by Iris Murdoch
He said, ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean this. Don’t let’s fight. I want to talk to you.’
The other said, ‘Get out, Jackson. I could kill you, you know.’
Jackson thought, I must keep him talking, I’ve got to give him some sort of signal, I ought to have done that at the beginning!
He said again, ‘I’m so sorry, forgive me. It’s strange that I don’t even know your name. All I know is that you went riding with her -’ His body was hurting somewhere, he looked round for a chair.
The man moved back behind his desk. He sat down, putting his hand up to his throat. ‘Are you her husband?’
Jackson found a chair against the wall and sat on it. He thought, we are now in a different game. How am I to play it?
‘No, I’m not, I’m just a servant, a messenger. She isn’t married to anybody -’
‘What’s the man like she was going to marry? Has she run back to him?’
‘No, she hasn’t. Look I’m sorry, I’m just making confusion around here - ’
‘You know, I helped her write a note saying she didn’t want to marry him. I took it down the motorway at night by car while she was asleep.’
So that was what happened, thought Jackson. Anyway I must go. He stood up.
‘Don’t go,’ said the man. ‘Just sit down.’
Jackson sat down with half his eye on the door.
‘Listen,’ said the man, ‘I don’t know what sort of fellow you are. I’ve just been in hell. You said you were a messenger — ’
‘Did I? Well, yes -’
‘Would you take a message to her from me? My name is Cantor.’
Jackson had seen all this coming in the last few seconds. He felt sorry for the man, but rather dazed by the situation he had got himself into. He said, ‘What sort of message?’
‘That I love her and want her to forgive me and marry me.’
Jackson said, he had now already thought this out, ‘Give me the message. I shall do what I can.’ Cantor had opened a drawer in the table and was hastily writing. He put the paper into an unsealed envelope and passed it to Jackson. They stared at each other. Jackson rose again, put the envelope in his pocket and turned towards the door. Suddenly Cantor rose and moved around the table. Jackson stopped. Cantor strode towards him. Then reaching out he thrust something else into Jackson’s hand. Jackson glanced down and saw that it was a hundred pound note. He stared at it. He smiled, dropping it upon the floor, then sidled out of the door, closing it after him. As he hurried down the stairs he heard no sound behind him.
Tuan had not imagined that after spending part of the night talking to Jackson, he would be quite unable to go to sleep. In fact after Jackson had left, Tuan walked about the flat softly, in bedroom slippers, excited, upset, sometimes pausing, gasping, ready to cry. He had carefully checked all the windows, already closely secured against burglars, and locked and bolted the front door and placed the key in a pocket of his jacket. How perfectly extraordinary, unimaginable, unforeseen, to have suddenly both the Berran girls under his roof, and under his protection! He had to stop and breathe deeply. Of course he had known them through Uncle Tim and then through Benet, but he had never been, or expected to be, really close to them. He had even at times felt closer to their mother, who had occasionally turned up, and had made a special game of teasing Tuan! He did not mind her teasing, which made him feel older. Now what was he to do? He wished he could have kept Jackson. One thing was certain, he had done right in summoning Rosalind. Rosalind had commonsense and could carry responsibility. He would in some way be able to ‘hand Marian over’ to her sister. She had already begun to calm Marian down, and had even brought sleeping pills for Marian to take. But why should Marian come to me, he wondered - perhaps indeed she would hot want to go to Benet - but would she not have been better running to Mildred, or Elizabeth, or some girlfriend or friends unknown, somewhere else in London, who would shield her? Why me? He felt perturbed, but also a little proud. Yet what was he being proud of? He thought, she has come to me because I am a sort of nobody, a strange half-and-half being, without any strong or terrible emotions - like a fawn who finds a sleeping princess in a forest. It was all chaos, accident - would she stay with him, perhaps for a long time? But how could he and Rosalind go on deceiving the others, who would continue to be so intensely anxious? Softly treading, at last Tuan began to turn off the lights in the drawing room. He took off his jacket. A soft light shone in the corridor, and the doors of the two rooms where the girls were sleeping were slightly ajar, separated from his own larger bedroom. He peered round the door, slightly moving it, into the first room, where Marian was. He could not see her, only a bundle of bed-clothes pulled over her head. She was asleep. He moved to the next door, which was a little more open. Rosalind was lying half undressed upon her bed, she had evidently been too tired to get herself into bed. One long leg was showing, one distraught arm stretched out across the pillow, her head thrown back, her soft golden hair spread upon the pillow. He heard her soft breathing. He moved quickly back. He thought, I’ll just rest on my bed for a while, I’ll be sentinel. He was wakened in the morning light by Rosalind’s terrible cry.
They ran about the flat helplessly, calling out, as if they could find her somewhere, under a blanket or a shawl. How on earth had she got out? They went to the front door intending, equally helplessly, to run about in the road. The front door was locked. Tuan picked up his jacket looking for his key which he had put as usual into his pocket. It was not there! Marian must have found it during the night and left, carrying her belongings with her, locking the door from the outside and keeping the key. They were locked in! Of course they were not really locked in since Tuan had another key, except that he could not find it! After some search he located it and they went out into the street, into the sunshine, people hurrying about - what could be done? They hurried back inside. Then Tuan rang Jackson’s number, in the Lodge. No answer. He continued to ring at intervals. No answer. If Marian had gone to any of the others they would hear the news soon enough. Tuan had nothing to do but wait and curse himself.
Benet, having ascertained from Clun that Edward Lannion was now in residence at Hatting Hall, decided he would go there and confront Edward. He was not quite sure what such a confrontation would achieve, or even contain, but he felt he must now see Edward face to face and discuss the whole situation. It was now as if he were blaming Edward for the situation - but of course he was not. He just wanted something from him, perhaps just comfort of some sort - though of course it was for him to comfort Edward. His heart yearned toward Edward, who must be suffering some unspeakable tragic horror. Benet’s present unhappiness was also connected with Jackson. Some of his friends, especially Anna, had begun to ‘borrow’ Jackson, whose various talents were indeed remarkable - and Benet had agreed. But now, of late, it was all too much, Jackson was, it seemed, becoming too casual and perfunctory about when he might absent himself. All this thoroughly annoyed Benet; but it also hurt him in some deeper sadder way.
He was now extremely, even frenziedly, anxious to see Edward again. Perhaps Edward was mad, perhaps he was considering suicide? At first Benet had intended to drive round, but then decided to walk. Now the memory came to him with greater force - was it possible that Rosalind was madly in love with Edward? Of course it was possible. And Edward? Another wilder but suddenly, also vividly conceivable, possibility was that Marian had now actually taken refuge with Edward, and was hiding in Hatting Hall, where perhaps Rosalind was visiting her? Was she there now, ashamed, not yet ready to emerge and announce that she was ready to marry him? Would Edward have forgiven her? Yes, it was possible that Marian had now returned to Edward and was living with him in secret.
Benet set off down the drive and then down the path to the road. The sun was shining, it was a sunny morning, puffy white clouds coming and going. He crossed the road, climbed over the stile, hurried down the path and reached the bridge. Here he paused and took off his jacket. The bridge swayed and creak
ed. He thought, I must speak to Edward about this bridge. At least the village children don’t dance on it anymore. He looked down at the swirling waters of the Lip which were tugging at the stems of the tall reeds. Onward onward onward forever. Dazed, then getting his eyes into focus, he could see the trembling alders beside the water, and up the bank the masses of wild summer plants in flower, some coming, some going, willow-herb, foxglove, marjoram, meadow-sweet, ragged robin, every year, every century, every millennium, and further up the bank, coltsfoot, stitchwort, campion, scarlet pimpernel, forget-me-not, every year, every year, so beautiful, so beautiful. He stood spellbound, almost tearful; and so much evil, so much evil. He left the hollow tilting planks on the bridge and pressed his way upward upon the almost invisible pathway through the thick dry grasses of the still unshorn meadow. He reached the chained-up gate and climbed over it into the next wild but roughly scythed field not far from the top of the hill. He blinked into the sunshine. Some movement was made among the shaded trees, some large brown thing, oh yes, the horse, now slowly moving towards him. Benet stood still, letting the horse approach him - he stroked the huge head and face which was so gently being thrust towards him, he drew his hand down over the damp nose and caressed the sleek side, he felt the warmth of the terrible loneliness of the great beast, as he lowered his brow against it. He detached himself quietly and hurried forward toward the trees where, as the crest began to flatten, he could see a hedgerow and another gate. He went on, now breathlessly, still not achieving the top and the great view down. Now suddenly, resting, he could see below him, Hatting now well in sight, its great tall windows gleaming, its turrets and battlemented roof warm and red in the sunshine. He strode down now over shorter grass and then, now upon the level, to the final gate and the tarmac road. He crossed the road onto the mown path which led to the open gates and began to hurry, now running upon gravel, past the huge mulberry trees and up the steps to the doorway. He tried the door, which did not open, then rang the jangling bell.
Millie opened the door, smiling when she saw Benet. Edward, emerging behind her, took charge, saying ‘Oh, it’s you!’ then, ‘I’ve been in the billiard room.’ He then turned his back on Benet and crossed the hall returning to the billiard room. The room was huge, receiving a slant of sunlight. Edward went to one end of the table, leaning forward upon it on his elbows, then straightening up. He picked up a billiard cue, then put it down balancing it awkwardly. It fell to the floor with a clatter. He said, ‘I was playing against myself. Well, I suppose one always does that. I mean, trying to - Let’s sit down. Not in the sun.’ He sat down on a velvet-cushioned chair against the wall. Benet approached and sat upon a similar chair, pulling it away from the wall so as to survey Edward. Edward was gazing at the floor, frowning intently, as if tracing something, his mouth open, his eyes wide as if startled, with one hand drawing back a lock of his dark golden brown hair, tugging it, then letting it go, then seizing it again. He seemed to have forgotten Benet.
Benet said, ‘I hope you don’t mind my coming.’
‘Oh? Not at all - not - at all. But there’s nothing there. I shall be going away soon.’
‘Where to?’ said Benet cautiously, almost murmuring. ‘So you are selling the place?’
Edward did not answer this question. Then he said, ‘I’ve just muffed every shot - right from the start - I ought to have - now it’s all impossible - I’ve just got to go away - ’
Benet then said, ‘I suppose you don’t know where Marian is? I just wonder if - perhaps she’ll come back to you?’ He immediately regretted this remark.
Edward did not seem surprised. He said ‘Oh no - that’s over - and I’m - relieved, you know - now it’s - nobody - ’
‘If you mean nobody loves you you are quite wrong! Rosalind loves you - you know she does - we all love you, Owen, Mildred, Anna - ’
Edward murmured, still staring at the floor, ‘Oh no - no - no —’ He shuddered. ‘How kind of her. But there’s - nothing - nothing - nothing— ’
‘I came over the hill just now,’ said Benet. ‘I met the horse.’ He had begun to feel that Edward was falling asleep.
This slightly animated Edward. ‘Yes. He’s the only horse left. His name is Spencer. He’s old, old. It’s amazing that he’s still alive.’
Benet said, ‘He is lonely, he wants love.’
‘Yes, yes. I’m going soon, you know - everything will go.’
‘Oh Edward,’ said Benet, ‘don’t, don’t - you don’t mean that you are going to sell Hatting? Of course you don’t - all this will pass - you must stay with us, you are ours, we won’t let you go!’
Edward stood up and resumed his pose beside the billiard table. Benet rose too. He thought, I too have muffed it! He moved forward, looking at the balls. He said, ‘Do you remember how we used to play “Freda”, running round and round this table, you and me and Uncle Tim and the children — ’ He checked himself hastily.
Edward picked up one of the balls and threw it violently against another ball which in turn propelled two more balls. He stood watching with a frown. ‘Yes - we ran and ran - and ran - I’ll run you back to Penn. I imagine you don’t want to walk back.’
‘That wooden bridge is getting rickety,’ said Benet. He added, ‘Yes, thank you. I’m going back to London today, maybe tomorrow.’
It was nearly midday and Tuan and Rosalind had not yet been able to contact Jackson and give him the dreadful news that Marian had gone. They kept trying to imagine that suddenly she would run back. They told each other that at least she knew where there was a safe haven. Rosalind, supposed to be going back to her flat, wanted very much to stay with Tuan, although he regularly told her to go.
‘Rosalind, do go back to your flat! Marian might be trying to get in there - I mean -’
‘She won’t go back to my flat, it’s too public. And anyway - ’
‘Oh God, if only I hadn’t fallen asleep -’
‘It’s time to try Jackson again.’
Tuan tried Jackson’s number but there was no answer.
‘She might have gone anywhere. Do you think we ought to raise a general alarm?’
‘Not yet.’
‘She must be terrified. She wouldn’t go to Owen or Mildred, certainly not to Anna. She’d be ashamed.’
‘She’s ashamed here. It’s my fault -’
‘Or my fault. Oh Tuan - what can we do? Jackson should have stayed, we should have kept him here. All the same he is a strange man — ’
‘He is Jackson,’ said Tuan. ‘You think he’s mysterious and needs some profound explanation?’
‘Yes. Perhaps he’s on the run from somebody or something.’
‘Yet we are trusting him now.’
‘You had a long talk with him last night. Do you often have long talks with him?’
‘No, never alone, just a few words at Penn and Tara — have felt then - a sort of electricity - as of a strange animal, a good tame animal.’
‘I know, I love him too, I love you.’
‘You had better go,’ said Tuan, ‘you must go. We must wait. I here, and you there.’
They were sitting side by side upon the sofa.
Rosalind said, ‘I want to know more of you - if you don’t mind -’
‘There is nothing to tell.’ He began to move away.
Rosalind took hold of his right hand and held it. She said, ‘You are a mystery, but don’t be! I love you, please love me — ’
Tuan gently removed his hand. ‘Dear Rosalind, please go - what matters is Marian.’
‘Oh Tuan - you are engaged, you have someone else - oh my heart breaks, I love you so much -’
‘I have no one - ’
‘But you want a man?’
‘No, no, just - you don’t know me -’
‘You have darkness in you - let me send it away — ’
‘You want some one, but it’s certainly not me - I have nothing to give you, you must think about Marian, not about me. Don’t you understand? Now will you pl
ease go back to your flat, dear Rosalind?’
‘But I want to stay with you, I want to know you, I do know you, I want to please you - oh my dear, just let me love you — ’
Tuan shook his head. He went again to the telephone. No answer. He found Rosalind’s coat and gave it to her. She rose. She went to the door, he opened it and she stumbled out.
When Jackson had reached Tara after his visit to Cantor he again looked first at the garage. Benet’s car was still not there. He then entered the house. It was entirely silent. There were two or three letters in the hall, one he saw from Anna. He felt that he was losing his grip on time, perhaps on everything. He was extremely tired but must keep his wits about him. He paused. Ought he not now to go out shopping, in case Benet were to arrive? Or should he try a dodge which he despised, telephone Penn, wait for Benet’s voice, then put down the telephone? He was feeling hungry, but there was plenty of food in his own kitchen. He thought, what day is it? Is it morning or evening? Of course he would telephone Tuan. He was absolutely exhausted, ready to drop, he ought to have taken a taxi. He let himself out of the back door into the garden, locked the door, and trudged towards the Lodge. The sun was shining. He recalled that he had forgotten to lock up the Lodge before leaving, thank heavens Benet hadn’t seen that! He opened the door. Something was different. There was a strange smell. Something was wrong. He looked through the open door of the bedroom. There was chaos on the bed, someone was lying there. It was Marian.
‘Do stop crying,’ he said. He had asked her why she had run away from Tuan. He felt relief but also terrible confusion and distress. He must get her away before Benet came, he must get her away at once! ‘Won’t you let me take you back to Tuan? You are safe there. You are safe.’ But of course she was not safe. He did not want her to run away again, but he could not keep her here and certainly not ‘hand her over to Benet’ against her will!
