Her Face

I praised the masterpiece appropriately and was given it to "Put on your fridge door."

The loving welcome by Karin did not quell the slight feeling of apprehension I was experiencing. I wondered what was coming.

Angie had prepared a delicious meal, but I was unable to do it full justice. When was "It" going to begin, and where was Mr.Robbart?

The meal over, Karin was told to say good night, which she did with another damp kiss. She repeated the words she had greeted me with; "I told mummy you'd come to see me."

Karin put to bed, and the clearing up carried out as a joint effort by Angie and I, we settled into armchairs.

"Here it comes," I thought, and I was right.

"Peter, you must be wondering why I've asked you to visit us?"

"Yes, a bit."

"It's more for Karin than for me."

"Ah!"

"I don't have to tell you how fond she is of you."

"No."

"Ever since we got home she's been asking, 'When will Mr.Holbrook be coming to see me.' Now I understand that I have no right to impose on you, and make a friendly holiday acquaintanceship into a lifelong friendship, but I felt I had to ask you…"

"Ask me what, Angie," I queried, anxious for her to get to the point.

"Well, I think you are very fond of Karin, so I wondered…look, if it's too much to ask, just say, but if you'd…if you could see your way clear to…"

"To what, Angie?" I asked, thinking she'd never come to the crux of the matter.

"Look, Peter, if you could just drop in occasionally, just to say hello to her. I mean, it wouldn't have to be very often…"

I felt as if a trap was closing in on me. Was she asking me to be an ersatz daddy? To fill some void in her family life? I decided to take the plunge and ask what I saw as some vital questions.

"Angie, I know nothing about you. I think you know what you are asking me to do, and whether I say yes or no depends on me getting some straight answers to some questions."

"Yes, I thought it might come to that. What do you want to know?"

"Where is Mr.Robbart?"

"As far as a Mr.Robbart as my husband is concerned, he doesn't exist. Robbart is my single name. I use Mrs. I suppose, to give the impression that I have been married, and my husband is dead, or left me, or something like that."

"All right, Angie. Let me put it another way. Where is Karin's father?"

"At the moment I don't know exactly where. A lot of the time he's in the political capital. You see, he's a politician. He could be anywhere, drumming up support for the party – or himself."

"What happened, Angie, why isn't he around, why doesn't he spend time with you and Karin? Even a politician must get some time free for family matters."

She touched the scarred side of her face.

"Peter, doesn't that tell you why he's not around?"

"You mean he stays away because your…your…"

"I'm ugly and disfigured? Go on, say it Peter, it's the truth."

"No, I won't say it, because it isn't as simple as that."

"All right, Peter, if you must have the story, here it is. My ex-husband is, (she named a well-known up and coming young politician). To put it in the simplest terms, he married me for my looks. Oh yes, I was very beautiful once."

"He wanted a wife he could show off, someone that he thought might add to his status. I was to be a gracious and decorative hostess for his dinner parties, someone who would stand just a little behind him on the hustings. I think you get the picture."

"I had different motives for marrying. Oh, I intended to support him in his ambition, but I actually married for love."

"Look, he's not a bad man. One day, if he fulfils his ambition and heads the government, I'm sure he will do great things for this country. But everything in his life must be bent to that end, his ambition. Do you know, he even wanted me to have Karin because he thought that having a child would enhance his image in some quarters, especially if the child was attractive. I don't think he can help it, it's just the way his mind works."

"So what went wrong?"

"Peter, you're not that dull-witted. It's obvious isn't it? The moment I became disfigured, I was devalued in his eyes. Oh, while the media was interested in my accident he made the most of it. A loving husband caring for his badly burned wife and all that sort of garbage. But the moment there was nothing further to be gained down that track, I was finished."

"He didn't exactly leave me. He just spent as much time away from me as possible. At his dinner parties and on public occasions, it was one of his more attractive female Personal Assistants who took over my role. Whether he had sex with them or not, I don't know, but he certainly wasn't having it with me."

"Peter, do you know what hurt the most, not that he ever said it directly, but it was constantly implied; a child was a bit of a nuisance to have around after all, and not all that much help as a vote catcher."

Angie had spoken in a level tone up to this point, but suddenly she choked and tears welled up in her eyes.

"Do you know, Peter, he actually didn't want Karin any more. Can you imagine that? A lovely little girl…the sweetest child…and he didn't want her; she hadn't proved to be a political asset."

I felt my own tears lurking behind my eyes, and said, "It's his loss."

She went on, "Our de facto separation drifted on into real separation, then divorce. He made it quite clear that he was happy for me to have Karin. Oh, he was willing to be generous where money was concerned, but I did not and do not need his money. I have my own. You see, I didn't marry him for money, power or influence, I married him for love."

"Say I made a bad blunder if you like, but he was dynamic, he had looks and charm, and I fell for him. It took my accident to show me what he had inside him."

She had mentioned her accident, so I took the risk of pursuing that.

"How did you injure your face?"

She touched the scar again. "In a fire. We had a cottage in the bush we used to escape to sometimes. One weekend, when we were there, a bush fire swept though and the cottage caught fire. We got out all right, but stupidly I thought I could dash back in to rescue some family photographs, especially as most of them were of Karin as a baby. The fire had caught the roof, and a beam crashed down and hit me and momentarily rested on my face. A fireman pulled me out, but, I was badly burnt on the face, as you can see."

We both sat in silence for some minutes. Then I spoke.

"Angie, what you are asking me to do, is to be a substitute father. I'm twenty-four, just coming up to twenty-five. I don't think I'm ready to take on such a role."

"Peter," Angie said, "I want to tell you something else. Karin saw you on your balcony the first day you arrived. When we went inside, she said, 'Did you see the pretty man, mummy. I think he must be very nice. Can I speak to him?' Nothing I have seen of you so far has done anything but confirm Karin's first opinion of you."

Looking back to my time in the hotel, I felt ashamed of the things I had thought about my relationship with these two. I recalled how when partly drunk I had spoken to Karin harshly. Spoken like that to a dear little girl who wanted to be a friend! In this moment, all my harsh words were for myself.

I sought a way through the net that seemed to be closing over me.

"Angie, if I were to do as you ask and drop in to see Karin, it would only extend the relationship, and that would make it harder for Karin if it had to stop some time in the future. Wouldn't it be better to end it now?

"Why would it end in the future, Peter?"

"Well, you might meet some man that you wanted to be with, and…"

"Oh, for God's sake Peter, look at me. What man wants to enter a relationship with a face like mine?"

She gave a harsh laugh. "Do you imagine I haven't seen how men turn away from me, revolted? Oh yes, when they see only my good profile I can read their thoughts; 'I'd like to get her in bed,' then they see the other side and turn away in shock and horror. Do you know you are one of the few people who did not react to my ugliness? You and Karin are almost the only one's I can expose my face to without feeling humiliated."

She fell silent. I was caught between my sorrow for her and the desire to say, "Get out of my life." I said, "Very well, if you think it's so important for Karin, I'll visit her…"

"No, Peter. Not because I think it's important. Do you think it's important? Is it something you would really like to do? What I want is for there to be a man Karin can relate to. She likes you. In her childlike way, she loves you. I think she chose well."

She had offered me a way out, and faced with it, I could not accept it.

"Of course I'd like to visit Karin, and you as well."

"Thank you, Peter. There is one more favour I have to ask of you. Would you come to visit Karin on her birthday?"

"Certainly."

"The thing is, she wants a spaniel puppy. If I bought it, would you give it to her as if it was from you?"

At this, I became a bit angry. "If I'm going to give her a puppy, I shall do the buying."

"My dear Peter, have you ever bought a pedigree dog?"

"No."

"The price is around (she named a figure that made me blench) and I know that you can't possibly afford that. And while we are on the subject, I have money and you don't. Don't let's make a problem of it."

So began my visits to Karin. At least once a week I would call in to see her, often staying to dinner. We took trips out, sometimes just Karin and I, at other times with Angie as well. It was all fairly low key with me trying to do the father-daughter thing, like telling Karin how pretty she looked – things like that.

I received a name change in the process of the growing relationship with Karin; I became "Holly."

Angie maintained a slightly remote stance toward me. Not unfriendly, but not inviting intimacy or personal questions, such as those I asked on the night that she requested me to visit Karin. It was clear that the love of her life was Karin, and she would do anything to enhance the child's welfare.

Most of the conversation with Angie centred on Karin; her health, how she was getting on at school, where the two of them had been between my visits. I continued to play the "paternal role" as best I could.

Hardly noticing it, my "playing" the role changed gradually to accepting it seriously. It was almost impossible for it to be otherwise with such a dear little child who without artifice frequently proclaimed her love for me. I got to like it very much.

"Familiarity breeds contempt," so the old adage goes. Perhaps it does in many situations, but it also has a positive aspect, it can breed acceptance. Being more and more in each other's presence, Angie gave up any attempt to hide her disfigurement. I, on the other hand, ceased to notice it. I had to make a conscious effort to actually see the scars, and even then, they no longer troubled me.

I told myself that I could now see Angie as a woman with whom I had an association through her child. This was true, but it became more than this.

It was partly the beautiful love and devotion the mother had for the child that began to open to me inner levels of Angie. Intelligence, tenderness, loyalty and strength of character that caused her to hold to a decision or cause with great tenacity, these qualities came through to me increasingly.

The relationship began to impinge on my life in ways that went beyond simply being with them. One night, while in the midst of fucking one of the "campus girls," I found myself repelled by what I was doing. I actually had to excuse myself: "Sorry, I'm not feeling too well, sweetheart," and as soon as possible I sent her on her way.

The truth was, I had been hit with the thought, "What would Angie and Karin think of me?" Damn it, they had become moderators of my behaviour.

I was beginning to think like a father. Would I, for example, want Karin to grow up like the campus girl, screwing with every male or female for that matter, in sight? No I wouldn't. But how could I recommend a pattern of behaviour to Karin that I did not adhere to myself?

In the end, I had to face the fact that I loved these two strange people. They were embedded in my life, and I couldn't picture my future without them.

Christmas approached, and I was invited to spend two days with Angie and Karin. I was to arrive on Christmas Eve, and stay until the day after Christmas Day.

"I've got some people visiting on Christmas Day," Angie said, "My mother and one of my sisters, plus a few friends. You won't mind, will you?"

This would be the first time I had met anyone connected with Angie. She had never spoken of friends or relatives, in fact, I might almost have assumed she lived in a vacuum in this respect. I felt a trifle nervous. Would they think it odd that I had such a close affinity with Karin in particular? Would I be taken to be Angie's boyfriend, lover or paramour? Given Angie's wealth and the slight disparity in our ages (she is five years older than me), would they think I was some "Toy Boy" on the make?

I need not have worried. On my arrival Christmas Eve an excited Karin leaping into my arms, an action that her spaniel tried to emulate, but failed, welcomed me.

"Holly, Holly, isn't Christmas lovely. I do like Christmas, don't you? Come and meet my Nanna."

I was introduced to Mrs.Robbart senior who shook my hand and said, "So you are the wonderful Holly my granddaughter goes so wild about! Thank you, Peter…I can call you Peter? You can call me Heather."

I affirmed that she could call me Peter, and wondered what she was thanking me for.

I was introduced to Angie's sister, Monica, some five or six years younger than Angie, attractive and very serious. She pursued me constantly to engage me in talk about science.

There was just the five of us for the evening, and after I had been shown to my room, we had a pleasant evening chatting round a log fire. Karin was put to bed with little hope she would sleep she was so excited. Around 10 p.m. Monica drifted off the bed, followed by Angie. I was alone with Heather.

"I hoped we might get a little time alone, Peter," she began. "I have something I want to say to you."

"Here it comes," I thought, "The lecture on predatory males."

"I've been swamped with superlatives about you by my granddaughter, and Angie has talked about you from time to time. I think what you have done is rather extraordinary. You have brought a new dimension into their lives…don't worry Peter, I've been warned that you are a friend and nothing more." She laughed gently.

"When Angie's face was burnt so horribly, and then her marriage gradually fell apart, I thought for a while she was going to kill herself. But she's strong, and she had Karin to care for, and that pulled her through. For all that, she was living her life in shadows, afraid to let anyone see her face except those close to her, like me. It was as if she lived her life in solitary confinement."

"I think you can understand that when she was single, and before her accident, she was very lovely and men pursued her all the time. After her accident when she saw men turn away from her…even her husband, it was a terrible blow. I used to think it would have been better if she had been plain to start with, and not had the adulation of men in the first place. She might not have felt it so much."

"Her self-isolation tended to isolate Karin as well, but the little one is too energetic, too much a social creature to be shut in like that. She started, in her trusting way, to latch on to all sorts of people, including men…especially men. I suppose she wanted a father."

"No need to panic, Peter, I'm not casting you as daddy, but you have provided her with a good male contact. You were the first and only man Angie was willing to trust with the little one. You are also the first man Angie has trusted herself with as well. Finding the courage to let you see her as she really is, she has gradually allowed herself to be seen by others. Thank you Peter. Thank you from the bottom of my heart."

I did not know what to say. All the battles I had had within myself over Angie and Karin, all the failed attempts to be rid of them, and finally accepting a place in their lives, had received their undeserved reward. I was both shamed and exulted. I wanted to cry.

Heather could see my emotional condition and said, "Time for bed, I think."

I stood and she came to me, and putting her arms round me, kissed me, and said, "Thank you for giving my dear ones life again."

I saved my tears for when I was in bed.

Before sleeping there came back to me the question I had asked God, nature or the universe at the very beginning:

"Why? Why make something so exquisite, only to mar it?"

Now an answer beat in my head. As an agnostic, I could hardly ascribe it to God, but it hammered repeatedly, demanding to be heard.

"She was marred for you. She was disfigured so you might come to love her for more than her physical beauty."

I slept in peace.

In the morning, after breakfast, there was the exchange of gifts. I had expected that my offerings would appear meager besides there's, and I was therefore surprised at how modest their gifts were. The thought came to me, "Perhaps when love is real, you don't have to prove anything by lavish gifts."

By mid morning Angie's other guests began to arrive, and at midday, we sat down to our Christmas meal. Children had come with the friends, and Karin undertook to introduce me as her "Holly." This gave rise to attempts at singing "The Holly and the Ivy," not altogether successfully, as none of the children could recall all the words.

Late afternoon the gathering began to break up, people going home, or to other parties. Heather and the scientific Monica also departed. Heather gave me a hug and kiss, and said, "I hope we shall meet again soon."

I was left with my "Two Girls."

For a while we sat by the fire recovering from the day, then it was time for Karin to go to bed. An invitation was extended for me to accompany them to Karin's bedroom; an honour never previously bestowed.

I think I was more deeply touched with what ensued, than any other of the scenes I had witnessed between mother and child.

First, there was a short reading from "Wind in the Willows," then gently hugging each other, they talked of the day, what they thought of it, how they had enjoyed it. My agnostic position was challenged when it came time for the prayer, but a lump came in my throat when Karin said, "And take care of Holly, because we love him."

Her arms extended to me, I kissed Karin goodnight saying, Goodnight and God bless you, my lovely." What was I doing talking about God?

Angie and I went back to sit by the fire.

For some minutes we remained silent, then very quietly I asked, "Angie, would you marry me?"

Another silence then, with a quietness echoing mine, "Peter, darling, you want Karin, not me, don't you?"

"I love you both."

"Look at me, Peter. You've grown used to my ugliness, but try to look at me as if for the first time. Do you want to wake up to that face in the morning? Oh, you may say yes now, but for how long could you tolerate living with a badly disfigured wife. Would you want your friends and colleagues to meet me? Would you invite them home to meet your repulsive woman?"

"Stop it, Angie. You are not repulsive and don't you dare say you are. I…"

"I know what I am, Peter."

I had been sitting in an armchair. I rose, went to her, kneeled down and kissed her.

"My love, that was very brave of you. The first man to even think of kissing me since…"

"Will you marry me?"

"No."

"Why not. Don't you love me?"

"Of course I love you, you silly man. I think I knew I loved you when we parted at the hotel. But it's not enough, my darling. I love you enough to refuse you, to not damage your life."