15 May

15 May 1920

2 Portland Villas, Hampstead - London

[. . .] She sat down to the mirror. She was pale. The maid combed back her dark hair - combed it all back & her face was like a mask. There was a shadow under her eyes - her lips were dark red - her cheeks[?] very pink. As she stared at herself in the bluish shadowy glass she suddenly felt - oh, the strangest most tremendous excitement filling her slowly, slowly - & she wanted to fling out her arms to laugh, to scatter everything, to cry I'm free, I'm free - I'm free as the wind! And now all this vibrating, trembling, exciting, flying world was hers - it was her Kingdom. No, no, she belonged to nobody but Life.
That will do, Marie, she stammered. My hat. My coat. My bag. And then get me a taxi. Where was she going? Oh, anywhere. She could not stand this silent flat, this noiseless Marie, this ghostly quiet interior. She must be out. She must be driving quickly - anywhere anywhere.
The taxi is there, Madame.
As the big outer door of the flats pressed open the wild wind caught her, floated her across the pavement. Where to? Oh, where. She got in & smiling radiantly at the cross sleepy man she said - To - and then gave him the name of her hairdressers. What would she have done without her hairdresser. Whenever Monica had nowhere else to go to or nothing to do, she drove there. She might just as well have her hair waved & by the time it was done she would have thought out a plan. The first leaves of autumn came flying past the windows. One fell on to her lap. I love autumn. I love autumn she said, lying back in the cab. [. . .]  [KM Notebooks, section dated 1 May 1920.]