The Trials of Radclyffe Hall by Diana Souhami (surface ebook reader .TXT) 📗

Giving up smoking was another bereavement. She took sedatives, chewed gum and craved nicotine. To take a cure she went to the Grotta Guisti, Monsummano, in Pistoia. She sat on a bench in a cave full of steam emanations then lay sweating on a bed and was massaged. She felt as if she was suffocating, came out in a virulent itching rash and had one of her spectacular temper losses when the nurse failed to give the cook her special menu.

She and Una left for Rye via Paris at the end of July. Evguenia agreed to go with them to England for a month ‘unless something unforeseen happens’. ‘The flat is in dust sheets,’ John wrote to her, ‘and looks sad as do all homes about to be left for even a short time.’ They would meet at the Vouillemont for ‘our long talk about the future’. ‘Oh Piggie my heart is so terribly heavy sometimes when I think of you and all that might have been. NO – NO – I have not written that, please don’t take it up angerally when you answer this letter.’

Evguenia looked fit. She was wearing a Burberry suit that cost her 1,750 francs, her hair was dyed red and she had bought a Topolino car. John would not travel in it and left a performance of Cyrano at the Comédie Française in panic at the thought of Evguenia in a crash. During their ‘long talk’ Evguenia told her she was going to study at the Sorbonne. She would see John often she loved her and did not want to lose her, but she had a sense of community in Paris with her Russian friends. She and Lysa planned to rent a little country cottage at Rambouillet for the weekends.

Una sensed Evguenia was strong and her resolution real. Such confidence infuriated her. Evguenia’s freedom did not give her the victory she sought. It made her own life untenable. It pushed her toward a truth she would never accept: John was not, and had not been for many years if ever, ‘the least bit in love’ with her. She seemed to find life alone with her intolerable and not worth living. Una fought on, excelling with insults:

I suspect Evguenia has native blood. The negroid nose and lips, the queer little eyes when asleep, she looks amazingly African. And of course her character. The lying and deceiving, the superficiality and unreliability and the indolence, all suggestive of the half or quarter breed. It may be some quite distant strain but I strongly suspect it is there.

Evguenia feared John was seriously ill and asked to see Dr Fuller with her. At the end of the session she tried to speak to him without Una. Una would not allow it. ‘I cannot get over the impudence of her trying to prevent my speaking to him and saying John was her patient when she had left her to live or die.’

In Rye John put the Forecastle on the market for £1,750 and accepted the first offer, which was for £1,500. She and Una had a session with Mrs Leonard who assured them there would be no war. Troubridge appeared, eighteen inches above Feda’s head, and offered Una sympathy and help. She clasped his hand in friendship. Evguenia spent most of her time with the Smallhythe trio, working in the garden. They liked her and found her obliging.

Andrea came to Rye. After five years of marriage she was going to divorce Toby Warren. She said he took no interest in their son and that sleeping with a drunk was repulsive. She wanted to break free while young enough to marry again. She had left the Catholic Church as she would not take comfort from its rituals when she could not observe its teachings.

At lunch in the Mermaid Evguenia tried to tell Una that John ought not drink spirits because of her blood pressure. Una said, ‘I can’t listen now Evguenia, I’m busy.’ Back at the Forecastle she pursued the remark:

I knocked on Evguenia’s door and receiving no answer pushed it ajar and said, ‘Could I come in?’ to which she replied, merely, ‘Yes’, and I went in saying very quietly, ‘Now you are alone Evguenia, will you tell me what it was you wished to say about John?’ Immediately she was launched. ‘Oh no. I’m not going to tell you anything now.’ I replied, ‘O yes. You must tell me anything you know about John’s health. After what you have suggested you can’t refuse.’ There followed a perfect torrent of shrill vituperation. No sense to it at all. John drank too much, cocktails, spirits, wine, her blood pressure was high and her liver upset and I cared nothing what happened to her so long as I could oppose her, Evguenia. She mimicked me. ‘Oh I hear you. Darling have a glass of wine. Darling have a cocktail. Darling have another helping.’ John ate too much also, and more incoherent fury. Terrified that John should hear, and be dragged into a scene, I made for the door, saying we could not possibly have such an upheaval while she was ill. Whereupon the fury flung herself between me and the door, took me by the shoulders saying, between clenched teeth, ‘Oh no, you don’t leave the room,’ and threw me away from the door so that I nearly fell over. I recovered my balance and said with what dignity I could muster, ‘Evguenia, this is outrageous you cannot lay hands on me, and keep me from leaving a room in my own house. Let me pass please.’ In which she, bearing down threateningly upon me, raged, ‘Oh, can’t I! I ought to strike you! strike you! but now I’ve got you here, and you’re going to hear all I’ve got to say to you, and I would have you remember that I’m your guest, and it’s your duty to be civil to me.’ To which I replied, ‘I’m your hostess and