The Collector

 It was all formal, she turned away to have her breakfast, and I waited outside. When I knocked on the door to see if I could clear away, she was dressed and the bed properly made, I asked if she wanted anything but she didn't. She said I was to get TCP ointment for myself, and she handed me the tray with just the ghost of a smile. It doesn't seem much, but it marked a big change. It almost seemed to make the head worth it. I was really happy that morning. Like the sun was coming out again.

 After that for two or three days we were neither one thing nor the other. She didn't say much, but she wasn't bitter or cutting at all. Then one day after breakfast she asked me to sit down as I used to in the beginning so she could draw me. It was just to give herself an excuse to talk.

 "I want you to help me," she said.

 Carry on, I answered.

 "I have a friend, a girl, who's got a young man in love with her."

 Go on, I said. She stopped. To watch me walk into it, I suppose.

 "He's so much in love with her that he's kidnapped her. He's keeping her prisoner."

 What a coincidence.

 "Isn't it? Well, she wants to be free again and she doesn't want to hurt him. And she just doesn't know what to do. What would you advise?"

 Patience, I said.

 "What must happen before the young man will release her?"

 Anything might happen.

 "All right. Don't let's play games. Tell me what I must do to be set free."

 I couldn't answer, I thought if I said live with me for ever we'd only be back where we started.

 "Marriage is no good. You can't trust me."

 Not yet.

 "If I went to bed with you?"

 She'd stopped drawing. I wouldn't answer.

 "Well?"

 I didn't think you were that sort, I said.

 "I'm just trying to find your price." Just like it was a new Washing-machine she was inquiring the pros and cons of.

 You know what I want, I said.

 "But that's just what I don't!"

 You know all right.

 "Oh, God. Look. Just answer yes or no. Do you want to go to bed with me?"

 Not like we are now.

 "What are we like now?"

 I thought you were supposed to be the clever one.

 She took a deep breath. I liked having her on a bit. "You feel I'm only looking for a way to escape? Whatever I did would be just for that? Is that it?"

 I said yes.

 "If you felt I was doing it for some other reason. Because I liked you. Just for fun. You would like it then?"

 I can buy what you're talking about in London any time I want, I said.

 That shut her up a bit. She started drawing again.

 After a bit she said, "You haven't got me here because you find me sexually attractive."

 I find you very attractive, I said. The most.

 "You're just like a Chinese box," she said. Then she went on drawing and we didn't say any more. I tried to, but she said it spoilt the pose.

 I know what some would think, they would think my behaviour peculiar. I know most men would only have thought of taking an unfair advantage and there were plenty of opportunities. I could have used the pad. Done what I liked, but I am not that sort, definitely not that sort at all. She was like some caterpillar that takes three months to feed up trying to do it in a few days. I knew nothing good would come of it, she was always in such a hurry. People today always want to get things, they no sooner think of it they want to get it in their hands, but I am different, old-fashioned, I enjoy thinking about the future and letting things develop all in good time. Easy does it, as Uncle Dick used to say when he was into a big one.

 What she never understood was that with me it was having. Having her was enough. Nothing needed doing. I just wanted to have her, and safe at last.

 Two or three days passed. She never said much, but then one day after lunch she said, "I'm a prisoner for life, aren't I."

 I could tell she was just talking, so I said nothing.

 "Hadn't we better start being friends again?"

 O.K. with me, I said.

 "I'd like a bath tonight."

 O.K.

 "Then could we sit upstairs? It's this room. I get mad for a change."

 I said I'd see.

 Actually, I lit the fire and got everything ready. Made sure there was nothing she could pick up and have a bash at me with. It's no good pretending I had my old trust in her.

 Well, she went up to her bath and it was all like as usual. When she came out I did her hands, no gag, and I followed her downstairs. I noticed she had a lot of her French scent on, she'd done her hair up the way she did it before, and she was wearing a purple and white housecoat I bought her. She wanted some of the sherry we never finished (there was still half a bottle there) and I poured it out and she stood by the log fire looking down into it, holding out her bare feet turn by turn to warm them. We stood there drinking; we didn't say anything but she gave me one or two funny looks, like she knew something I didn't and that made me nervous.

 Well she had another glass, and drank it off in a minute and then wanted another.