An Unofficial rose

by Iris Murdoch

  'Well, he might, mightn't he?

  Ann tossed the piece of coloured glass in her hand. The room constrained her, closing in upon her, soft and flabby. She wanted to shake it away with her shoulders. She said, 'You saw Daddy, didn't you, when he came that time — a little before he — wrote to me.

  'Yes.

  'Did he say anything then which — well, about going away for good? He must have let you know that he was. Ann was breathless. She felt she was asking the wrong questions. She could feel Miranda's will controlling her from the bed. She walked to and fro like an animal upon a short string. She could feel the cord jerking.

  'I can't remember exactly what he said, said Miranda, 'but he seemed to think he might want to come back. He didn't seem at all sure. You know what Daddy is.

  'But you must remember! said Ann. 'What did he say exactly? Please try to remember.

  'How can I? said Miranda. 'I was so miserable. I am so miserable. Her voice was tearful.

  'Dear, I'm so sorry! said Ann. She looked at the screwed up hostile little face and felt pangs of guilt and pity. She had not worked enough at measuring Miranda's suffering.

  The white moth, who had been silent for some minutes, fell out of the lamp with singed wings. It writhed on the floor.

  Miranda leaned over to look at it. 'Better kill it, she said. 'It won't fly again. What won't fly is better killed. Better dead than crawling. It's burnt its wings off.

  Ann trod on the moth. It was a plump moth. She returned her attention to Miranda, who seemed revived by the incident and was looking singularly like her father.

  Colder herself, Ann said, 'But you thought he seemed to think it at least conceivable that he might come back?

  'Oh, certainly, said Miranda. 'He talked about coming back. She began to rearrange her bed with an air of casualness and tossed two dolls off on to the floor.

  Ann walked to the window. The night was suffocating. She looked out into the darkness. A distant owl hooted throwing successive rings of sound out over the roosting birds of the Marsh. Outside a silent world waited for the conclusion of their interview. No lights could be seen, and even the stars seemed to be stifled in the dark velvety air. She looked out into the close black emptiness and her heart seemed like a bird ready to break from her breast and fly over the quiet Marsh, to Dungeness, to the sea.

  She turned back to the little crumpled room and Miranda watching her. The cord twitched her back. She said, 'But if he doesn't come back and we do get divorced. Well, then I might think of another marriage. And I felt I should just say this to you, though it's something so vague and really unlikely. These were blundering incompetent words.

  'Do be clear, said Miranda. 'Do you mean that you're thinking now of marrying someone in particular?

  'Yes: 'Who?

  'Felix Meecham.

  'I see, said Miranda. She showed no surprise. She reached down for one of the dolls she had dislodged. 'Why are you suddenly so keen on Felix?

  'It's not sudden, said Ann. 'Felix and I have been fond of each other for years. She felt a failure of control before the judging eyes. 'Did Daddy know about it?

  'There was nothing to know! said Ann, exasperated with herself. She had dreadfully mismanaged the scene.

  Miranda was silent, pursing her lips and jogging the doll before her. Does she believe me? thought Ann. I can't ask her. It suddenly seemed a new and horrible pain that Miranda, here, should have any misconceptions.

  After a moment Miranda said, 'Of course you must please yourself. It's your life'.

  'I just wanted to speak to you, said Ann. 'I don't want to surprise you or upset you. It sounded cold and awkward. She added, 'After all, you know Felix and you like him, and that's all to the good. But of course this is just a very vague possibility.

  'I don't know him particularly, said Miranda. 'I've' hardly ever spoken to him. And I'm not sure that I like him.

  'Oh, come!

  'Daddy doesn't like him either, said Miranda. 'Perhaps he guessed: 'I've told you, there was nothing to guess!

  Miranda raised her eyebrows to the doll.

  Ann felt she must get out of the room or suffocate. The owl was hooting again. The wide open window seemed a menace, as if at any moment Randall might fly in through it like a bat, with a great spreading and folding of leathery wings.

  As if catching her thought Miranda said. 'You know Daddy could, come home at any time. Any minute now we might hear a car.

  They both listened, holding each other's eyes. The great silence seemed pregnant with sound as if the other listeners were holding their breath.

  Ann felt herself near to panic. She went to the door. 'Well, let's see, shall we? We won't talk about it again. I've made too much of it, really. We'll see what Daddy wants. It was just something vaguely possible: As her hand strayed to the door handle something on the white shelves beside the door caught her eye. It was one of Miranda's dolls which had been transfixed through the middle by the German dagger and pinned to the shelf. Ann looked at the sinister little portent. 'Why have you murdered that poor creature?

  'I was punishing it, said Miranda. 'It's an Assyrian torture. She pushed the bedclothes aside and began to get out of bed.

  'A rather savage punishment. Don't get cold, dear. I'll say good night now. Don't be bothered by anything I said.

  , Wait a minute, said Miranda. Boyish in her pyjamas, head thrown back, she faced her mother across the table. They were almost of a height.

  'Whatever Daddy does it would make no difference.

  'What do you mean?

  'You can't get divorced in a church.

  'Opinions differ about those things, said Ann. She felt fear, but with it a little anger and the stirring of will which was like a kind of joy.

  'So you'd still be married to him, said Miranda, 'and he'd still be married to you. Suppose he wanted to come back later on? If you'd run off with someone else he wouldn't be able to. He might come back crying for you and looking for you and you wouldn't be there. But if you waited for him it would be all right. He would always have somewhere to come back to. This would always be his home really and if he were unhappy he could come back to it. She spoke vehemently and a thin speckled flush covered her face.

  Ann was shaken. She said, turning the handle, 'Well, we'll see. She wanted to run. 'No, we won't see! said Miranda, her voice 'vibrating. 'Daddy will be unhappy, he will want to come back, I know it, we must wait for him! Her eyes filled with tears.

  She reached out to the table and pulled something out of the heap and held it to her face. She began to shake with convulsive sobs. 'I love Daddy. No one must have his place. I don't want to be a step-daughter.

  Ann moved towards her; as she moved she saw what it was that Miranda was holding. It was the white rabbit Joey, Randall's old toy. So Randall had not taken the animals after all. Miranda had simply moved them up to her own room. Randall had not taken them away. Ann's arms encircled Miranda and Joey; and as her own tears began to flow and as the bright multi-coloured head came to rest against her shoulder she felt herself with despair suddenly weakened, loosened, unbolted by her old love for Randall.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  FELIX brought the very dark blue Mercedes screeching to a halt. Its front wheels seemed to have got on to some sort of flower bed. He did not pause to investigate, but jumped out and looked up at the dark front of the house. There was no light in Ann's room, there was no light to be seen. Of course it was after midnight and Ann, whose ambiguous telegram he had received in London only two hours before, would doubtless be expecting him in the morning. He wondered what to do. He entered the glass porch, tried the front door and found it open.

  He fumbled in the dark hall for the light switch and then stood looking about him in the rather dim illumination. The shabby hall, full of crouching furniture, looked sinister, a place through which a midnight agent might glide to make an arrest. Felix felt a sort of fright which was really fright of himself, fear of the fear he might, by his sudden silent
entry, cause. Yet perhaps it was he himself who was the victim. He had not understood Ann's wire.

  He went into the drawing-room, stepping softly, and turned on the lights. The room looked desolate as if it had not been occupied for weeks. It smelt musty. He turned an electric fire on. Sparks flew out of it and one bar seemed to be out of order. There was a smell of burning. He took off his coat. Of course he would not go and wake Ann. He would compose himself somehow, somewhere until the morning. He looked gloomily at the sofa which was long, but not long enough for him. Then he thought, what lunatic conventionality now bids me lie down and sleep when what I want to do is to seize Ann in my arms? He knew he would not sleep, he would lie in agony. His heart beat fiercely at the nearness of Ann, at the nearness of his fate. He stood there, his hands at his sides, a big quiet man, waiting and wondering.

  Ann entered with a soft flurry, and they both, at seeing each other, gave a little cry. She was wearing a very long dark green dressing gown. She raised a hand to Felix and then sped to the windows and pulled the curtains. When she was at the third window he advanced as if to put his Anns around her, but her gesture as she turned arrested him, and for a moment they stood there rigid a few feet apart, like people suddenly frozen by a spell.

  'I didn't expect you tonight. I'm sorry. It was an absurd time to send a wire. I thought it wouldn't reach you till the morning.

  'Ann, Ann, he said, 'I want you now. Forgive me. I want you now. Ann, what is it to be? The late hour, the half darkened room and Ann so close, pale and slim in the long robe, filled him with a frenzied certainty of desire.

  'Ah no, she said. 'It's no use. That's what I called you to say.

  He had somehow known this. It had come to him on the drive down, streaming like fog against the wire screen. But he said, 'No, I can't accept this, Ann. You don't mean what you say. You love me. Recognize it, have the courage of it, I beseech you. He spoke softly, abruptly.

  'It's no use, she said again, turning from him and smoothing her hair.

  'Is it — Miranda?

  'No, no. It's Randall.

  'Keeping the light burning — all that stuff', Well, yes.

  'You perfect fool, he said, and he really wanted to shake her, 'Randall will never come back. That's all over, done for, for ever. And she ever hears you're sitting waiting for him he'll think you're doing it just to spite him. And you probably will be doing it just to spite him. Let him go, Ann, for God's sake let the poor devil go.

  She Buttered away from him across the dead room and stood by the mantelpiece with her back to him. He saw her twisted face in the mirror before she covered it with her hand. 'It's hard to explain. It isn't exactly that I expect anything. I just can't stand the idea of Randall coming back to look for me and my not being there: 'Do you imagine Randall has any grain of love or affection left for you?

  She said in a low voice after a moment's silence, 'Evidently.

  It seemed dark in the room and the sense of midnight violence was still with them. Cold as he was at Ann's words, Felix still trembled with desire. The hour, his strength, the nearness of their bodies, made him feel that he could, he must, make her assent. He said, 'You're wrong. But never mind. Wait a while, and see what you think then. I've told you I'm in no hurry.

  'If I can't say yes now I can't say yes at all: she said in a monotonous voice. 'How could I expect you to wait around? Randall could come back. I half thought tonight when I heard the car that it was him and not you. He could come back. That's the truth, and it's the decisive truth. She spoke heavily, mechanically, without looking at him.

  Did she mean it, Felix wondered, was she perhaps trying him, wanting him to force her? He felt almost grim enough to push her struggling into the Mercedes. He said, to gain time, 'You really think he might come back? Aren't you being naive?

  'I think he might. Miranda thinks so, much more. And she knows him.

  'Oh, to hell with Miranda.

  'You must go away, Felix, she intoned again.

  He bit his lip and worked his jaw and realized from her expression as she now tunied to him that he must be scowling. He said, 'I admire and love you, Ann, but there are moments when I wonder whether you aren't just a muddled sentimental ass.

  She looked at him with an austere sadness. Forgive me, Felix. I can't explain properly, but I'm quite sure. Oh, my darling, let us do this thing quickly. Her voice trembled.

  Felix faltered. He knew very well how to deal with some women.

  But he did not know how to deal with her. His very apprehension of the difference paralysed him. He wished he could force her now with a look or a gesture. 'I won't let you, he said.

  Ann was staring at him desperately, her eyes full of pain and fright.

  She said, after a moment of seeming to wait for him, 'I must, you see, give Randall the benefit of any doubt.

  'Why is it Randall, Randall? Why don't you do what you want for once? Or have you forgotten how?

  'Perhaps I have forgotten how, she said slowly. 'I don't in a way see myself I see him. It's not that I'm being unselfish. He just too much is.

  'Don't you see me?

  'Ah, she said. 'You. That's the trouble.

  'You mean, he tried to read her face rather than her words, 'that I've become — with you — invisible? You can't see me — because I'm simply something that you want? He feared to put it too clearly. But that he should be so almost mechanically renounced with the renunciation of her own will seemed to him too cruel. He was to be destroyed, with her, by the sheer overbrimming existence of the absent Randall.

  'How do I know what I want? she said most impatiently. 'It's not wanting things, it's denying things, that makes me so bad for people, that made me so bad for Randall, that would make me so bad for you.

  'I don't understand you, he said, approaching her now. 'You couldn't be bad for anyone. You are good, and good cannot be bad. You speak so abstractly. Be natural with me, Ann. Let go, give way. And don't talk any more damn nonsense to me for Christ's sake. He towered over her.

  'Don't, she said looking up at him, and her voice was timid, most querulous. 'I do what I have to do. Don't make it hard, Felix. I am bound to Randall, I am bound, don't you see?

  He spread his hands as if to take her, but dropped them again. He wanted to seize her, to shake her to and fro. He wanted to hurl himself before her and bury his head with cries against her knees. He said quietly, 'Stop it, Ann.

  'You must go away, Felix, she said in the same inert trembling tone. 'What will you do?

  Felix felt pain and anger. He could not believe her. For a moment he almost wanted to hurt her. He said, 'Well, if I were to Jet you turn me off like this I suppose I should make some other arrangements. I certainly wouldn't mope. I should go to India. I suppose I should marry someone. I must get married soon or I shall dry up completely. But I intend to marry you, damn it.

  'What about — Marie-Laure? said Ann. She receded from him now step by step toward the window.

  'Well, what about Marie-Laure?

  'You once said you'd show me a picture of her, said Ann. She was strained and white and small.

  Why does she torment us both, thought Felix. 'Yes, he said with irritation. 'I've got one here. Would you like to see it? He fumbled in his pocket. Marie-Laure's letter was still there, and with it the photograph which he had slipped into the envelope some time ago. With a slight shock he glanced at the photo: the clever long-nosed girl with the narrow dark eyes and the great cascade of almost black hair. Marie-Laure. Mon beau Felix, souhaitez-vous vraiment me revoir? He handed it to Ann.

  Ann took one look and began to cry.

  'Oh, my God I' said Felix. He started to walk up and down the room.

  'I'm sorry, she said, controlling herself and laying the photo down on the table. 'I didn't mean to inflict this on you.

  'Look, Ann, said Felix, 'to the devil with Randall and Marie-Laure. They've got no business here. We're both tired and overstrained and it was lunatic of me to come so late at night. Go to bed
now and in the morning we can talk again.

  'No, no, said Ann, all tearful now, 'I couldn't bear it, Felix.

  'You're not sending me away now?

  She nodded mutely, gazing into her raised handkerchief, the tears still slowly falling.

  'Ann, said Felix, 'do you love me?

  She was silent, and then still staring at the handkerchief said in a dull hoarse voice, 'Yes. But not enough I suppose. Or not in the right way.

  Felix went cold and rigid. He said stiffly, 'Well, why didn't you say so at once? This makes everything much simpler. Of course I shall go. But you should have told me sooner.

  'Ah, I don't mean that! she said, raising her head, and her face was wild with some appeal. 'I don't mean that. I do love you. God knows I love you. But I can't see my way out. I'm still too involved with Randall. He's too real. I don't understand it myself. But I do love you. Oh Felix, I'm wretched, help me, help me! Her voice ended in a high-pitched wail. She sobbed for a moment and then was quite still, her hands hanging at her sides, the tears coming.

  Felix looked at her miserably. 'There's no need to be kind to me, he said. 'There's no need to be evasive with me. Naturally l. won't press you or bother you. Don't worry about me. I'll go to India. I won't trouble you any more. I think you're wrong about Randall. But I suppose you have a right to love him and not me. I suppose you have a right to think as you please — about your husband.

  The word fell dully between them and Ann moaned. She said again, scarcely articulately, 'I love you, Felix, I love you.

  He said, 'I know. It's all right. You don't have to be kind. He picked up his coat. He pocketed the photograph of Marie-Laure.

  For a moment they stared at each other. 'Don't go, said Ann, almost in a whisper, her tears suddenly checked.

  Felix shook his head. 'You're right, he said. 'It's better to do it quickly. I have no taste for suffering. Forgive me for having troubled you. He made for the door.

  He dragged savagely at the wheel of the very dark blue Mercedes and drove it half across the lawn towards the gates. A strange cry seemed to linger in the air behind him. He pressed his foot down and down on the accelerator until the car screamed under him. He was paying the penalty, he knew it even then, for being an officer and a gentleman.