by Iris Murdoch
‘Art and love – ’
‘Must both envisage eternal arrangements.’
‘You will write now, won’t you?’
‘I will write now.’
‘I feel complete,’ she said, ‘as if why we had to come together had been somehow explained. And yet the explanation doesn’t matter. We are together. Oh Bradley, I’m yawning!’
‘And my name’s come back!’ I said. ‘Come on. To bed and to sleep.’
‘I don’t think I’ve ever felt so beautifully tired and heavy in my life.’
I led her to bed and she fell asleep in her petticoat as on the first night. I felt wide awake and alert. And as I held her in my arms I knew that I had been right not to go back to London. I had had to stay, for the ordeal. I held her and felt the simple warmth of ordinary domestic tenderness flowing back into my body. I thought about poor Priscilla and how I would share all that pain with Julian on the morrow. On the morrow I would tell her everything, everything, and we would go back to London and face plain tasks and duties and begin the ordinariness of being together.
I was deeply asleep. Some sound was crashing, crashing, crashing into the place where I was. I was a hidden Jew whom the Nazis had found at last. I heard them, like the soldiers in Uccello’s picture, beating their halberds on the door and shouting. I stirred, found Julian still in my arms. It was dark.
‘What is it?’ Her frightened voice woke me into full consciousness and absolute dread.
Someone was banging and banging and banging on the front door.
‘Oh who can it be?’ She was sitting up. I felt her warm darkness beside me, seemed to see light reflected from her eyes.
‘I don’t know,’ I said, sitting up too and putting my arms round her. We clung together.
‘Better keep quiet and not put the light on. Oh Bradley, I’m so frightened.’
‘I’ll look after you.’ I was so frightened myself I could hardly think or speak.
‘Sssh. Perhaps they’ll go away.’
The banging, which had stopped for a moment, was resumed louder than before. Some metal object was being pounded on the panels of the door. There was a sound of splintering wood.
I turned on a lamp and got up. As I did so I actually saw my bare legs trembling. I pulled on my dressing – gown. ‘Stay here. I’ll see. Lock yourself in.’
‘No, no, I’m coming too – ’
‘Stay here.’
‘Don’t open the door, Bradley, don’t – ’
I put the light on in the little hall. The banging stopped at once. I stood in silence before the door, now knowing who was on the other side of it.
I opened the door very quietly and Arnold came, or rather almost fell, in through it.
I turned on the lights in the sitting – room and he followed me in there and put down on the table the large spanner with which he had been beating on the door. He sat down, not looking at me, breathing hard.
I sat down too, covering my bare knees which were shuddering convulsively.
'Is – Julian – here?’ said Arnold, speaking thickly, as if in drunkenness, only he was certainly not drunk.
‘Yes.’
'I’ve come to – take her away – ’
‘She won’t want to go,’ I said. 'How did you find us?’
‘Francis told me. I asked him and asked him and asked him, and he told me. And about the telephone call.’
‘What telephone call?’
‘Don’t pretend,’ said Arnold, looking at me now. 'He told me he telephoned you this morning about Priscilla.’
‘I see.’
‘So you couldn’t – drag yourself away – from your love nest – even though your sister – had killed herself.’
‘I am going to London tomorrow. Julian is coming with me. We are going to be married.’
‘I want to see my daughter. The car is outside. I am going to take her back with me.’
‘No.’
‘Will you call her, please?’
I got up. As I passed by the table I picked up the spanner. I went to the bedroom. The door was closed, not locked, and I went in and locked the door after me.
Julian was dressed. She was wearing one of my jackets over her dress. It reached down to her thighs. She was very pale.
‘Your pa.’
‘Yes. What’s that?’
I threw the spanner down on the bed. ‘A lethal weapon. Not for use. Better come and see him.’
‘You will – ’
‘I’ll protect you. There’s nothing whatever to worry about. We’ll just explain the situation to him and see him off. Come. No, wait a minute. I need some trousers.’ I rapidly put on a shirt and trousers. I saw with surprise that it was only just after midnight.
I went back to the sitting – room and Julian followed. Arnold had got up. We faced him across the table, which was still strewn with the remnants of our supper which we had been too worn out to clear away. I put my arm round Julian’s shoulder.
Arnold had got a grip on himself and had clearly resolved not to shout. He said, ‘My dear girl – ’
‘Hello.’
‘I’ve come to take you home.’
‘This is home,’ said Julian. I squeezed her, and then moved to sit down, leaving them facing each other.
Arnold in a light macintosh, with his exhausted denuded emotional face, looked like some sort of fanatical gunman. His pale, pale eyes stared and his lips were moving as if he were soundlessly stammering. ‘Oh Julian – come away – You can’t stay here with this man – You must have lost your mind – Look, here’s a letter from your mother begging you to come home – I’ll put it here, please read it – How can you be so pitiless and callous, staying here and – I suppose you’ve been – after poor Priscilla – ’
‘What about Priscilla?’ said Julian.
‘So he hasn’t told you?’ said Arnold. He did not look at me. His teeth clicked together and there was a spasm in his face, perhaps the attempt to conceal a glare of triumph or pleasure.
‘What about Priscilla?’
'Priscilla is dead,’ I said. ‘She killed herself yesterday with an overdose.’
'He knew this morning,’ said Arnold. ‘Francis told him by telephone.’
‘That’s correct,’ I said. ‘When I told you I was going to the garage I went to telephone Francis and he told me.’
‘And you didn’t tell me? You hid it – and then we – all the afternoon we were – ’
‘Ach – ’ said Arnold.
Julian ignored him, staring at me and drawing my jacket closer about her, its collar turned up enclosing her tousled hair, her hands crossed at the neck. ‘Why?’
I rose. ‘It’s hard to explain,’ I said, ‘but please try to understand. There was nothing more I could do for Priscilla. And for you – I had to stay – and bear the burden of being silent. It wasn’t callousness,’
‘Lust might be its name,’ said Arnold.
‘Oh Bradley – Priscilla is dead – ’
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘but there’s nothing more I can do about it now, and – ’
Tears overflowed Julian’s eyes and dropped down on to the lapels of my jacket. ‘Oh Bradley – how could you – how could we – oh poor, poor Priscilla – what a terrible thing – ’
‘He is irresponsible,’ said Arnold. ‘Or else he’s a bit mad. He’s totally callous. His sister dies and he won’t leave his love – making.’
‘Oh Bradley – poor Priscilla – ’
‘Julian, I was going to tell you tomorrow. I was going to tell you everything tomorrow. I had to stay today. You saw how it was. We were both possessed, we were held here, we couldn’t have gone, it had to happen as it did.’
‘He’s mad.’
‘Tomorrow we’ll go back to ordinary things, tomorrow we’ll think about Priscilla and I’ll tell you all about it and how much I am to blame – ’
‘It was my fault,’ said Julian, ‘it was because of me. Otherwise you would have been with her.’
‘A convenient justification,’ said Arnold. ‘So you think Priscilla is better off dead, do you?’
‘No. I’m just saying it – at least could be thought about like that – I don’t want Julian to feel that – Oh Julian, I ought to have told you.’
‘Yes – It’s – I feel a sort of doom on us – Oh Bradley, why didn’t you say – ?’
‘Sometimes one has to be silent even if it hurts awfully. I wanted your consolation, of course I did. But something else was more important.’
‘The sexual gratification of an elderly man,’ said Arnold. ‘Think, Julian, think. He is thirty – eight years older than you are.’
‘No, he isn’t,’ said Julian. ‘He’s forty – six, and that’s – ’
Arnold gave a sort of laugh and there was the same spasm in his face. ‘He told you that, did he? He’s fifty – eight. Ask him.’
‘He can’t be – ’
‘Look him up in Who’s Who.’
‘I’m not in Who’s Who.’
‘Bradley, how old are you?’
‘Fifty – eight.’
‘When you are thirty he will be nearly seventy,’ said Arnold. ‘Come on. Surely this is enough. We’ve kept this quiet and there’s no need for shouting. I see Bradley even removed the blunt instrument. Let’s go, Julian. You can have your cry in the car. Then you’ll start feeling what an escape you’ve had. Come. He won’t try to stop you now. Look at him.’
Julian was looking at me. I covered my face.
‘Bradley, take your hands away. Please. Are you really fifty – eight ?’
‘Yes.’
‘Can’t you see he is? Can’t you see he is?’
She murmured, ‘Yes – now – ’
‘Does it matter?’ I said. ‘You said you didn’t mind what age I was.’
‘Oh don’t be pathetic,’ said Arnold. ‘Let’s all keep our dignity. Come, Julian, please. Bradley, don’t think I’m being unkind. I’m doing what any father would do.’
‘Quite,’ I said, ‘quite.’
Julian said, ‘I can’t bear it, about Priscilla, I can’t bear it, I can’t bear it – ’
‘Steady,’ said Arnold. ‘Steady. Come now.’
I said, ‘Julian, don’t go. You can’t just go like that. I want to explain things to you properly and alone. All right, if you now feel differently about me, that’s that. I’ll drive you anywhere you want and we’ll say good – bye. But I beg you not to leave me now. I ask you in the name of – in the name of – ’
‘I forbid you to stay,’ said Arnold. ‘I regard this relationship as a defilement. I’m sorry to use such strong language. I have been very upset and very angry and I am trying hard to be reasonable and to be kind. Do just see this thing objectively. I cannot and I will not go away without you.’
‘I want to explain to you,’ I said. ‘J want to explain about Priscilla.’
‘How can you – ?’ she said. ‘Oh dear – oh dear – ’ She was crying now helplessly, with trembling wet lips.
I felt agony, physical pain, total terror. ‘Don’t leave me, my darling, I should die.’ I went to her and reached out towards her, touching the sleeve of my jacket timidly.
Arnold promptly moved round the table and took her other arm and propelled her out into the hall. I followed. I saw through the open bedroom door the heavy spanner lying on the white sheets of the bed, and with a dart I picked it up. I stood barring the front door.
‘Julian, I can’t let you go now, I’d go mad, please don’t go – you must stay with me long enough to let me defend myself – ’
‘You are indefensible,’ said Arnold. ‘Why argue? Can’t you see it’s over? You have had a caper with a silly girl and now it’s over. The spell is broken. And give me that spanner. I don’t like to see you holding it.’
I gave him the spanner, but I did not move from the door. I said, ‘Julian, decide.’
Julian, making an effort with her tears, pulled herself quickly but firmly away from her father’s grip. ‘I’m not going with you. I’m going to stay here with Bradley.’
‘Oh thank God,’ I said, ‘thank God.’
‘I want to hear what Bradley has to say. I’ll come back to London tomorrow. But I’m not going to leave Bradley alone in the middle of the night.’
‘Thank God.’
‘You’re coming with me,’ said Arnold.
‘No, she isn’t. She’s said what she wants to do. Now please go away. Arnold, think. Do you want us to fight about this? Do you want to crack my head with that spanner? I promise I’ll bring Julian to London tomorrow. Nobody shall force her, nobody can force her, she’ll do what she wants to do, I’m not trying to kidnap her.’
‘Please go,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry. You’ve been kind and – quiet, but I must just stay here tonight. I promise I’ll come to you and listen to everything you want to say. But please be merciful and leave me now to talk to him. We’ve got to talk, do understand. You can’t really do or undo anything here.’
‘She’s right,’ I said.
Arnold did not look at me. He looked at his daughter with a very concentrated desolate stare. He gave a sort of gasping sigh. ‘Do you promise to come home tomorrow?’
‘I’ll come and see you tomorrow.’
‘Do you promise to come home?’
‘Yes.’
‘And don’t – any more tonight – oh hell – you can’t think or imagine what you’ve done to me – ’
I moved from the door and Arnold marched out into the darkness. I turned on the light in the porch. It was like seeing a guest off. Julian and I stood like husband and wife and watched Arnold get into his car. There was a clang as he threw the spanner into the back. The sudden headlights showed the gravel covered with etiolated flowering weeds, the ragged bright green grass, and a line of white fencing posts. Then the lights swung abruptly round, revealed the open gate, and receded down the track. I pulled Julian back inside, shut the door, and fell on my knees at her feet, embracing her legs and pressing my head against the hem of the blue dress.
She suffered this embrace for a moment, then gently freed herself and went into the bedroom and sat down on the bed. I followed and tried to put my arms around her, but she thrust me away with little gentle half – unconscious gestures.
‘Oh Julian, we haven’t lost each other, have we? I am so deeply sorry I lied about my age, it was stupid. But it doesn’t really matter, does it? I mean, we’re beyond where it matters, it can’t matter. And I couldn’t go back to London this morning. I know it was a crime not to. But it was a crime that I committed because I love you.’
‘I feel so confused,’ she said, ‘I feel so awfully confirsed – ’
‘Let me explain how – ’
‘Please. I can’t hear, I just wouldn’t be able to hear – Everything’s been such a shock – likea – destruction – I’d rather – I think I’ll just go to the lavatory and then I’ll try to go to sleep.’ She went away, returned, and took off her dress and put on her dark blue silk night shirt over her underclothes. She seemed already like a sleep – walker.
‘Julian, thank you for staying. I worship you with gratitude for having stayed. Julian, you will be kind to me, won’t you. You could break my neck with your little finger.’
She began to get heavily into the bed, moving stiffly, like an old person.
‘That’s right,’ I said. ‘We’ll talk in the morning, won’t we. We’ll sleep now. If we can just go to sleep in each other’s arms we’ll be so much helped, won’t we.’
She looked at me sombrely, the tears dry on her face.
‘May I stay, Julian?’
‘Bradley – darling – I’d rather be by myself just now. I feel as if I’d been invaded or – broken – I’ve got to become complete again and for that – it’s better to be alone – just now.’
‘
All right. I understand, my dear love and my sweetheart. I won’t – we’ll talk in the morning. Only say you forgive me.’
‘Yes, yes.’
‘Good night, my darling.’
I kissed her on the brow and then quickly got up and turned the light out and closed the door. Then I went and locked and bolted the front door. Everything seemed possible tonight, even the return of Arnold with the spanner. I sat in an armchair in the sitting – room and wished I had brought some whisky with me. I resolved to stay awake for the rest of the night.
I felt so hurt and frightened that it was very hard to think at all. I felt like simply doubling up over my pain and groaning. What did it look like to her, what would it do to her, my being so exposed and humiliated by her father? Arnold did not need to beat me to my knees with a blunt instrument. He had quite sufficiently defeated me. What did that failure about Priscilla mean? Oh if only I had been given the time to tell her all myself. Would Julian suddenly see me quite differently? Would I look to her like an old man crazed with lust ? I must explain that it was not just because I wanted to go to bed that I concealed Priscilla’s suicide, that I abandoned Priscilla, that I left her, alive and dead, to others. It was because these things were greater than themselves, because there was a sort of dedication, a sort of visitation, something else to which I had to be absolutely faithful. Would this seem nonsense to her now? Would, and this I am afraid was the most tormenting thought of all, the difference between forty – six and fifty – eight prove to be fatal ?
Later on I started thinking about Priscilla and the sheer sadness of it all and the pitifulness of her end. The shocking fact of her death seemed only now to be reaching my heart, and I felt futile ingenuous love for her. I ought to have thought about how to console her. It would not have been impossible. I began to feel sleepy and got up and prowled around. I opened the bedroom door and listened to Julian’s steady breathing and prayed. I went into the bathroom and looked at my face in the mirror. The godly radiance had withdrawn from my face. My eyes were hooded by wrinkles, my brow was scored, little blood – red worms crawled in the dull sallow skin, I looked gaunt and old. But Julian was sleeping quietly and all my hope slept with her. I returned to my sitting – room armchair and put my head back and instantly fell asleep. I dreamed that Priscilla and I were young again, hiding under the counter in the shop.
