bedroom in a serious huff.

The Palm Lounge at the Fort Garry Hotel had a lovely little band, but it was not mere pleasure for Jimmy and Aurora to dance there: they were advertisements for themselves. Walker had taken a party there and all evening he directed their attention to Aurora and Jimmy.

Aurora was purely happy, spinning through the crystalled air, amid palm fronds and wineglasses and waiters and the polished parquet floor. The dance floor was sprung, with a horsehair cushion beneath it, so you could dance all night and never be tired. At the end of every dance, a scattering of applause broke out.

She was not tired these days, but full of vigour, with a little wellspring of pleasure—all the day brightened by the chance to dance with Jimmy. The sinews in his arm, masked by black broadcloth; everything about him so clean and fresh, the size of him just right and the steps that they knew well enough to ignore, to dream through the dances; even more, the perfect understanding that existed between them, and their alikeness.

It was too bad that Bella was angry, she would have to fix that. It was irritating;