The Madness Of Love | The Secret History

V

The weekends at Francis's house were the happiest times. The trees turned early that fall but the days stayed warm well into October, and in the country we spent most of our time outside. Apart from the occasional game of tennis we never did anything very athletic; something about the place inspired a magnificent laziness I hadn't known since childhood.

Now that I think about it, it seems while we were out there we drank almost constantly - never very much at once, but the thin trickle of spirits which began with the Bloody Marys at breakfast would last until bedtime. I almost never saw Lilith without a glass of wine in her hand, or Francis and Charles without a glass of gin.

Bringing a book outside to read, I would fall asleep almost immediately in my chair; when I took the boat out I would soon get tired of rowing and allowed myself to drift all afternoon.

Occasionally, we would attempt something a little more ambitious. Once, when Francis found a Beretta and ammunition in his aunt's night table, we went through a brief spate of target practice. But that came to a quick end when Henry, who was very nearsighted, shot and killed a duck by mistake. He was quite shaken by it and Lilith spent the rest of the day calming him down (which astonished me), so we put the pistol away.

The others liked croquet, but Bunny and I didn't; neither of us ever got the hang of it. Every now and then, we roused ourselves sufficiently to go on a picnic. We were always too ambitious at the outset, and those picnics invariably ended with all of us hot and sleepy and slightly drunk.

It was always a tremendous occasion if Julian accepted an invitation to dinner in the country. Francis would order all kinds of food from the grocery store and leaf through cookbooks and worry for days about what to serve, what wine to serve it with, which dishes to use, what to have in the wings as a backup course should the soufflé fall. Lilith always dreaded those occasions, mostly because she hated how nervous Francis would become. All that he would talk about was the dinner, what to serve. One time he got so nervous that he almost had a stroke.

I don't know why we insisted on making such a production of these dinners, because by the time Julian arrived we were invariably nervous and exhausted. They were a dreadful strain for everyone (except Lilith, who did as much as the rest of us but still somehow managed to not look tired), the guest included, I am sure - though he would never show that. Julian accepted about one of every three such invitations and I have to say, I was honestly glad about that.

Though at the time I found those dinners wearing and troublesome, now I find something very wonderful in the memory of them: that dark cavern of a room, with vaulted ceilings and a fire crackling in the fireplace, our faces luminous and ghostly pale. The firelight magnified our shadows and the whoosh of flames was like a flock of birds, trapped and beating in a whirlwind near the ceiling.

There is one scene that I'm still thinking about after all these years, that is still so bright and vivid in my mind. It happened right before one of these dinners, when Julian was almost there. I decided to go to the library and get a book, thinking that it could calm my nerves, which occurred every time before dinner with him. I heard muffled voices coming from inside, but still opened the door.
The scene I stumbled upon was so unusual, so picturesque, that it almost looked like a painting. Lilith and Henry were standing alone in the room (which then was a very strange occurrence). Henry had his back turned from the door. He stood like a statue, looking into the fireplace which was burning low, and with the most stern look in his eyes I've ever seen. It seemed that if he looked at me, I would turn to stone.
Lilith was leaning against a bookcase, her hands crossed on her chest, with the same cold look in her eyes.

"You don't understand" said Henry, his fists clenched. "What don't I understand? That you're a dick with no feelings?" was her response. "You think I have no feelings? I have feelings. I care about you." "You care about me?" Lilith's voice was trembling. "Have you cared about me when you fucked Camilla? Have you thought about how I would feel? No! You only care about yourself, you pretentious motherfucker." she was shouting, and it was surprising that no one else heard it. Or at least they pretended not to.

Henry didn't say anything. They stayed quiet for a couple of minutes, then Lilith scoffed and started walking out of the library. If I had been smart I would have gone somewhere else. But I didn't. She walked through the door and then saw me. If she was surprised, she didn't show it. She fixed her hair with one hand and then calmly, like nothing happened said to me: "C'mon Richie, let's go. I think Julian is already here." and she walked away. After a minute I came to my senses and followed her.

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There is another scene from those dinners that I'll never forget. After our dinners, Julian, at the head of the long table, rises to his feet and lifts his wineglass. "Live forever" he says.
And the rest of us rise too, and clink our glasses across the table, like an army regiment crossing sabres: Henry and Bunny, Charles and Francis, Camilla and I. Lilith would only lift her glass.
"Live forever" we chorus, throwing our glasses back in unison.
And always that same toast. Live forever.

I honestly have no idea how to feel about this.