by Iris Murdoch
Outside, Benet’s crazy London game was over. It was not that he felt ‘better’. He felt sick and frightened. He felt like a criminal who, prior to execution, is taken to the place of the crime. He began at first, leaving the station, to scuttle about, running away up Villiers Street towards the Strand. He reached the Strand, crossed the road, nearly being run over, and began to walk aimlessly along the pavement, looking into the windows of shops, in the direction of Waterloo Bridge. He paused for a while however outside the Adelphi Theatre and began slowly to make his way back. He stood still for a short while, then pressing through the crowds, crossed the road again. Here he walked cautiously down one of the streets parallel to Villiers Street, looking at the house where he used to live and where Jackson had first spoken to him. He felt a curious impulse to knock at the door. In fact he knocked, but no one answered. He walked down as far as the garden which ran beside the river, then returned into the evening rush. He went back to Villiers Street, then stopped at the Arches and walked a little way in. He returned and stood upon the pavement, streams of men and women, hurrying, brushed past him. He stared a while at passing faces. Then he walked back down the hill toward the station. Underneath the railway bridge two men and a woman were standing. As he approached, the woman held out her hand to him. He fumbled in his pocket for a pound coin which he gave to her. He thought, why am I not like that too. And then, why do I think such thoughts, why am I here, oh God forgive me, except that I don’t believe in God. He went into the station, intending to take a train, then stood looking out onto the Victoria Embankment. Just beyond was the Thames. He observed the thick stream of traffic and waited. Then he found himself standing at the foot of the steps leading up to the railway bridge; automatically he began to mount. Why was he doing this, he felt so tired and so senseless. At the top of the steps he paused. He thought, I am nobody now. He was the beginning of nobody. Now it was dark. The Thames below was full and quiet. It was dark on the bridge, a lit-up train rattled past. Benet turned to go down, then changed his mind and set off slowly toward the other side. Near the centre of the bridge a man was leaning upon the rail, looking down the river in the direction of Waterloo Bridge. Benet stopped, then moved on. The man turned to him.
Later Benet, looking back, wondered how he had remained upright. He also thought, or imagined, that Jackson’s face was in some way lit up. He kept on walking until he was close to Jackson. Nearing, the hideous idea occurred to him of simply passing by, with a nod, or with a calm stare ahead. How this had occurred to him seemed later incredible - certainly it was not contempt or hatred - it was fear. He thought, suppose I speak to him and he just ignores me. He stopped a short distance away from Jackson, who had now turned towards him and certainly recognised him. Benet thought, I shall speak, then pass on. He came a little closer, then paused. He said, ‘Jackson.’ This alone, this alone perhaps, was all that would be expected of him, all he would be allowed to offer, before he passed by in silence. Stumbling, he went on however, ‘I’m sorry.’
Jackson, turned now towards Benet and leaning against the railing of the bridge, said nothing. Very close to them another brightly lit train rushed by. Then silence against the hum of the city.
Benet, wanting, needing now, to say just one more thing, then slink away, said, ‘You have been very kind to us-to me-I am very sorry.’ He had by now noticed that Jackson was wearing shabby clothes such as he had worn when Benet first met him.
As Jackson still said nothing, Benet felt he was being dismissed, he could not simply stay there uttering feeble servile remarks, his misery in any case was making him speechless. He had now to decide whether he was to walk on, past Jackson, or walk back again the way he had come. He began to turn back, then decided to go forward.
Jackson said, ‘Wait a minute.’
After this he turned from Benet and looked away down the river towards St Paul’s.
Benet waited in silence.
Jackson, turning back, said, ‘Why are you here?’
Benet said promptly, ‘Looking for you.’
Jackson reflected on this, nodded his head, then turned away again towards the river.
Benet, wondering if this were a blunt dismissal, or seeking for something to keep the conversation alive, said, ‘Have you got another job?’
Jackson, turning toward Benet, and now leaning with his back to the river, gazed at Benet and said nothing.
Benet, blundering on, said, ‘Then I suppose you’re here for-like when I first met you - ?’ This was an even more tactless remark. Benet at that moment was overcome by something in Jackson’s look, his stare, his untouchability. He wanted to say something about this, but of course it was impossible. Jackson was, naturally enough, trying to get rid of him. He thought of saying that he would be very glad to employ Jackson again, only this too was impossible! He said, ‘I am sorry that I wrote that letter to you, I repented it very soon after - then I couldn’t find you.’
‘That’s all right,’ said Jackson. He continued to look at Benet but in what now seemed a rather bored or dreamy manner. He was waiting for Benet to go.
Benet, reduced to total misery, was finding himself unable to continue the conversation. He thought: I shall never see him again.
At that moment a burly man appeared suddenly beside them out of the dark. Benet thought: this is his friend! That is the end! Then it was clear that the man was asking for money. Benet instantly produced two pound coins and gave them to him. The man, who appeared to be grateful, murmured ‘Thanks,’ then disappeared. Benet wished he had given him more money. Jackson had not moved.
Benet said suddenly, ‘How terrible. I wish Uncle Tim were here - ’
The unexpected mention of Uncle Tim made a change of atmosphere. Why did I say that, Benet thought. Keep up your bright swords! Are we at war then - or what? He was suddenly conscious of being terribly hungry. He said, ‘Look, let’s go and have something to eat.’ What a mad thing to say! He thought, of course he won‘t! He just wants to get rid of me. Oh God, I won’t ever see him ever again - but it can’t be like that. He said, ‘Jackson, you must not be angry with me, please forgive me - after all -’
Jackson detached himself from the bridge. He said, ‘Let us walk, anyway.’ They began to walk back towards the station.
TEN
‘So now all the weddings are over!’ said Ada Fox, looking lovingly upon her daughter and her son-in-law.
‘Yep!’ said Cantor,who was leaning down over Marian’s chair. Marian reached up a hand towards him. He kissed it. ‘Ours was best though. They were sneaking into Register Offices. We had the real thing!’
‘And you’ve bought the house near the Harbour?’
‘Yes!’ said Marian. ‘There’s a lovely tropical garden running down to the water! And kookaburras! We’ll show you tomorrow.’
‘Great! And what lovely in-laws - such a charming brother and sister-in-law, Cantor, and what an estate! I’m sorry I didn’t see any sheep.’
‘That’s what our farms are like here,’ said Cantor, now sitting down and putting his arm round his wife. ‘Twenty acres to one sheep. Got to be big.’
‘I’m in love with Australia already.’
They were sitting after breakfast in Cantor’s present house in Sydney, from which they were soon to move to the larger new house with the kookaburras.
‘I’ll love to see your new house. Then I’ve got to take the plane to London. There’ll be a lot to talk about up there too! Fancy Edward suddenly marrying Anna! She’s much older, isn’t she - and a little boy at a difficult age. I wonder if that will work. Edward is a bit of a rotter. He must have been making up to Anna all the time! What an escape you’ve made, darling-of course you never intended to marry him, I know! You’ve got hold of just the best man in the world! And then there’s Rosalind marrying Tuan, who never opens his mouth, and he wants to live in Scotland and he hasn’t any money. And I gather Mildred, after all that fuss, hasn’t gone to India at all, I expect she was afraid someone would pick
up Owen when she was away-or hasn’t she got hold of an Anglican priest as well? I don’t think she’ll ever marry. And hasn’t Benet got hold of his butler again? You see, I know everything - that letter I got from Owen. He’s such a chatter-box, bless him!’
‘But where will you stay?’ said Cantor. ‘You didn’t say — ’
‘Oh, everybody has asked me - of course I shall stay with Mildred in London, I’m longing to see the priest! In the country, that’s a problem - both Benet and Edward will want me - or shall I stay at the Sea Kings? Yes, perhaps I will, I’ll do that, so I shall be free!’
‘I adore your mother,’ Cantor said later to his wife.
‘Yes,’ said Marian, ‘she is really a good egg, she is very tough and brave. She’s disposed of two husbands, as well as the one she didn’t marry.’
‘I gather the American has gone. Perhaps she’ll steal Jackson.’
‘I doubt that!’ said Marian.
‘I wish we could have stolen Jackson. Or - no - he might steal you!’
‘Absolutely not, my darling! Oh Cantor, how wonderfully lucky it’s all been. I might have been in hell, and now I’m in paradise. Oh my dear angel, let me kiss your hands, I worship you!’
‘Well, thank the gods of the Aborigines who have made it so, that we have such bliss!’
‘I’m sorry Mamma isn’t staying long enough for us to take her to Ayers Rock.’
‘Oh well, she’ll come back. And what a horsewoman she is too, I was amazed!’
‘Yes, I should have told you, she’s been riding all her life.’
‘And wasn’t it smart of Jackson to get back your gold watch from the stables and send it to you! I love that fellow. You know I positively fought with him when he suddenly appeared saying he was my brother - ’
‘I bet you won.’
‘Well - um - Now I’m proud to have him as my brother - like Abos do - yes, I elect him as my brother! And now, little one, sweet one - what do you think - just between now and dinner?’
‘We shall be too early,’ said Mildred to Owen. ‘You are driving too fast, as usual.’
‘We’ve got to posh up at the Sea Kings,’ said Owen.
‘Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter if we turn up a bit early at Penn. I can help Jackson, and you can chatter and get drunk with Benet. Benet is so much better, isn’t he.’
‘Well of course. Losing Jackson was a bitter penance. Getting him back was something he didn’t deserve.’
‘I can’t think how he lost him. He didn’t show us the letter. It must have been an awful letter.’
‘It was awful.’
‘You didn’t see it?’
‘No, but he mumbled a lot of it to me, like in church.’
‘Please don’t drive so fast. Thank heavens it’s only us and the others. It’s beautiful, like magic - Rosalind and Tuan, Edward and Anna, it’s all so amazing! I think Benet imagined Rosalind was going to marry Edward!’
‘I thought Tuan was gay! Well, perhaps he is gay too. Those two are living on nothing. Apparently her mother doesn’t cough up any more. Tuan has given up the university, he just goes to that bookshop thing once a week. She’s not going to the Courtauld, she’s just teaching herself to paint, that costs money, and there isn’t much evidence that she can paint!’
‘Well, Benet can help them - so can Edward - so can we - ’
‘Who’s we? You mean you and Lucas? Just tell me when you’re leaving.’
‘I’ve seen some of Rosalind’s pictures - they’re not bad.’
‘All right. Probably better than mine. I’m going to give up painting. You’ll have to support me, you and Lucas - till the kids arrive.’
‘You know Ada Fox is coming next week, she’s staying with me. Of course you know, we’re old friends.’
‘She must be mad.’
‘I think Edward will not invite her!’
‘Edward will not invite anybody.’
‘Anna will run Hatting from now on. How extraordinary, it’s all been happening so quickly, and working out so well!’
‘If Edward is haughty and Tuan is penniless and Cantor is fed up with Marian - ’
‘Cantor and Marian are blissfully happy, they’re deeply in love with each other.’
‘Who says so?’
‘She’s written to me, and I believe it.’
‘Ha ha. I think I’d get on well with Cantor, he’s that sort of rogue and rotter type.’
‘I do hope you won’t get too drunk — ’
‘I wonder if Benet and Jackson have separate bedrooms.’
‘It’s amazing about Edward, it’s so sudden - ’
‘He must have been living with Anna in France, while he was courting Marian in England. I daresay Anna put her foot down.’
‘I wonder.’
‘So he’s not as shy as you think!’
‘I feel sorry for little Bran. Edward is sure to want a son of his own.’
‘Yes, and Bran will be shoved into the background, he’s being carted off to boarding school in the autumn.’
‘If only Lewen were still alive.’
‘Who is Lewen? Never heard of the fellow.’
‘So there’ll be just us and Owen and Mildred and Edward and Anna,’ said Rosalind to Tuan.
‘So Benet said.’
‘That will be a nice number. We can all talk to each other, like usual.’
‘Benet called it a wedding feast.’
‘And we are the juniors. The youngest newly-weds! I like that too!’
‘What a pity Marian and Cantor couldn’t be there, but that would be impossible of course!’
‘Of course. I wonder if time will smooth any of that away. But not now. There would be a duel! When Mamma arrives next week she’ll tell us - well, she’ll tell us only the good things.’
‘Let us hope - for the good things. It’s strange that the weddings went so fast, Owen and Mildred were quite dazed, so was Benet.’
‘At that time Benet was in a daze of misery.’
‘Now, thank heavens - Anyway we had a good lunch with Owen and Mildred afterwards, and you kept taking your ring off and putting it on the table.’
‘Yes, look at it, dear dear ring, all the same you must have spent too much — I will keep it on in bed tonight.’
‘Benet has given us the grandest spare bedroom, all our own on the other side of the house.’
‘I wonder if we shall always be allowed to be there, in that room. Mildred and Owen insist on the Sea Kings - And Jackson, now - we’ve never known where Jackson slept. I wonder when and how Jackson came back.’
‘I expect he just walked in at the door and Benet had been expecting it, and they started up as before.’
‘Like Jackson walked in on you. What did you talk about that night? About Benet, and what Jackson was to do? I’ve been so full of our joys I’ve never asked you that.’
‘It wasn’t about him, it was about me. He was there - and I was - recovering - ’
‘Recovering - well, yes, evidently - anyway you were all right the next morning. I was sick with terror, I could not sleep - I thought you might have changed your mind, there were so many things against me -’
‘Oh my darling girl - dear heart - you are not wishing - it was otherwise?’
‘No, of course not, silly - there, my ring forgives you - don’t drive so fast - watch out for the sign - I wish Bran were here this evening. Edward and Anna intimidate me a bit, they seem so much older and more experienced, it’s wonderful how they have found each other. Edward must get on with the little boy. Poor boy, he must be a bit at sea, having lived in France so long.’
‘Edward may have been in France a bit himself.’
‘I’d like to explore France but all that costs money. Mamma travels but I can’t think where she gets it, I’m not earning anything at present but I will, I’ve decided to give up painting — ’
‘To give up painting - are you mad? And what about the Courtauld?’
‘Oh I don’t want th
at, it’s far too expensive. I suppose I may paint in the evenings, but you were talking about my going to an art school, that’s out of the question, we have to be realistic - as it is we are nearly penniless - ’
‘Look, Rosalind, about our living in Edinburgh - ’
‘Oh, that’s all right, that’s all settled, I shall love living in Edinburgh, I shall love living with you, anywhere. Truly - whither thou goest I will go, and thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God!’
‘Hmm, I’m not sure I have a God.’
‘You can ask Jackson. Well, we shall miss him a lot I suppose. Anyway I shall get a job, and you can get a proper job, in a bookshop for instance - Come now, it will be fun looking for a flat and a job - I promise I’ll paint a bit occasionally - What’s the matter?’
‘Rosalind - there is something I must tell you -’
‘My dear dear love - you’re so solemn - stop the car will you - there in that place - yes - now my dearest one, I will help you and tend you and be with you for ever and ever - I don’t mind how poor we are - oh do not worry, do not grieve, you are mine and I am yours - now tell me what you want to tell me.’ ‘Well, it’s something I’ve kept secret, from everybody really, and perhaps I shouldn’t have done, only now—’
