A car was coming towards me but it did not stop. When I asked her why I was silenced in this way, she said, “Because you only have old words to describe me.” This was on my mind when I stepped on to the zebra crossing with its black-and-white stripes at which all vehicles must stop to allow pedestrians to cross the road. I was thinking about how Jennifer Moreau had told me I was never to describe her beauty, not to her, or to anyone else.
Attention! Look to the left and to the right, cross the road and get to the other side. No, she said, I was scared of your envy, which was bigger than your love. No, it’s like this, Jennifer Moreau: I loved you every night and every day, but you were scared of my love and I was scared of my love, too. It’s like this, Saul Adler: when I was 23 I loved the way you touched me, but when the afternoon slipped in and you slipped out of me, you were already looking for someone else. Her plays include Pax, Heresies, Clam, Call Blue Jane, Shiny Nylon, Honey Baby Middle England, Pushing the Prince into Denmark and Macbeth-False Memories. She trained at Dartington College of Arts before becoming a playwright. Levy has been a Booker Prize finalist for Hot Milk and Swimming Home. The following is excerpted from Deborah Levy's novel.
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