Baglady

by A. S. Byatt

.
A. S. Byatt, born in Sheffield in 1936, was educated at \'vrk
and at Newham College, Cambridge. She taught at the Central
School of Art and Design and was Senior Lecturer in English
and American Literature at University College, London, before 1
returning to full-time writing in 1983. A distinguished critic as
well as novelist, she was appointed CBE in 1990, and her novel,
Possession, won the Booker Prize. The short story, Baglady,
was published in the collection, Elementals ( 1998).

'And then', says Lady Scroop brightly, 'the Company will send cars prezzies presents (gaver)
to take us all to the Good Fortune Shopping Mall. l understand that indulgence selvforkaelelse
it is a real Alladin 's Cave of Treasures, where we can all find prez- surveillance overv~oning
zies for everyone and all sorts of little indulgences for ourselves, peach-coloured . ~n-
and in perfect safety: the entrances to the Mall are under constant gul
surveillance, sad, but necessary in these difficult days.' cutlery bestik
Daphne Gulver-Robinson looks round the breakfast table. It is emit udsende
beautifully laid with peach-coloured damask, bronze cutlery, and encourage opmuntre,
little floating gardens in lacquered dishes of waxy flowers that tilskynde
emit gusts of perfume. The directors of Doolittle Wind Quietus exquisitely udsogt, meget
are in a meeting. Their wives are breakfasting together under the fin
eye oflady Scroop, the chairman's wife. It is Lord Scroop's policy mutedly afdaempet
to encourage his directors to travel with their wives. Especially in swap bytte
the Far East, and especially since the figures about Aids began to recipe opskrift
be drawn to his attention. amber ravgul
Most of the wives are elegant, with silk suits and silky legs dimpling om havet =
and exquisitely cut hair. They chat mutedly, swapping recipes for kruset
chutney and horror stories about nannies, staring out of the amber dowdy konet
glass wall of the Precious Jade Hotel at the dimpling sea. Daphne jaunt forn0jelsestur
Gulver-Robinson is older than most ofthem, and dowdier, although seated tweed twer •-.,,j
her husband, Rollo, has less power than most of the other directors. med folder hvor m;. ..r
She has tried to make herself attractive for this jaunt and has lost siddet
ten pounds and had her hands manicured; but now she sees the fantail p:ifugl
other ladies, she knows it is not enough. Her style is seated tweed,
and stout shoes, and bird's-nest hair.
'You don't want me on this trip,' she said to Rollo when told
about it. 'I'd better stay and mind the donkeys and the geese and
the fantails as usual, and you can have a good time, as usual, in
those exotic places.'
he gets bees in the bon- ·of course I don't want you,' said Rollo. 'That is, of course I
net han bliver stiktosset want you, but I do know you're happier with the geese and the
schedule plan, program donkeys and pigs and things. But Scroop will think it's very odd,
adjustments sma zn- / 'm very odd, if you don't come. He gets bees in his bonnet. You'll
dringer like the shopping; the ladies do a lot of shopping, I believe. You
sharp przcis might like the other wives,' he finished, not hopefully.
swoop komme fejende 'I didn't like boarding-school,' Daphne said.
snug hyggelig 'I don't see what that has to do with it,' Rollo said. There is a lot
fountain springvand Rollo doesn't see. Doesn't want to see and doesn't see.
army barracks kaserne Lady Scroop tells them they may scatter in the Mall as much as
malevolently ondskabs- they like as long as they are all back at the front entrance at noon
fuldt precisely. 'We have all packed our bags, I hope,' she says, 'though
synchronise stille pa I have left time on the schedule for adjustments to make space for
samme tid any goodies we may find. And then there will be a delicious lunch
flotsam and jetsam at the Pink Pearl Cafe and then we leave at two-forty-five sharp
vraggods for the airport and on to Sydney.'
cowdung kogodning The ladies pack into the cars. Daphne Gulver-Robinson is next
rendezvous modetids- to the driver of her Daimler, a place of both comfort and isolation.
punkt They swoop silently through crowded streets, isolated by bullet-
shimmer flimre proof glass from the smells and sounds of the Orient. The Mall is
mop and mow lave enormous and not beautiful. Some of the ladies have been in post-
grimasser modern pink and peppermint Malls in San Diego, some have been
gape mabe, glo med aben in snug, glittering underground tunnels in Canadian winters, some
mund have shopped in crystal palaces in desert landscapes, with tinkling
dangle hznge og dingle fountains and splashing streams. The Good Fortune Shopping Mall
rectangular arm fir- resembles an army barracks or a prison block, but is not for the
kantet floj outside they have come, and they hasten to trip inside, like hens
looking for worms,jerking and clucking, Daphne Gulver-Robinson
thinks malevolently, as none of them waits for her.
She synchronises her watch with the driver, and goes in alone,
between the sleepy soldiers with machine-guns and the uniformed
police with their revolvers and little sticks. Further away, along
the walls of the Mall, are little groups and gangs of human flot-
sam and jetsam, gathered with bags and bottles around little fires
of cowdung or cardboard. There is a no-man 's-Iand, swept clean,
between them and the police.
She is not sure she likes shopping. She looks at her watch, and
wonders how she will fill the two hours before the rendezvous.
She walks rather quickly past rows of square shop-fronts, glitter-
ing with gilt and silver, shining with pearls and opals, shimmering
with lacquer and silk. Puppets and shadow-puppets mop and mow,
paper birds hop on threads, paper dragons and monstrous goldfish
gape and dangle. She covers the first floor, or one rectangular arm

10
of the first floor, ascends a flight of stairs and finds herself on an- ascend ga op ad
other floor, more or less the same, except for a few windows full night of stairs trapi-,~
of sober suiting, a run ofAmerican-style T-shirts, an area of bonsai sober suiting nobelt
trees. She stops to look at the trees, remembering her garden, and habitstof
thinks of buying a particularly shapely cherry. But how could it go run kollektion
to Sydney, how return to Norfolk, would it even pass customs? display udscilling
She has slowed down now and starts looking. She comes to a cushion-cover pudebe-
corner, gets into a lift, goes up, gets out, finds herself on a higher, trzk
sunnier, emptier floor. There are fewer shoppers. She walks along crane crane
one whole 'street' where she is the only shopper, and is taken by a blue-tit blimejse
display of embroidered silk cushion-covers. She goes in, and turns rarity sjzldenhed
over a heap of about a hundred, quick, quick, chrysanthemums, jade jade (halvzdelscen)
cranes, peach-blossom, blue-tits, mountain tops. She buys a cover restore genoprette, »I.eg-
with a circle of embroidered fish, red and gold and copper, because ger ny make-up«
it is the only one ofits kind, perhaps a rarity. When she looks in her blowzy ophedet
shopping bag, she cannot find her camera, although she is sure it frequency hyppighed
was there when she set out. She buys a jade egg on the next floor, debouch in munde ud i
and some lacquered chopsticks, and a mask with a white furious boxed sammenpres
face for her student daughter. She is annoyed to see a whole window deliberate med over1zg/
full of the rare fishes, better embroidered than the one in the bag. vilje
She follows a sign saying CAFE but cannot find the cafe, though elusive vanskelig at finde
she trots on, faster now. She does find a ladies' room, with cells so trot crave
small they are hard to squeeze into. She restores her make-up there: concrete beton
she looks hot and blowzy. Her lipstick has bled into the soft skin hobble humpe
round her mouth. Hairpins have sprung out. Her nose and eyelids vanish forsvinde
shine. She looks at her watch, and thinks she should be making her dislodge fierne fra sin
way back to the entrance. Time has passed at surprising speed. s.edvanlige plads
Signs saying EXIT appear with great frequency and lead to retrieve samle op
fire-escape-like stairways and lifts, which debouch only in identi-
cal streets of boxed shop-fronts. They are designed, she begins to
think, to keep you inside, to direct you past even more shops, in
search of a hidden, deliberately elusive way out. She runs a lit-
tle, trotting quicker, toiling up concrete stairways, clutching her
shopping. On one of these stairways a heel breaks off one of her
smart shoes. After a moment she takes off both, and puts them in
her shopping bag. She hobbles on, on the concrete, sweating and
panting. She dare not look at her watch, and then does. The time
of the rendezvous is well past. She thinks she might call the hotel,
opens her handbag, and finds that her purse and credit cards have
mysteriously disappeared.
There is nowhere to sit down: she stands in the Mall, going
through and through her handbag, long after it is clear that the things
have vanished. Other things, dislodged, have to be retrieved from

11
wedding anniversary the dusty ground. Her fountain-pen has gone too, Rollo's present
bryllupsdag for their twentieth wedding anniversary. She begins to run quite
flaking skin hud der fast, so that huge holes spread in the soles of her stockings, which
skaller af in the end split, and begin to work their way over her feet and up
bladder bla:re her legs in wrinkles like flaking skin. She looks at her watch; the
extend str.!!kke sig packing-time and the 'delicious lunch' are over: it is almost time
excavate udgrave for the airport car. Her bladder is bursting, but she must go on, and
cavern hule must go down, the entrance is down.
stairwell trappeskakt It is this way that she discovers that the Good Fortune Mall ex-
take time out holde tends maybe as far into the earth as into the sky, excavated identical
pause caverns of shop-fronts, jade, gold, silver, silk, lacquer, watches,
whirl hvirvelstrc.,,m suiting, bonsai trees and masks and puppets. Lifts that say they are
utter ycre going down go only up. Stairwells are windowless: ground level
moan st0nne, jamre (sig) cannot be found. The plane has now taken off with or without the
propriety s0mmelighed directors and ladies of Doolittle Wind Quietus. She takes time
reinforced fors~rket out in another concrete and stainless-steel lavatory cubicle, and
unkempt usoigneret then looks at the watch, whose face has become a whirl of terror.
tattered sjusket Only now it is merely a compressed circle of pink skin, shiny with
battery-hen burh0ne sweat. Her watch, too, has gone. She utters faint little moaning
prod prikke til sounds, and then an experimental scream. No one appears to hear
or see her, neither strolling shoppers, deafened by Walkmans or
by propriety, or by fear of the strange, nor shopkeepers, watchful
in their cells.
Nevertheless, screaming helps. She screams again, and then
screams and screams into the thick, bustling silence. A man in a
brown overall brings a policeman in a reinforced hat, with a gun
and a stick.
'Help me,' says Daphne. 'l am an English lady, I have been
robbed, I must get home.'
'Papers,' says the policeman.
She looks in the back pocket of her handbag. Her passport, too,
has gone. There is nothing. 'Stolen. All stolen,' she says.
'People like you,' says the policeman, 'not allowed in here.'
She sees herself with his eyes, a baglady, dirty, unkempt, with a
bag full of somebody's shopping, a tattered battery-hen.
'My husband will come and look for me,' she tells the police-
man.
If she waits, if she stays in the Mall, he will, she thinks. He
must. She sees herself sitting with the flotsam and jetsam beyond
the swept no-man's-land, outside.
'I'm not moving,' she says, and sits down heavily. She has to
stay in the Mall. The policeman prods her with his little stick.
'Move, please.'

It is more comfortable sitting down.

·[ shall stay here for ever if necessary,' she says. . . .
She cannot imagine anyone coming. She cannot 1magme gettmg
out of the Good Fortune Mall.

Translation
I A. S. Byatt's novelle »Posedame« ervi i fjem0sten med et selskab
afbritiske overklasse-k.vinder. De er pa rejse med deres regtemrend,
som er ledere i et start firma. Hvad skal de lave, mens deres mrend
er til forretningsm0der? Der er et srerligt program for dem, ?g de
bliver sat af ved et start indk0bscenter uden for storbyen. Sa ~an
de more sig der. Men Daphne ved ikke rigtigt hvad hun skal st11le
op med sig selv.