The Spider's Web Part 9

   Vincent, who had never heard such a story from his father, was looking at Mrs. Martin with eagerness and astonishment.
   “When I finally decided to go home, it was two o'clock in the morning. I was very nervous and could not think of any story or excuse with which to placate my husband. I prayed my husband would be asleep, so that I could enter silently. To my disappointment, my husband was awake and waiting for me in the living room. When I saw his face, I was scared that this time it would be the end of my act and of my life. I felt sorry for him. He did not deserve to have such a treatment from me. After all, I was his wife. And he had always been very good to me at all times. It was my fault. I was too good to people and hated disappointing anyone. Now I saw my life ending in disgrace, tragedy and scandal.”
   Vincent was listening avidly to the story and tried to put himself in her husband's place. He could imagine what happened and he did not want to hear the end of the story, figuring that it must have ended in tragedy. He interrupted Mrs. Martin with:
   “Did you love your husband?”
   Mrs. Martin, who wanted to finish her narrative, did not answer Vincent, and continued:
   “I knew that that was the end; I steeled myself, smiled at my husband and took off my coat, when suddenly the terrifying voice of my husband shook my entire being: ‘Where were you, for God's sake?’ 
    I thought that my husband had figured out everything and now any more lies would only provoke him further. I decided to tell him the truth and replied, ‘I was with my lover.' He looked at me. Then he smiled like he preferred not to hear the truth. He hugged me and kissed me and took me to bed. That night I was really tired and racked with emotion. To have two men in the same night was too much!”
   Vincent interrupted her with:
   “That's it! He did not question you anymore?”
   “No,” replied Mrs. Martin. “He apologized for having raised his voice. Men do not like to hear the truth, especially when you serve the truth directly and without embellishment. They prefer not to accept the truth rather than to face a hard choice.” 
   Vincent, feeling that he had to make an intelligent statement, undercut her with:
   “It is not always pleasant to hear the truth, which could change our lives entirely. We prefer to live with our lies and our act rather than face reality. As I understand, madam, your husband preferred to believe that it was a joke.”
   “Yes, young man, you understand why it is terrible to betray a husband. Because in the name of peace and the children, my life became even more complicated, as I had to live with a third man, but this one I really loved.”
    “What about your husband and Pierre?” interrupted Vincent. 
    “I did not love either of them, but I had to preserve my family, especially my daughter, so I sacrificed my life for her. Do you know what it is to live for fifteen years with three men?”
   Vincent was so taken aback with the life story of this old lady that he felt like a little boy who does not know his way to school. He was a little afraid; his dreams and hopes were shaken by this interesting and sad story of this lady, who did not seem to be unhappy on one hand, but seemed to be sorry for herself on the other. Vincent was very keen to the end of the story. He was interrupted by the train coming to a halt at a station. More passengers boarded their compartment. The old lady realized that she couldn't satisfy Vincent with the continuation of her life story. She bent discreetly and whispered in his ear, so no one could overhear it:
   “My son, my life is too long. My name is Mrs. Martin.” And so ended the story of Mrs. Martin, which left  an indelible impression on Vincent's mind. Now Vincent remembered the story of Mrs. Martin, which made him forget the story of Josephine. But the senior de Montaigne never knew Mrs. Martin's story which for Vincent was more dramatic than his father's story. Somehow, Josephine’s story and Mrs. Martin's story became confused in his mind and became like one story.
   All of Mrs. Martin's life story passed through his mind as he watched Josephine. She did not know what was going on in his mind and looked at him and said:
   “Vincent, do you love me?” Vincent who had begun to feel strongly about Josephine was perplexed. He did not want to answer her question, as he was not ready to divulge his feelings. He dreamed about an ideal marriage with love, devotion and loyalty. But Vincent did not even ask Josephine such a question. He did not want to get an answer which might change his entire life before being sure that he had chosen the right woman. He knew that he loved Josephine, but he was still under the influence of Josephine's and Mrs. Martin's stories. He was hesitant. He did not want to compromise anyone. He preferred to wait as Mrs. Martin had suggested for herself, until he found his life's companion. On the other hand, Vincent did not want to lose Josephine, as she could very well be the person he was looking for.
   Josephine, seeing that Vincent was not reacting to her questions and her love, hugged him suddenly and kissed him on the lips. Vincent became even more confused. He felt that he loved her, but he would never have taken the initiative to kiss Josephine. Now a romance started between them, despite Vincent's resistance and hesitation. Josephine was too young to be married, even if Vincent had so wanted. He did not want to be like Mrs. Martin’s husband. He would rather take the risk of continuing to seem impassive and to wait and see. The ship had yet another week to go until they reached India.
   Meanwhile, the senior de Montaigne had had a long discussion with his new friend Mr. Moreland. They came over to the young couple to announce that it was time for dinner. Vincent was happy to be interrupted as he wanted to change the subject with Josephine and the arrival of his father was a welcome excuse to interrupt his confusion and put a stop to this new situation.
   When all four friends were in the dining room, Josephine tried to get Vincent out of his silence. She was different this time. Vincent was plunged in another story. Josephine's kiss was not his first kiss which he had not initiated.  When he was the captain's guest in London, he had had a similar experience. The captain had been waiting for him at the station on the first day.  He greeted him with a big hello. Then both took a coach home.
   When Vincent arrived at his host's home, he was received by a charming lady. This was Olivia Green, the captain's wife. Vincent was very shy. He hastened to give her the present that his father had bought for her. Mr. Green, who had to go somewhere, left Vincent with Olivia, and said to her:    
   “Olivia, take care of our young friend. Show him our English hospitality.”
   Olivia waved to her husband and closed the door. In an effort to make Vincent, who was laboring under so many different impressions, feel at home, Olivia took his hand to show him around the house. The soft touch of Olivia's hand sent a current vibrating through his entire body. Olivia, without a second thought, kissed him on the mouth. Vincent did not offer any resistance. By now, Vincent felt as if he was in a dream. This was his first physical contact with a woman. After that incident, Olivia did not leave him in peace. She cherished him like a son and a lover at the same time. When Mr. Green, the captain, returned home in the evening, Vincent was very embarrassed.  Every time the captain looked at Vincent, he had the impression that the captain must have guessed something. But Mr. Green had not an inkling of what was going  through Vincent's mind. His wife loved him so much, he had no reason to doubt her fidelity, and Vincent was still young. As she served dinner, Olivia kept teasing Vincent, who did not know where to hide himself. The stories of Vincent's father, Mrs. Martin and Olivia were juxtaposed in Vincent's mind. Josephine, believing that Vincent was really in love with her, kept up a lively flow of conversation so as not to attract the attention of the older gentlemen, who were enjoying the meal and their own discussion.
   The thought of marriage was far from Vincent’s mind, especially after all the painful experiences that his dad and he had had. To him, a woman was a creature that he would love to love but not with whom he could build a family. Vincent wondered if there was any normal family in the world. Now his sole dream was directed to India, where he might discover another truth.
   Throughout the rest of the voyage, he tried to avoid Josephine's advances, without appearing impolite or brutal. He had always tried to be dignified and reserved. Vincent's attitude attracted Josephine even more. She dreamed about his allure. Vincent had replaced her father as Josephine's primary concern. Vincent's father had not noticed anything special in Vincent's demeanor though the entire trip.
   Early one morning, in the misty light of dawn, the western coastline was sighted. The vessel gradually slowed its speed as the Indian shoreline drew nearer. Vincent's delight knew no bounds. With his natural inquisitiveness, he had discovered that this ship was about to dock at Ballard Pier, one of the numerous docks at the Bombay (today: Mumbay) harbor.  To his left, he would see a magnificent arch, the Gateway of India, built by the British to honor Queen Victoria.
   The ship laboriously maneuvered its way between other ships anchored in the Bombay harbor, along the wooden pier. Some vessels were still loading bulks of tea. Others were unloading various types of merchandise coming to India from England or the Netherlands. Flags of innumerable nations fluttered on the masts of the various ships. The vessels reverberated with the loud multilingual voices of sailors from every corner of the globe. For the first time, Vincent saw the dark-skinned Indians, heads wrapped in colorful turbans, busy at work on the pier.  Short, stocky coolies, clad in the blue uniforms of the docks, unloaded heavy bales of merchandise with practiced ease. Interspersed with the natives were the English policemen and soldiers, checking all kinds of official papers. Vincent was amazed to see the milling crowds. He had seen so many people at one time in his life. One could get lost among so many people, he murmured to himself. He could never have guessed how different this country was from any he had seen on the European continent. He realized for the first time that despite the numerous languages and dialects, English was the official language and he was glad he knew English from before.
   The vessel took almost half a day to come to a standstill. It was almost noon. Vincent, eager not to miss a thing, had even neglected to eat breakfast. Now, a few Englishmen in uniform came on board. Vincent could not distinguish between the soldiers and the policemen as they were all dressed in short-sleeved shirts and shorts, with the round hats, or topi, as they were called. The senior de Montaigne was busy with the luggage. Too late, Vincent realized that he should  have helped his father. But this new world was so full of distractions. When he finally reached his father, the trunks  had already been dispatched. Vincent remembered that he had broken a promise to himself to take care of his father, and here he was absorbed by the spectacle like a child.
   He could see Josephine and her father, at a distance, on deck, but chose to stay with his father. His heart quickened at the thought of seeing Josephine before they disembarked as he had not even asked her for her address. He realized that he had missed something, but his mind was confused. Suddenly, he felt a touch on his shoulder. It was Josehine, who came to bid adieu. He looked at her, tongue-tied but with so much to say. He wished he had had another day with her just to feel her presence. Now, everything seemed lost.
   With much hesitation, he gathered courage and said:
   “Josephine, you never told me where I could reach you.” Josephine, pretty in her summer hat, smiled and announced complacently:
   “Your father knows where to reach us.” When Vincent heard that his father knew Josephine's address, he was embarrassed, as he realized that he should have thought about it earlier, himself. He smiled to cover his thoughts and said:
   “Very well. I shall see you later.” Josephine joined her father, who was waiting for her.  Vincent became impatient, going through the check-point, with all the time-consuming procedure of customs. The senior de Montaigne, realizing that Vincent must be tired and hungry, as he had not had breakfast, decided he should do something about it. He exchanged a few words with an Indian policeman, and suddenly they were hurried through.
   Europe now seemed so far that Vincent doubted if he would ever want to return. The long voyage had been pleasant but exhausting. Now, as he stood on the pier, he felt the ground heave under him. The continuous clamoring of a dozen different tongues, the bustling passengers and the continuous motion of the ship had weakened Vincent. He started to dream about a bed, just for a bit of rest. Everything he was seeing merged in a whirl of black. He wondered why he had not anticipated such a difference of life. Meanwhile, his dad, struggling to get his belongings safely out of the pier, waved to him to indicate that all was well.
   When Vincent and his father finally emerged outside, Mr. Mershenson was waiting for them. Vincent did not recognize him at first, but when his father hugged him, he realized it was their old friend from Paris. Vincent, who had begun to feel lost and low-spirited, suddenly regained a feeling of security.  Mr. Mershenson who had become a very rich and respected man, had arranged for his large and well-appointed carriage to pick them up at the exit from the pier.
   Vincent could not think anymore about all the dreams he had regarding India. The only thing he wanted was to get out of this densely populated city, where he could not walk a step without rubbing shoulders with someone; which had no similarity to Paris or London. Vincent had given up trying to watch anything. He was entirely disinterested. Out, was his sole thought. 
   Vincent had a strange feeling of displacement in this new world. He remembered having the same feeling when he arrived in Paris for the first time. The kind Mr. Mershenson had not recognized Vincent either. Vincent now looked like a man except that his feelings were still like those of a child's. He was so sensitive to everything.
   The senior de Montaigne took his place on the left side of the coach, Vincent sat in the middle, squeezed in between his father and Mr. Mershenson. Now, his thoughts were no longer directed to a bed but to the rhythm of the wheels which had begun to roll. Vincent could not imagine coming to this land if his father were not with him. Mr. Mershenson's benign presence was a comfort. Vincent did not ask how far they had to go.  Mr. Mershenson had come a long way to receive his friend. Any question from Vincent would be embarrassing.
  He had a residence about fifty miles from Bombay. Vincent hoped that the trip would not be long and even if he had to suffer for an hour, he would recuperate from the fatigue and unease of being wedged between the two portly gentlemen, who had not desisted from the incessant discussion in trying to update each other on all the news.
   Vincent had lost the thread of the conversation, his mind engrossed in his pair of legs, which were becoming more and more numb. He did not want to interrupt his dad, just to tell him how uncomfortable he was. The two elderly gentlemen had no idea that Vincent was in dire discomfort. He did not know what to do. He tried to concentrate his mind on something else but every time he turned to look at the landscape, he faced his father's face on one side and Mr. Mershenson's on the other.

 Copyright Emile M. Tubiana 2009 all rights reserved