Lanark_ a life in 4 books - Alasdair Gray [202]
A long-haired young man wearing blue overalls sat reading a book on a lidded stone font near the door. He glanced up and said, “Where have you been, Arthur? Polyphemus is going berserk. He thinks he’s discovered something.”
“I’m in a hurry, Jack,” said Ritchie-Smollet crisply. “These people need rest and attention. Will anywhere be clear for a while? I mean really clear?”
“Nothing scheduled for the arts lab.”
“Then get blankets and pillows into it and clean sheets, really clean sheets, and make up a bed.”
“Yes but” —the youth laid down his book and slid to the floor—“what will I tell Polyphemus?”
“Tell him politics is not man’s chief end.”
The youth hurried off between rows of rush-bottomed chairs covering the great flagged floor. The cathedral seemed vaster inside than out. The central pillars upholding the tower hid what lay beyond, but organ tones and blurred hymnal voices indicated a service there. At the same time the hard beat of wilder music sounded from somewhere below. Ritchie-Smollet said, “Not a bad God kennel, is it? The October Terminus are having a gig in the crypt. Some people don’t approve of that, but I tell them that at the Reformation the building was used by three congregations simultaneously and in my father’s house are many mansions. Do you need the lavatory?”
“No,” muttered Rima, who had sunk into a chair. “No, no, no, no.”
“Come on, then. Not far now.”
They moved slowly down a side aisle and Lanark had time to notice that the cathedral had clearly been used in several ways since its foundation. Torn flags hung overhead; against the walls stood ornate memorials to soldiers killed while invading remote continents. Before the arches under the tower they turned left and went down some steps, then right and descended others into a small chapel. An orange light hung in the stone-ribbed ceiling but the stone was whitewashed and the effect was restful. The air was warmed and scented by paraffin heaters in the corners; a stack of plastic mattresses against a wall nearly touched the ceiling. Three of these were laid edge to edge and Jack was making a bed on the middle one. Rima lay down on it when he finished and Lanark helped remove her coat. “Don’t go to sleep yet—I’ll be back in a jiff,” said Ritchie-Smollet and went out. Jack adjusted the wicks of the heaters and followed him. Lanark shed his own coat and sat with Rima’s head on his lap. He was weary but couldn’t relax because his clothes felt sticky and foul. He fingered the matted beard on his cheeks and chin and touched the thinning hair on his scalp. Clearly he had grown older. He looked down at Rima, whose eyes were closed. Her hair was black once more, and apart from the big belly her whole figure seemed slighter than in the council corridors. A small insulted frown between the brows suggested an angry little girl, but her lips had the beautiful repose of a mature, contented woman of thirty or forty. He gazed and gazed but couldn’t decide her age at all. She sighed and murmured, “Where’s Sludden?”
He overcame a pang of anger and said gently, “I don’t know, Rima.”
“You’re nice to me, Lanark. I’ll always trust you.”
Ritchie-Smollet and Jack brought basins of hot water, towels, clean nightshirts, and went out again. Rima lay on the towels while Lanark sponged and dried her, taking special care of the great belly, which looked more normal naked than clothed. She slid between the sheets and Ritchie-Smollet returned with a black leather case. He knelt by the bed and took out thermometer, stethoscope and sterilized gloves in a transparent envelope. He slipped the thermometer below Rima’s armpit and was tearing the envelope when she opened her eyes and said sharply, “Turn round Lanark.”
“Why?”
“If you don’t turn round I won’t let him touch me.”
Lanark turned round and walked to the far side of a pillar, his feet cold on the bare stone. He stopped and stared at the ceiling. The arching ribs came together in carved knops, and one showed a pair of tiny snakes twining across the brow of a very cheerful skull in the middle of