Long Lankin: Stories

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Book: Read Long Lankin: Stories for Free Online
Authors: John Banville
the tall grey-haired man was sitting at the table, twisting the brim of his hat in his long fingers.
    —No Tantey, no, you’re hurting my hair!
    The girl clutched at the door frame, tears on her face, while the old woman tugged furiously at her hair. The grey-haired man rose uncertainly and peered out at them with raised eyebrows. When she saw him the girl sent up a fearful wail, and lifting her arm she flung something, something white flashed past him and there was the tinkle of glass breaking. He spoke, but his words were drowned by the cries of the girl:
    —No Tantey no, leave me alone, I don’t want to see him, I don’t want to, you’re hurting me, Tantey, let go you’re hurting me …

Sanctuary
     
    Julie awoke in the chill October morning to find the air before her face finely traced with a web of blood. In the day’s first terror she reached out blindly beside her. The bed was empty. She whimpered, but already the mist had begun to fade from her eyes. She lay back on the pillow and wiped the sweat from her lips, from the hollows of her eyes. On the ceiling above her, light moved and flowed, reflections from the sea below her window. She got out of bed, a hand in her damp hair. She pushed her feet into slippers, untangled a knot in the sash of her nightgown, stood up unsteadily. Another day, the last, another day.
    From the bathroom she went down the stairs, buttoning her blouse. She paused on the last step. Helen was in the living room, sitting on the couch by the window, looking out. Light invaded the room through the long window, soft light from the sea, it touched the legs of the table, glowing, and fell among Helen’s dark hair. Her hand was raised to her cheek, and in the long white fingers a cheroot burned silently, sending up into the cool sea light a narrow line of smoke. Julie said:
    —I dreamed all night of something following me.
    Helen did not move, but went on looking toward the beach and the morning sea. Only the silent line of smoke wavered in its course, and then was still again. Julie’s eyes narrowed, and her voice was hard when she said:
    —And today I’m bleeding. I’m glad this is all finished.
    Helen stood up slowly, and slowly turned.
    —Why do you say that?
    Julie crossed the room and sat down on the couch. Staring at the space between her feet she found a cigarette and fumbled it nervously to her mouth. She left it unlit. Helen looked down at her, faintly smiling, and asked again:
    —Why do you say that, Julie?
    In the silence both seemed to be pulling on some frail, invisible cord stretched between them. Julie said:
    —Where were you when I needed you? Where? You know I can’t wake up alone. You know that. You left me there to wake in that awful room with not a sound anywhere. I hate this place.
    Helen looked at the cheroot, holding it upright to save the long tip of ash. She said:
    —I’m sorry. I didn’t think you would wake so early. You don’t usually wake so early, do you?
    Julie lifted her hands, examined them, and put them away again.
    —I have to get out, she said.
    Helen went and stood at the window, saying:
    —Then you won’t come back to university?
    —No.
    —You mean that? You have decided? You won’t take the degree?
    —No.
    —That will be … a pity, Helen said carefully.
    Julie closed her eyes and lay back on the couch. After a moment she said in a strange, flat voice, as though reciting a lesson:
    —I want to get married. I want to have a baby. My mother worries about me. She asks what are my plans. What are your plans? she asks. What can I tell her? I’m not like you. I’m weak. I feel sorry for her. I want to tell her there’s someone. That everything is all right. But what have I to tell her?
    She stood up and wandered about the room, turning away from the barrier of each wall with a look of pain.
    —Three months we have been here, she said in wonder. Three months and so much has changed. Helen, why do things change?
    Helen looked out at

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