Free The Crack by Emma Tennant Page A

fitted out – There’s a woman after me –’ Baba’s hands groped frantically for the hem of Thirsk’s robe. Sternly he drew away from her.
    â€˜Who are you?’ Waters demanded in an inquisitorial tone. To his own shame he found the sight of the mud woman strangely exciting. How could it be that he, Waters, a supporter of the feminists in their claims for equality was provoked to a state of erection by Baba’s abasement? Sighing, he supposed that these things were sent as a trial on the Other Side. The suspicion dawned on him that this might in fact be Limbo, where God examined your behaviour before making up His mind where you should go.
    â€˜My name’s Baba,’ the pathetic girl said. ‘I’m looking for Park Lane!’
    Sobs that were only too human choked through the thick layers of slime. In an agony of embarrassment, Waters attempted to hide with his hand his state of arousal and glanced at Thirsk for support.
    Thirsk had noticed. His full power restored, he smiled invisibly behind his beard.
    â€˜This is the type of woman who goes on to become the schizophrogenic mother,’ he announced. ‘The sins of the mothers are handed down through the generations. Our opportunity, in this society at the dawn of creation, is to remove the mother altogether and substitute the communal anti-family.’
    As he spoke, Thirsk’s mind raced. Whatever happened, he must prevent Waters from crossing the river. He must leave him here, ostensibly in charge of the new society, while heand Harcourt shepherded their children to the other side. What better than to set up a camp for women like this – and Thirsk didn’t doubt that the clubs of Soho and the respectable homes of Knightsbridge alike would yield their quota of disastrous women, all of whom would wander into Hyde Park – what better than to suggest to Waters that he stay here in charge of them? Waters was clearly in a state of extreme sexual repression: in the guise of instructing these women in the true path, he could indulge himself to his heart’s content. And get on to the first stage of regression at the same time! Thirsk liked to help all mankind.
    Baba’s shrill voice broke into his calculations. ‘Oh God!’ she cried. ‘Look! She’s got here! Help me! Help me!’
    The children gave another piercing scream as the new arrival descended on them. This was too good to be true! As Thirsk’s and Waters’s eyes goggled and poor Harcourt covered his face with his hands, a figure more unbelievable than the first came running with odd, mechanical movements over the grass and at full tilt towards Baba’s muddy patch. Thirsk’s low whistle sounded sibilantly.
    â€˜A doll! A doll!’ the children shouted. Mary and Mrs Withers rushed at it, all their frustration at their lost playthings expressing itself in a wild possessiveness.
    â€˜Rene Mangrove,’ moaned Baba. ‘Don’t let her get at me, whatever happens!’
    But there was little chance of that. Before she could reach her goal the life-sized artificial woman had been pulled down by the children and had disappeared in a kicking fray of arms and legs.
    Ned and Mary, who had always fought over their toys, tugged at her from either end. A thoughtful bespectacled man, regressing as a long-hoped-for cure for homosexuality, pulled off her skirt and folded it into the shape of a nappy. Before he could change Rene Mangrove, Jo-Jo had seized it from him and torn it to shreds.
    Bleached nylon hair came out in tufts and scattered in the breeze like dandelion puffs. A bright blue eye sailed through the air and landed at Thirsk’s feet. Metallic lips curved in a love-goddess smile lay forgotten in the mud.
    Baba gave a little sigh. ‘Everyone I’m connected with seems to come to a bad end,’ she said sadly.
    A manly feeling came over Waters at the words. Tenderly he helped Baba to her feet. With