From: Philippa Chapman (Glastonbury, Somerset, UK.) Date: Sun, 23 Feb 1997 15:00 +0000 Subject: Looking-glass Limbo, part 4/10 LOOKING-GLASS LIMBO PART 4 I found myself facing a mirror. I got the briefest impression of acres of white on a round, pleasant face. My right hand jerked involuntarily and I drew a long line of red across my cheek. Oh, no, not a woman *again*!! Then my vision cleared, I recognised the make-up in the mirror and a broad grin spread across my face. "I'm a *clown*!" A voice came from behind me and two white-gloved hands laid themselves on my shoulders. "I think, Co-co, you'd better sort your mouth out before we face whatever's out *there*." The head gestured to one side. I became aware of giggling, running and youthful shouts in what sounded like a largely wooden structure. I turned to face the speaker. It was another clown, similar to me. Then I recognised the blue eyes laughing down at me. "Viola!" My grin got pretty close to breaking point and the desire to finish that tantalising kiss was so strong, I would have given in if I hadn't realised what a mess we'd make of our make-up. I also had a sneaking feeling that just one kiss wouldn't be enough for me. "It's good to see you, too. Do you need a hand to repair the damage?" She started peeling off one of her gloves, but I knew if she touched my face right at this minute, my fragile self-control would vanish. Her business-like manner bothered me too. I hoped I hadn't offended her with our brief kiss. "No, no, I'm fine, Viola. I've put on stage make-up before." I turned back to the mirror and made a point of concentrating on the task in hand. "We're both Auguste clowns, Sam. That has a certain poetry to it." "What do you mean, Viola?" "Well, the Auguste clown represents Everyman and the Vulnerable lover......just like us." I nodded in understanding. I was starting to wonder how to raise the subject of that kiss as tactfully and safely as possible, when Al and Beatrice arrived, simultaneously. "Well, hello, Morecambe and Wise. What're you going to give us *this* time?" Al and I looked at Viola. "Morcambe and *who*??" we echoed together. Viola struggled for an analogy. "Um....I suppose they were Britain's answer to Rowan and Martin or possibly George and Gracie Burns, but in the late 60's and 70's. I'll make a point of showing you the videos sometime. You missed a real treat." Viola picked up a loose paper bag, made the mimed action of throwing something in the air, which then apparently landed back in the bag. It was highly crazy, but also somehow utterly convincing. I smiled in spite of myself. "Could you do that on stage, for the kids out there?" "Of course! What clowning skills have you got?" Al put in his dollar's worth. "Sam doesn't need any, he clowns around all the time. Now, don't look at me like that, Sam. You can't touch me and you know you always land on your feet.......or your tush!" "When and where are we, Al?" I asked, fighting the urge to try to hit him. Beatrice answered for him while he glared, but he was still too much of a gentleman to interrupt a woman. "Well, Sam, you're an extremely lucky man. You're in the city where I was born," I could see a witty riposte coming into Al's mind, but I silenced him with a glare,"It's Edinburgh, the year is....1988 and it's Tuesday March 29th. You're about to put on a wee show for all the tiny lads and lassies out there. Apparently the lady Viola's leaped into.......her name's Ariadne, by the way, got a badly broken hip falling over in the hall and she couldn't carry children to full term...oh, that's terribly sad. You're both here to make sure it doesn't happen. You're name's Val, by the way, Sam." Well, that was *helpful*. The face in the mirror could have been male or female under the make-up I was wearing. I was just going to have to play safe until I knew better. Then my Swiss-cheesed brain reminded me of the embarrassing situation I'd left Harry and Mick in. I was very glad that no-one could see me blush under my make-up. Al, I think you and I need a little private talk *outside*." It wasn't easy, having to spill out exactly what had happened between Viola and me. Al's grin grew broader and broader along with my discomfort. I made him swear not to breath a word to anyone until I'd squared things with Viola personally. Of course, I didn't let him know my feelings overtly, but I could see Al doing some good guesswork. He threw in his usual oblique references to his other wives, but this time around, he seemed more distant from them than ever. I hazarded a private guess that he'd married them out of a need to fill a gap in his life more than anything else, although he still had fond memories of Ruthie. I wondered again if she had died, but I couldn't remember and I was not about to ask. "I just wanted to be sure that Harry and Mick didn't remember what happened." Al smirked as he elicited a response from Ziggy. Then I saw his eyes open wide in surprise and his face went all cagey. He looked at me and took a deep breath. "I don't know how to tell you this, Sam, but you weren't starting something that hadn't already been going on for some time." I blinked in shock. "But that's *incest*, Al. And they had dates with women for the next night, too!" "I'm afraid these guys liked it both ways, kid. They were especially keen on four-in-a-bed romps. Now one guy and three women, that I could understand!" "Al, please. Not more sordid revelations!" "I only did it once, and that was *ages* ago when I was younger and fitter...but you don't want to hear the reason I was called 'Bingo'; you've got that disapproving look on your face again." I sighed deeply and went back into the building deliberately. I'm as human as the next guy....well possibly not Al; I know only too well the attractions of a lovely woman, especially when they smile radiantly at me as Viola did as I re-entered the dressing-room. I just can't think of making love in the same terms as recreation, there has to be more to it than that for me. There should be more to it than that for Al, too. Perhaps he might find it someday.....it would do him so much good to find real love again. "Well, what kept you? You and Viola have a show to put on for the kiddies." "I'm sorry, Bea...." I was cut off in the middle of my apology by Al. "I was just asking Sam if he thinks you're a *natural* redhead." I stood, absolutely stunned, while Al's eyes made a leisurely and frankly suggestive tour of Beatrice's body. "There's no way *you're* ever going to find out, *pal*!" "What a shame! You don't know who you're rejecting, sweetheart." "Oh, yes I do! You're like all Italian men, all fluent empty promises and pinching bottoms for sport! I *hate* Italian men." Viola shot to her feet. "Now you know perfectly well that's not true Bea. You drool helplessly over Robert De Niro." She grinned significantly at Al and me behind Beatrice's back. "Ah, well, yes; but he's got charm and that sexy birthmark." Al's smile became almost triumphant. "*I've* got charm....*and* a birthmark like his." Beatrice came closer out of sheer curiosity. Al's smile should have warned her, but she was too busy examining his face, which was exactly what he wanted. "I canna see any birthmark." Al turned to her. They were almost nose to nose. He looked deep into her eyes with his best smoulder. I actually *saw* her pupils widen until they were fully open in response. "Beatrice, darling, my birthmark's not on my *face*." I saw a jumble of emotions pass across her face; shock, surprise and blatant interest, before she resolved herself into a patently false enforced anger, turned on her heel and left. Viola sat back down heavily on the chair, hiccuping with mirth and surprise. I wanted so much to be angry with Al, but I couldn't be. Viola was right, watching them spark off each other was *so* much more interesting. Al was smiling like the cat that just got the cream. "Vincera!" he clasped his hands over his head like a football player that's just won the cup,"One day Beatrice *will* give in!" Viola looked doubtful. "I shouldn't count your chickens yet, Al. I know Beatrice better that you. You've got a lot of patient work to do before overcoming her defences. You've got the drawbridge down, but raising the portcullis will be harder than you think." I winced, expecting another suggestive comment, but Al had suddenly become much quieter. * *"But there is a chance, isn't there? She's absolutely *gorgeous*, Viola. I never expected to feel this way about a woman again. Now everything's awake and I'm enjoying every minute!" Viola smiled warmly at him. "I wish you all the luck in the world. Is there any way you can tell her how you feel while you're crossing swords with her?" "If I could touch her, she'd have found out long ago!" Viola laughed. "Yes, but you *can't* Al, not yet. You've started to affect her with your words. Now it's time for a little romance, even if you have to do it in Italian." Al nodded, thoughtfully. "Okay, thanks for your help, Viola. You weren't ever a relationship counsellor, were you? We'd better go entertain those kids out there before they cause a riot!" I held out my hand to her and we made our grand entrance. There were about twenty screaming kids running up and down playing a kind of copy cat game led by a blond woman somewhere in her thirties. She smiled when she first saw us. "Look everybody at who's come to visit us!" She could certainly throw her voice. The kids came careering down to our end of the hall. Two of them were too similar to the blond lady to be anything but her children. The others were a cross-section of shapes and colors, but all about six or so. I saw Viols fish in her pocket and find some modelling balloons. She turned to me. "Co-co, do you know what to do with these?" she said in an unnaturally bright voice. I caught on immediately, hunching my shoulders and shaking my head very mournfully. "Children, do *you* know what these are?" Several hands shot up. Viola took it from there. We must have used up a good half hour or so, letting the kids 'teach' me how to make a sausage dog out of a long thin balloon. By the time we were through, every child had a balloon animal and I was nearly out of breath. It didn't help any that every time Viola touched me, I got a tingle of electricity all the way up my spine. Then she mimed for me to look in my pockets. I did so and found three juggling balls. I grinned; here was something I *could* do. I'd picked up juggling with the fallen apples on the farm and gone from there. I showed all the tricks that I could do, then gently lobbed the balls in Viola's direction. She couldn't do it! I think she genuinely tried, then failed. I moved over to show her by standing at a discreet distance behind her and helping her hands do the movements. The kids loved it. So did I. Just to hold her hands in mine was such a privilege. Then she somehow tripped, skidded and lost her balance and we fell in a heap on the floor. The kids screamed with laughter. For a few seconds I had my arms filled with Viola . It was sheer sweet torture. Then she made a great play of picking herself up and dusting herself off and so did I. The blond lady came over and called the kids into the next room for tea. "Thank-you both so much, Mr and Mrs Coco. I'll let you have your cheque later." Mr and Mrs, eh? Things were definitely looking up. We went back into the dressing room. I was about to make a move on Viola, when I saw that Al was there. I gave him a black look and set to cleaning off my make-up. I think he knew exactly what I wanted to do and he was hanging around playing 'gooseberry' just to annoy me. My face was completely clean fairly soon. I saw my host properly for the first time. Fair curly hair, blue eyes and a round pleasant sort of face. A masculine face. I looked over to see Viola's reflection. She was nearly as dark as I was light; olive skin, dark brown eyes and hair. Mediterranean blood, by the look of it and all woman. "Al, the hostess of the party said something about our two hosts being married. Is that true?" I tried to sound as nonchalant as possible. Al raised an eyebrow in the mirror at us. "Yes, Sam....they met in Greece and learnt clown skills together. Then all of a sudden, romance blossomed and they set up in partnership. They've been married six.....six months. Ziggy says they're now going to have a couple of little clowns of their own one day. Isn't that nice?" Viola looked up at me. She still had her soft false red nose on. She grinned at me. "Beep!" she exclaimed, touching her false nose to mine. The temptation and longing were too strong, Al or no Al. I kissed her full on the mouth. She froze for just a second, then suddenly her lips responded completely to mine. I was dimly aware of the sound of the Imaging Chamber door shutting as Viola came up out of the chair into my waiting arms. Our kiss broke for a moment while we re-organised ourselves. Viola removed the false nose, which was in danger of getting completely mangled out of shape. "I never knew clowns could be such fantastic kissers," I murmured as I found her lips again. We moved as one; every slightest caress of mine met and fulfilled with an equal one of hers. I heard a sigh of pleasure, but didn't know or care if it came from her or me. Her lips parted willingly under mine at the precise moment I wanted them to do so. I was on the verge of exploring the inner sweetness of her mouth when the leap caught us. Not again! Oh, please, not again! I tried to hold onto her, make the moment last, but it was no good. Some vicious minded demon was determined to leave me only partially satisfied. I could have kissed her lips for *hours*. I arrived in a hospital operating room. I was standing near the head of the operating table. My hands were empty. Thank goodness I wasn't the surgeon, or the anaethsatist. I looked down the table. A heavily pregnant woman was undergoing Ceserian section. I looked down at her face, which was partially covered by the mask. I reached out and touched her face involuntarily, which immediately changed from an anonymous sandy red-head to Viola. Oh, my God, was she alright? The nurse saw my panic. "Don't worry, Mr Chapman. Your wife and baby are going to be just fine." I detected an unfamiliar lilt in her voice, but stored it away for later. I glanced down the table, just in time to see a rather bloody but perfectly healthy baby girl being delivered. The surgeon cleaned out her mouth with a gloved finger and she gave a hearty cry. No obvious problems there, but for some strange reason, I felt my eyes pricking with tears. I let the nurse lead me away and watch while they weighed the little scrap, checked her over and then I helped give her a wash. The nurse wrapped the little screaming bundle up in a small sheet and gave her to me to hold. "What are you going to call her?" I was struck dumb. The tiny baby had latched on to my finger and wasn't about to let go. Her unfocussed grey-blue eyes looked up in my direction. I felt a rush of protectiveness overwhelm me. "I....um.....I don't know...er...Sister. I'll wait and see what my wife says." I didn't take my eyes off the baby for one moment. "Alright, we'll just call her 'Baby Chapman' for now. Why don't you come down to the delivery ward and help settle her in while the doctors make your wife comfortable?" I finally glanced away from my precious bundle over to Viola. If anything, the protectiveness I felt grew stronger and something else I couldn't quite name came with it. I turned away, puzzling over this and followed the Sister with the baby now cradled in her arms. Al popped in just as I'd finished helping the nurse settle the baby. My baby - at least for a while. I suppose I was somehow sharing Mr Chapman's elation and pleasure. The baby started whimpering significantly. "Come on, little one," the Sister said,"Let's see if your mummy's ready to feed you yet. If not, I've got some nice bottled milk ready and waiting." She expertly picked the baby up. "I'll be back with your daughter soon, Mr Chapman; we've got one hungry little mouth here." I nodded dumbly as she disappeared. "Wow, she's *cute*," Al commented. I had a feeling he didn't just mean the baby. "*Al*, I thought you were after Beatrice?" Al grinned at me. "Beatrice is my goal, Sam, that's for sure. But she's awakened me to all the....*pleasures* of the female form that I've been missing all these years. Everywhere I look now I see smiles, eyes and curves that remind me of her. Not as good as hers, though. She's one in a million." "Okay, lover boy. Why am *I* here? And is Viola okay? She just leaped in in time to have a baby......I bet she doesn't even know she's a Mommy yet, she was out cold in the operating table." I got a sudden mental picture of Viola holding the baby in her arms. It didn't take much for me to imagine that it was *really* our baby. Then my treacherous mind skipped onto what would have happened to *make* the baby and I had to pull myself to a halt, fast. This was getting way too heavy. "Sam, you didn't hear my reply, did you?" "Er, no; sorry Al. I got myself distracted." I felt my ears go pink with shame. "It's Viola, isn't it, Sam? Look, if it was me leaping around in time with Beatrice, we'd have made beautiful music together long ago. I'm free and so is she. Even if we'd both had partners at home, she would be virtually impossible for me to resist. Sometimes you've even found comfort and closeness with a lady who was willing. But with you and Viola, it's *got* to be different. Neither of you can know if you're free; she probably has a handsome husband and beautiful kids waiting for her to come home. Be honest with yourself, kid. Could someone as nice as that be still single?" I fought a tough battle with myself, but Al was right. There's no way I'd ever get involved with another man's wife. I sighed deeply with regret. "It's not going to be easy, Al, but you're right of course. I'll stop it now before it gets out of hand. The consolation of having her as a friend and colleague will have to be enough," I looked at Al,"I can do this, Al. I've made my mind up." He looked at me for a long moment, obviously took in the determined look on my face, then nodded. "Sorry I had to do that to you, Sam. You know how much I hate being the bearer of bad news. Anyway, it's 1985. Er.....September 11th, Wednesday. You're in Cardiff, the capital city of Wales. Must be something to do with being with Viola, all these leaps into Great Britain. Ziggy says that there's something about the baby's name that's important, but I can't believe you'd leap into somewhere for something so trivial. I'll double check with her and you see if you can get better sense outta Beatrice." Once the nurse had brought the baby back, now peacefully asleep, I asked after 'my' wife. "She's safely out of surgery, Mr Chapman, but she's still asleep. You can go and visit her if you like." Of course! That lilt was a Welsh accent. I filed it away and went down the corridor to where Viola lay sleeping after her general anaesthetic. Beatrice was inside the room, watching her. Al was silently watching Beatrice. Viola's eyelids fluttered half-way open. "Joe.....you must call the baby Joseph....where's my little Joe?" "Viola, you've had a baby girl, not a boy." I looked up at Beatrice, whose face had become wet with silent tears. "Oh, no! She's remembering Joseph...after all this time." Beatrice continued weeping, silently and copiously. Al's face was wreathed in surprise and deep concern. I motioned for them both to leave the room. Viola's eyes had drifted shut again. I followed them out of the room and Beatrice began to explain. "It all started when Viola went away to University. She was doing very well and she wrote to me a lot about her new boyfriend, Peter. It was 1977 when I think they started to become intimate. They moved into a bedsit together and Viola seemed blissfully happy," Beatrice paused to wipe the tears off her face,"After they graduated, they stayed together. It was fine until Viola became pregnant. Peter apparently changed overnight, accusing her of trying to tie him down and 'bribing' him to marry her. Then he left her and went off to 'find' himself in India. I could have quite happily strangled him, he was so callous. <'You're not the only one' I thought>. I stood by her and helped her as much as I could. I'm glad Viola's father never knew. It would have killed him again. The pregnancy was fine, but when Joseph was born, he had a congenital heart defect - from Peter. If the doctor had known in advance, things might have been different; but Peter had never told Viola about it. They tried so hard to save him, but it was no good. Medicine wasn't as far advanced as it is now. Viola went into post- natal depression and when she came out the other side, it was to her as if Joseph, her little boy, had never existed. Then they found a growth and she had to have a hysterectomy. The only lasting damage it's had is on her attitude to relationships. She's told me more than once that she wouldn't settle for anything less than marriage and 100% commitment. I can understand that, but she's lost herself some nice men along the way because of it." Beatrice shook her head sadly, the tears flowing again. I muttered a few choice words about the bastard who had hurt Viola. "Cara mia," whispered Al,"If only I could hold you and share your pain." Al's body yearned towards Beatrice's. Beatrice was visibly moved by Al's unexpected tenderness. She came closer to him and reached out a hand. "Thank-you." Al made as if to support her hand with his own, then bent and planted a phantom kiss somewhere close to where the back of her hand appeared to be. Beatrice took her hand back with a kind of slow wonder and placed it next to her cheek, as if to transfer the kiss. She and Al looked into each other's eyes and I saw something deep and significant pass between them. I looked down at the floor, feeling myself to be the gooseberry now. I was profoundly moved when I saw the teardrops falling onto the floor and I realised that Viola's tragedy had affected me deeply. At least I could hold her, there couldn't be anything wrong with that, could there? I entered the room rather fast. Viola had come around almost completely. I moved swiftly to her side and gathered her in my arms. "Do you know you have a baby daughter?" Viola pulled away, mystified. She looked down at herself. "I *thought* I felt something...and my stomach feels so *sore*. Is the baby alright?" I nodded,"What's my name? Oh, it'll say on my bracelet." She held the bracelet up to her eyes. I could read it too. Mrs Grace Chapman. "And I'm Mr Chapman." Viola gave a wry smile. "You poor thing, having to be married to me *twice*! I just hope you can stand it." She was laughing at herself, but now I knew the truth, I could hear her pain somewhere deep inside. . Then the nurse came in with the baby in her mobile cot. A small pink fist waved itself in the air. Viola reached over, wincing as her stitches pulled. I helped her gather the baby in her arms. "You're so beautiful. I think you're a Bronwen." Viola looked at me for my agreement, then we leaped.