The Collector

 Well, I said I couldn't agree to that and she turned away again. Then she was crying. I could see her shoulders moving, I wanted to go up to her, I did near the bed but she turned so sharp I think she thought I was going to attack her. Full of tears her eyes were. Cheeks wet. It really upset me to see her like that.

 Please be reasonable. You know what you are to me now; can't you see I haven't made all these arrangements just so you'd stay a week more?

 "I hate you, I hate you."

 I'll give you my word, I said. When the time's up you can go as soon as you like.

 She wouldn't have it. It was funny, she sat there crying and staring at me, her face was all pink. I thought she was going to come at me again, she looked as if she wanted to. But then she began to dry her eyes. Then she lit a cigarette. And then she said, "Two weeks."

 I said, you say two, I say five. I'll agree to a month. That'd be November the fourteenth.

 There was a pause, and she said, "Four weeks is November the eleventh."

 I was worried about her, I wanted to clinch it, so I said, I meant a calendar month, but make it twenty-eight days. I'll give you the odd three days, I said.

 "Thank you very much." Sarcastic, of course.

 I handed her a cup of coffee, which she took.

 "I've some conditions too," she said before she drunk it. "I can't live all the time down here. I must have some fresh air and light. I must have a bath sometimes. I must have some drawing materials. I must have a radio or a record-player. I need things from the chemist. I must have fresh fruit and salads. I must have some sort of exercise."

 If I let you go outside, you'll escape, I said.

 She sat up. She must have been acting it up a bit before, she changed so quickly. "Do you know what on parole means?"

 I replied yes.

 "You could let me out on parole. I'd promise not to shout or try to escape."

 I said, have your breakfast and I'll think about it.

 "No! It's not much to ask. If this house really is lonely, it's no risk."

 It's lonely all right, I said. But I couldn't decide.

 "I'm going on hunger strike again." She turned round, she was really putting on the pressure, as they say.

 Of course you can have drawing materials, I said. You only had to ask anyhow. And a gramophone. Any records you want. Books. The same with food. I told you you need only ask. Anything like that.

 "Fresh air?" She still had her back turned.

 It's too dangerous.

 Well, there was a silence, she spoke as plain as words, though, and in the end I gave in.

 Perhaps at night. I'll see.

 "When?" She turned then.

 I'll have to think. I'd have to tie you up.

 "But I'd be on parole."

 Take it or leave it, I said.

 "The bath?"

 I could fix up something, I said.

 "I want a proper bath in a proper bath. There must be one upstairs."

 Something I thought a lot about was how I would like her to see my house and all the furnishings! It was partly I wanted to see her there in it, naturally when I had dreams she was upstairs with me, not down in the cellar. I'm like that, I act on impulse sometimes, taking risks others wouldn't.

 I'll see, I said. I'd have to make arrangements.

 "If I gave you my word, I wouldn't break it."

 I'm sure, I said.

 So that was that.

 It seemed to clear the air, so to speak. I respected her and she respected me more afterwards. The first thing she did was write out a list of things she wanted. I had to find an art-shop in Lewes and buy special paper and all sorts of pencils and things: sepia and Chinese ink and brushes, special hair and sizes and makes. Then there were things from the chemist: smell-removers and so on. It was a danger getting ladies' things I couldn't want for myself, but I took the risk. Then she wrote down food to buy, she had to have fresh coffee, and a lot of fruit and vegetables and greens -- she was very particular about that. Anyway after she used to write down almost every day what we had to buy, she used to tell me how to cook it too, it was just like having a wife, an invalid one you had to do shopping for. I was careful in Lewes, I never went to the same shop twice running so that they wouldn't think I was buying a lot for one person. Somehow I always thought people could tell I lived on my own.

 That first day I bought a gramophone too. Only a small one, but I must say she looked very pleased, I didn't want her to know I didn't know anything about music but I saw a record with some orchestra music by Mozart so I bought that. It was a good buy, she liked it and so me for buying it. One day much later when we were hearing it, she was crying. I mean, her eyes were wet. After, she said he was dying when he wrote it and he knew he was dying. It just sounded like all the rest to me but of course she was musical.