The Sea, The Sea Part 20

You’re reading novel The Sea, The Sea Part 20 online at LightNovelFree.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit LightNovelFree.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy!

'He wanted you to come home, and'

'And what?'

I was feeling so chastened and confused I went stupidly on, 'He said he'd brought the dog back with him.'

'Oh the dog the dog I'd forgotten' Some more tears welled up and ran over her cheeks which were so bloated with crying that she was almost unrecognizable, but she controlled herself. 'Oh dear oh dear I do wish I'd been there when the dog came.'

'Look, Hartley,' I said, 'you don't seem to be capable of thinking about this business, so let me think for you. We can't go on like this. I'm beginning .to feel like a terrorist. You've put me in a position where I have to play the bully, which is the role I detest most of all. All right, I don't know what your marriage was like and maybe it wasn't all that awful and he he wasn't all that awful, but it obviously wasn't a success and I don't see why you should put up with a violent and unpleasant man any longer when you don't have to. You can walk out. I daresay you would have walked out before if you had had anywhere to walk to. Now you have. Let's go to London. This situation here is driving me mad. I'm letting it go on because I don't want to force you, I don't want you to say later that you didn't decide for yourself. I don't want to be forced to force you. Have some consideration for me, and for t.i.tus. I'm very fond of t.i.tus, I regard him as my son, yes I do. And he hates that man, and if you go back to wasn't all that awful, but it obviously wasn't a success and I don't see why you should put up with a violent and unpleasant man any longer when you don't have to. You can walk out. I daresay you would have walked out before if you had had anywhere to walk to. Now you have. Let's go to London. This situation here is driving me mad. I'm letting it go on because I don't want to force you, I don't want you to say later that you didn't decide for yourself. I don't want to be forced to force you. Have some consideration for me, and for t.i.tus. I'm very fond of t.i.tus, I regard him as my son, yes I do. And he hates that man, and if you go back to him him you'll never see t.i.tus again. You're not just choosing between me and your ghastly failed marriage-please forgive my languagethere's t.i.tus in the scales as well. Let's go to London, all three of us, and then away somewhere, anywhere. We're a family now. What I've never had since I left my parents' home. Let's go away together anywhere you like and chase after some happiness. Wouldn't you like to see t.i.tus happy? He wants to be an actor, I can help him. Don't you want to you'll never see t.i.tus again. You're not just choosing between me and your ghastly failed marriage-please forgive my languagethere's t.i.tus in the scales as well. Let's go to London, all three of us, and then away somewhere, anywhere. We're a family now. What I've never had since I left my parents' home. Let's go away together anywhere you like and chase after some happiness. Wouldn't you like to see t.i.tus happy? He wants to be an actor, I can help him. Don't you want to see see him happy?' him happy?'



She listened to me, but towards the end of the speech began shaking her head. She said, 'Please, please don't force me to go anywhere, you'd kill me. I have got to go home. You know I have got to go, and you know I don't want to stay here. There isn't going to be anyanywhat you want.i.t would be like a miracle in my mind.'

'Oh yes. Hartley, my sweetheart, wait for that miracle, wait for it, its name is love.'

'No, that is not its name, and it hasn't come and it won't come. Don't you see you are working to destroy me? Now he will never believe me, never. And that is your doing, your crime. It's like a murder. Never, never, never.'

Soon after this she said she was very tired and would sleep, and I left her.

I awoke suddenly. The moon was s.h.i.+ning into my bedroom, where I had omitted to pull down the blind. I could hear the splash of the sea and a very faint rattle of the stones which the waves were gently clawing as they withdrew from the cauldron. It must be low tide. I could hear also, or sense, a vast void, a dome of silence, within which my heart was beating exceedingly fast. I felt suffocated and had to sit up abruptly and gasp for breath. I remembered, as I now did whenever I awoke, with a pang of anguish and love and fear, that Hartley was in the house. At the same time I felt the most terrible dread, a premonition of some catastrophe, some horror, or indeed the certainty that it had already occurred. I began to get out of bed, trembling violently, and fumbled for my candle. I lit it and then stood up and listened. The void dark house was ominously quiet. I very quickly opened my bedroom door and looked down the landing. There seemed to be a dim light coming from the alcove, but perhaps it was a trick of the moon. I listened and seemed to hear a beating sound, a heavy noise, deep and accelerating, very very far away. I moved slowly forward, putting each foot down carefully so as not to make the boards creak. I could now see quite clearly Hartley's door and the key in the lock. I wanted to reach it, to put my hand onto the key, but I was afraid to hurry, afraid to enter that terrible room. I got the key into my hand and turned it and stepped in through the doorway holding my candle. The mattress on the floor, at which I always looked on entering, was empty, the bedclothes disordered. Hartley was gone I started about, ready to cry out with panic fear. And then I saw her she was standing in the corner. I thought, how odd I had forgotten how tall she is. Then I thought she is standing on something, how odd, she must be up on the chair or the table. Then I saw that she was suspended from the lamp bracket. She had hanged herself.

I woke up. The lightning flash of thought which showed me the dream showed me at the same moment that it was a dream. I was lying in my bed. I had not been to Hartley's room and found her dead, having hanged herself with one other stockings from the cast-iron lamp bracket, climbing up onto the table and casting herself off. I felt intense violent relief: and then the thought, but supposing it is true?

Sick and trembling I got up, lit my candle, and quietly opened my bedroom door. The candle-light illumined the barrier of the bead curtain but nothing beyond. The curtain was clicking softly, no doubt as a result of the draught from the door. I carefully plucked the bead strings apart and glided on to Hartley's room and turned the key very quietly. I leaned through the doorway and peered in. There she was, in the light of my candle, lying curled up on the mattress, covered by a blanket, her hand over her face. I watched and heard her steady quiet breathing. Then I silently withdrew and locked the door again. I went back through the bead curtain, trying not to agitate it too much, and in sheer distraction went into the drawing room. I had, since Hartley's incarceration, kept out of the drawing room, out of a sort of sense of propriety, because of the long window which gave onto Hartley's room. I went in now, vaguely with the idea of making sure there was no one there, and of course there was not. I stood, holding my candle, and looking at the long inner window which was now like a glossy black mirror; and it occurred to me that I was shunning the drawing room not out of propriety but because of the appalling possibility that I might see Hartley actually looking out. And then I suddenly remembered the face which I had seen looking at me through the dark gla.s.s; and I thought, that face was too high up. too high up. It could not have been the face of someone standing on the floor. It was just at the level at which Hartley's face would have been if she had really handed herself. It could not have been the face of someone standing on the floor. It was just at the level at which Hartley's face would have been if she had really handed herself.

Then I thought, my candle is s.h.i.+ning into her room, making a faint ghostly light in her room. What dreads and fears did she have, poor captive, if she woke in the night? Did she climb on a chair to peer into the dim empty moonlit drawing room? Did she very quietly try the locked door, hoping and fearing to be able to creep downstairs and run away into the dark night? I hurriedly returned to my bedroom and closed the door, I sat on my bed shuddering and looked at my watch. It was half-past two. What was I doing, or rather what was happening to me? I held my head in my hands. I was totally vulnerable and helpless. I had lost control of my life and of the lives with which I was meddling. I felt dread and a terrible fatalism; and bitter grief, grief such as I had never felt in my life since Hartley had left me so many years ago. I had wakened some sleeping demon, set going some deadly machine; and what would be would be.

The next morning something did happen, which was that Rosina turned up. I had, after my horrible night interlude, managed to sleep. Perhaps sheer fatalism sent me to sleep. Let Ben come, let him set fire to the house, let him kill me. I deserved to die. I felt a good deal less fatalistic and more anxious when I woke up in the morning. It seemed urgently necessary to make a decision, but there was no material, no data, no evidence on which a decision could be made. I pa.s.sionately wanted to take Hartley away, to London, to anywhere, or rather I wanted to want it enough to be able to do it now. But against her will, should I, could I? Could I pull a resisting, screaming woman into Gilbert's car and have her driven off? Could I deceive her into thinking she was going home? Would Gilbert let me? Would t.i.tus let me? If I took her away by force, it might harden her against me, and impede that precious movement of her will for which I was so impatiently waiting. Yet could could the situation go on? And if not what else could possibly come of it? I felt it absolutely unthinkable to let Hartley go back to that man, especially after what she had said yesterday about how he would never, never believe her now. Suppose I let her go back and he killed her? I would have murdered her. Could I imagine myself opening the door and saying, all right, I give up, you can go home? the situation go on? And if not what else could possibly come of it? I felt it absolutely unthinkable to let Hartley go back to that man, especially after what she had said yesterday about how he would never, never believe her now. Suppose I let her go back and he killed her? I would have murdered her. Could I imagine myself opening the door and saying, all right, I give up, you can go home? Jfo. Jfo. The only piece of rational discourse which I could hang on to, and it was of great value, was what Hartley had said about the miracle in her mind which had not come about. If she could even utter such words, did not this indicate that her mind was divided and that she had some grain of hope that was favourable to me, some tiny pure inclination to make herself want what I wanted? But she The only piece of rational discourse which I could hang on to, and it was of great value, was what Hartley had said about the miracle in her mind which had not come about. If she could even utter such words, did not this indicate that her mind was divided and that she had some grain of hope that was favourable to me, some tiny pure inclination to make herself want what I wanted? But she must must want to be free and happy, everybody did. She must, somewhere in her tormented soul, want me to take her away, out of misery, out of servitude. She must be moved by the idea of t.i.tus, and the redemption other love for him, a new family, a new world. She had only to open her eyes and stretch out her hand and say yes. There were vast liberating forces pent up somewhere which were bound to break out. It was just a matter of waiting and keeping her here and letting time enlighten her will. want to be free and happy, everybody did. She must, somewhere in her tormented soul, want me to take her away, out of misery, out of servitude. She must be moved by the idea of t.i.tus, and the redemption other love for him, a new family, a new world. She had only to open her eyes and stretch out her hand and say yes. There were vast liberating forces pent up somewhere which were bound to break out. It was just a matter of waiting and keeping her here and letting time enlighten her will.

I had given her breakfast and tried to talk to her and to explain explain what I have just written here, only she kept saying that she wanted to go home. Her ringed eyes and puffy face and the unnerving languor of her bearing made me wonder if she were not really ill, and whether I should call a doctor. Then, more exasperated than pitying, I wondered if I could not better serve my cause by being brusque, and I left her rather abruptly, and then was sorry. I was standing beside the bead curtain and touching it, uncertain what to do next, when I heard a sudden loud outburst of laughter from down below, followed by some part-singing with a female voice. what I have just written here, only she kept saying that she wanted to go home. Her ringed eyes and puffy face and the unnerving languor of her bearing made me wonder if she were not really ill, and whether I should call a doctor. Then, more exasperated than pitying, I wondered if I could not better serve my cause by being brusque, and I left her rather abruptly, and then was sorry. I was standing beside the bead curtain and touching it, uncertain what to do next, when I heard a sudden loud outburst of laughter from down below, followed by some part-singing with a female voice.

I ran down to the kitchen. Rosina was sitting on the table swinging her legs and being (there is no other word for it) wors.h.i.+pped by Gilbert and t.i.tus. She was wearing a dark grey very fine check, very smart lightweight coat and skirt and a white silk blouse and very long wrinkled white high-heeled boots. Her glossy glowing dark hair had been cut or piled by a clever hair-dresser into a rounded segmented composition which looked both complex and casual. (Horace would have liked it.) Her intense animal face was blazing with health and vitality and feral curiosity. She was entirely in control of a situation where the other two, perhaps as a result of prolonged strain, had now broken down into helpless crazy giggling and fou rire. fou rire. My appearance provoked another outburst of slightly hysterical laughter, and they all spontaneously broke into song again. They sang in round, and showed no sign of stopping, an Italian catch whose words I can remember since t.i.tus and Gilbert had been singing it obsessively in the preceding days. t.i.tus taught it to Gilbert and now Rosina had got it too. It went My appearance provoked another outburst of slightly hysterical laughter, and they all spontaneously broke into song again. They sang in round, and showed no sign of stopping, an Italian catch whose words I can remember since t.i.tus and Gilbert had been singing it obsessively in the preceding days. t.i.tus taught it to Gilbert and now Rosina had got it too. It went Eravamo tredici, siamo Eravamo tredici, siamo rimasti dodici, sei facevano rima, e sei facevan' pima-poma-pima-poma. rimasti dodici, sei facevano rima, e sei facevan' pima-poma-pima-poma. G.o.d knows what it was supposed to be about. Singing is of course a form of aggression. The wet open mouths and glistening teeth of the singers are ardent to devour the victim-hearer. Singers crave hearers as animals crave their prey. Intoxicated by their own voices they now roared it out, round and round, Gilbert's fruity baritone, t.i.tus's pseudo-Neapolitan tenor and Rosina's strong rather harsh contralto. I shouted, 'Stop! Stop! Stop that b.l.o.o.d.y row!' But they went on singing G.o.d knows what it was supposed to be about. Singing is of course a form of aggression. The wet open mouths and glistening teeth of the singers are ardent to devour the victim-hearer. Singers crave hearers as animals crave their prey. Intoxicated by their own voices they now roared it out, round and round, Gilbert's fruity baritone, t.i.tus's pseudo-Neapolitan tenor and Rosina's strong rather harsh contralto. I shouted, 'Stop! Stop! Stop that b.l.o.o.d.y row!' But they went on singing at at me me , , their bright eyes, moist with laughter, fixed upon me, waving their arms in time to the tune; until at last they wearied, stopped, and went off into another crazy laughing fit. their bright eyes, moist with laughter, fixed upon me, waving their arms in time to the tune; until at last they wearied, stopped, and went off into another crazy laughing fit.

I sat on a chair and watched them.

Coherent at last, Rosina said, wiping her eyes, 'Charles, you're so funny, you are an endless source of amus.e.m.e.nt to your friends. I hear you've got your lady-love here, hidden away upstairs! You really are priceless!'

'Why the h.e.l.l did you have to tell her?' I said to Gilbert and t.i.tus. Gilbert, attempting unsuccessfully to erase the laughter-wrinkles from his face, avoided my look. He started rolling and swinging his eyes.

t.i.tus said rather sulkily, 'You didn't say not to tell.' Then he caught Rosina's eye and beamed. Gilbert had of course met Rosina before and knew her slightly. He had hitherto regarded her with the prudish hostility which some male h.o.m.os.e.xuals instinctively feel towards very feminine predatory women (whereas with gentle sweet women such as Lizzie they got on very well). However he seemed now to have suffered an instant conversion. t.i.tus was simply a boy absolutely thrilled to see a famous actress in the flesh and to find that she not only noticed him but appreciated the charms of his youth. They kept eyeing each other, he shyly, she with bold amus.e.m.e.nt. t.i.tus's appearance had profited, as Gilbert's had, from sun and sea. His reddish blond hair had been burnished and enlivened into a halo of fine wire, and his s.h.i.+rt, scarcely b.u.t.toned, showed the glowing skin and blazing red curls of his chest. His trousers were rolled up to reveal long elegant bronzed legs. He was barefoot. The scarred lip gave a twisted male force to his pretty mouth. Rosina was at her sleekest, delighted and amused by her exercise of power. As she held court, her piercing cross-eyed glance kept moving encouragingly from one of the bemused enthralled men and back again. They seemed to be quite dazed by her attractions. It was certainly a change from the increasingly charnel house atmosphere of Shruff End.

'What do you want, Rosina?'

'What do you mean, 'What do you want?' What a way to greet a visitor. 'What do you want?'' She mimicked me.

'What sort of a question is that?'

The other two roared with laughter. They seemed to find everything Rosina said vastly clever and funny.

'Why are you here?'

'Can't you make an effort to be civil to an old friend?'

'I'm not in a social mood.'

'So I see. Yet you already have two charming guests, in fact three guests, including lady-love. All right, I'm not angling for an invitation to stay. I think this is the nastiest meanest most unpleasant house I've ever entered.'

'It has bad vibes,' said t.i.tus.

'You can say that again,' said Gilbert.

They were ganging up against me.

'But is your funny lady really upstairs? Whatever are you going to do with her? You know, you promised promised to tell me what was going on in your interesting love life, only of course I ought to know by now that you don't keep promises. Anyway I decided I'd come and see how you were getting along. I've been working hard and I thought I needed a holiday. I'm at the Raven Hotel again, I like it there, I like the bay and those extraordinary boulders. And the food is excellent, not your style.' to tell me what was going on in your interesting love life, only of course I ought to know by now that you don't keep promises. Anyway I decided I'd come and see how you were getting along. I've been working hard and I thought I needed a holiday. I'm at the Raven Hotel again, I like it there, I like the bay and those extraordinary boulders. And the food is excellent, not your style.'

'I hope you have a pleasant stay at the Raven Hotel.'

'The most amazing rumours about you are circulating in London.

'I'm sure everyone is fascinated.'

'Well, they're not actually. I had to start a few rumours myself to keep your memory a bit greenish. They've forgotten you already. You were pretty old hat when you were still with us, now you're ancient history. The young people have never heard of you, Charles. You're exploded, you're not even a myth. I can see it now, Charles dear, you're old. Where's all that charm we used to go on about? It was nothing but power really. Now you've lost your power you've lost your charm. No wonder you have to make do with a Bearded Lady.'

Just buzz off, Rosina, will you?'

'But what's happening, happening, Charles? I'm mad with curiosity. I gather from these two that she's a sort of Charles? I'm mad with curiosity. I gather from these two that she's a sort of prisoner here. May I go up and poke her through the bars?' here. May I go up and poke her through the bars?'

'Rosina, please'

'But, Charles, what are are you up to? There's a husband in the case, isn't there, if I remember? Not that husbands ever worried you much. But you can't be going to carry her off, you can't want to you up to? There's a husband in the case, isn't there, if I remember? Not that husbands ever worried you much. But you can't be going to carry her off, you can't want to marry marry her! Really, you are becoming ridiculous. You were never ridiculous in the old days. You used to have dignity and style.' her! Really, you are becoming ridiculous. You were never ridiculous in the old days. You used to have dignity and style.'

t.i.tus and Gilbert, less amused, were looking embarra.s.sed and studying the great slate flagstones of the kitchen floor.

'I'll see you to the road, Rosina. Is your car out there?'

'Oh, I don't want to go yet. I want to sing some more. Who's pretty-boy ?' She indicated t.i.tus.

'That is my son t.i.tus.'

t.i.tus frowned and stroked his scarred lip. Gilbert raised his eyebrows, Rosina changed colour, shot me a quick look of piercing malignancy, then laughed. 'Well, well-All right, I'll go. My car's outside. You may escort me to it. Goodbye, you two, I enjoyed the sing-song.' She marched out of the kitchen swinging her handbag and I followed.

Rosina walked straight out of the front door and across the causeway without looking back. I followed her as far as her horrible red car.

There she turned on me, her vixen face pointed with rage. 'Is that boy really your son?'

'Well, no, I've sort of taken him on. I always wanted a son. He's their their son, he's the adopted sonofof Hartley and her husband.' son, he's the adopted sonofof Hartley and her husband.'

'I see. I might have known it was a stupid joke. For one moment I thought perhapswhat are you going to do about that woman? You can't collect a half-crazy female at this stage of her life. You can't keep her like a mad thing on a chain. Or have I got it all wrong?'

'She's not a prisoner. She loves me. She's just been brain-washed.'

'Marriage is brainwas.h.i.+ng. Not necessarily a bad thing. Your brain could do with a wash. Oh G.o.d, I feel so tired. That b.l.o.o.d.y long driveI think your mind's going, you're getting senile, you're living in a dream world, a rather nasty one. Shall I tell you something to wake you up?'

'No, thank you.'

'You say you 'always wanted a son'. That's just a sentimental lie, you didn't want trouble, you didn't want to know. You never put yourself in a situation where you could have a real real son. Your sons are fantasies, they're easier to deal with. Do you imagine you could really 'take on' that silly uneducated adolescent boy in there? He'll vanish out of your life like everything else has done, because you can't grasp the stuff of reality. He'll turn out to be a dream child toowhen you touch him he'll fade and disappearyou'll see.' son. Your sons are fantasies, they're easier to deal with. Do you imagine you could really 'take on' that silly uneducated adolescent boy in there? He'll vanish out of your life like everything else has done, because you can't grasp the stuff of reality. He'll turn out to be a dream child toowhen you touch him he'll fade and disappearyou'll see.'

'All right, you've had your say, now go.'

'I haven't started yet. I never told you this at the time, I thought I never would. You made me pregnant. I got rid of the child.'

I drew a circle in the dust on the radiator of the car. 'Why didn't you tell me?'

'Because you weren't there to tell, you'd gone, gone off with Lizzie or whoever was the next dream girl. G.o.d, the sickening casual brutality of menthe women who are left behind to make agonizing decisions alone. I made that decision alone. Christ, how I wish I hadn't done it. I was crazy. I did it partly out of hatred of you. Why the h.e.l.l didn't I keep that child. He'd have been nearly grown up by now.'

'Rosina'

'And I'd have taught him to hate you-that would have been a consolation too.'

'I'm sorry'

'Oh, you're sorry. And I daresay I wasn't the only one. You broke up my marriage deliberately, industriously, zealously, you worked at it. Then you walk off and leave me with nothing, with less than nothing, with that horrible crime which I had to commit by myself, I cried for monthsfor yearsabout thatI've never stopped crying.' Her dark eyes filled with tears for a second, and then she seemed to magic them away. She opened the door of the car.

'OhRosina'

'I hate you, I loathe you, you've been a devil in my mind ever after-'

'Look, all right, I left you, but you drove me to it, you were responsible too. Women's Lib. hasn't stopped women from putting all the blame on us when it suits them. You tell me this terrible story now to'

'Oh shut up. What's the name of that female?'

'You mean Hartley ?'

'Is that her surname?'

'No, her surname is Fitch.'

'Fitch. OK. Mr Fitch, here I come.'

'What on earth do you mean?'

'He lives here, doesn't he? I shall find out where he lives and I shall go and console him. It'll do him good to meet a real live woman instead of an old rag-bag. He's probably forgotten what women are like. I won't hurt him, I'll just cheer him up, I'll do him less harm than you're doing her. I've got to have some amus.e.m.e.nt on my holiday. I thought of seducing pretty-boy, but it would be too easy. The father would be a far more interesting project. After all, life is full of surprises. The only thing that's become absolutely dull, dull, dull is you, Charles Dull. Goodbye.'

She got into the car and slammed the door. The car shot off like a red rocket in the direction of the village.

I stared after her. Soon there was nothing on the road but a cloud of dust and above it the pale blue sky. For a short while I felt that I should go mad if I reflected too much on what Rosina had told me about what happened in the past.

The rest of that day (before something else happened in the evening) pa.s.sed like a feverish dream. The weather, sensing my mood, infected by it perhaps, became hotter but with that sinister breathless heat that betokens a thunderstorm. The light was darkened although the sun blazed from a cloudless sky. I felt weak and s.h.i.+very as if I were developing the 'flu. My impression increased that perhaps Hartley was ill. Her eyes glittered, her hands were hot. Her stuffy smelly room had become that of an invalid. She was rational, not frenzied, she actually argued with me. I begged her to come downstairs, to come outside into the sun and air, but she lay back as if exhausted at the very thought. Even her rationality had something unnerving about it, as if it were the reasoning of a quiet maniac or an exercise undertaken simply for its own sake. She constantly said she wanted to go home, that there was no alternative, and so on and so on, but she seemed to me to lack the final real will to go. I kept on trying to regard this absence of will as a hopeful factor, but somehow now it was beginning to frighten me.

And Ben's silence was getting me down. What did it mean? Had he decided on reflection that he did not want Hartley back? Was he settling down to a happy bachelor life with the dog? Or had he some secret girl friend to whom in relief he had now run away? Was he making complex plans either to rescue her or to take some terrible revenge on me? Had he summoned some roughs, old army friends perhaps, who would arrive any moment to beat me up? Had he gone to a lawyer? Or was he just playing a subtle game, waiting for my nerve to break, waiting for me me to come to to come to him? him? Or perhaps he too had fallen into some kind of entranced nervous apathy, unsure of what he wanted, unsure of what to do? I myself felt at some moment that to be forced to act, even by the police, would be preferable to this empty echoing s.p.a.ce of attentive possibilities. Or perhaps he too had fallen into some kind of entranced nervous apathy, unsure of what he wanted, unsure of what to do? I myself felt at some moment that to be forced to act, even by the police, would be preferable to this empty echoing s.p.a.ce of attentive possibilities.

I was now trying very hard to steel myself to take Hartley to London, to drag her to the car, to delude her by telling her she was going home. I felt the time had come to do this, although I was far from sure that it was the right move. Shruff End might have 'bad vibes' as t.i.tus put it, but it was my home, I was used to it. And here I could communicate quietly with Hartley, there was a thin pure stream of communication, especially when we talked about the past. In an odd way we were at ease together. Surely there must soon be some break-through, some dialectical change. What on earth would I do in London with a distraught weeping Hartley in that awful little flat with the chairs piled on the table and the china not unpacked? To whom whom could we go in London? I did not want to exhibit Hartley to people who, however helpful, would secretly mock her. The fact was I wanted, perhaps we both wanted, someone to look after us, at least someone to be there as a sort of protection and guarantee of ordinariness. t.i.tus and Gilbert might be of little use but simply their presence made the situation more bearable. However, since Rosina's visit, t.i.tus and Gilbert had been in a state of subdued revolt, they were mutinous. I think Ben's silence was upsetting them too, in different ways. They wanted a showdown, a denouement. They wanted an end to the situation which would relieve their minds. Gilbert was simply frightened of Ben, afraid of fights and thuggery. What t.i.tus felt I was unsure. Sometimes I felt terrified of what t.i.tus might be thinking. Since Hartley's arrival I had not talked to him properly. I ought to have done, I wanted to do so, but I had not. It was possible that t.i.tus was in an agony of tension and indecision, wanting and yet not wanting to run to his father, to be reconciled, or even to suffer punishment, to escape from his mother, to escape from me. The possibility of anything so awful in the boy's state of mind made me afraid to probe him when I had so much else to envisage and decide. Meanwhile he had withdrawn, a little sulky, wanting to be wooed. I would woo him, but at present had not the wit or the strength. And I was disappointed in him. I needed his help, his loving support, with Hartley, his ingenuity, his commitment. But he showed plainly that he had, at any rate in this weird context, given up the problem of his mother. He preferred not to reflect upon the obscene embarra.s.sment of her incarceration. He did not want to a.s.sociate himself with me as a fellow gaoler. This was understandable. But he annoyed me by seeming to enjoy himself. He swam, he sang, he sat on the rocks with Gilbert drinking white wine and blackcurrant juice (their latest drink). He behaved like the scrounger he had so proudly denied himself to be. As Gilbert now declared that he was afraid to go shopping by himself, t.i.tus went with him and they bought quant.i.ties of expensive food and drink with my money. They did not run into Ben. Perhaps Ben had gone away? Where to? Whom to? These mysteries did me no good. One form taken by the mutiny of Gilbert and t.i.tus was that they began to suggest that I should do something about Ben. At least Gilbert made the suggestions, but t.i.tus was certainly a.s.sociated with them. could we go in London? I did not want to exhibit Hartley to people who, however helpful, would secretly mock her. The fact was I wanted, perhaps we both wanted, someone to look after us, at least someone to be there as a sort of protection and guarantee of ordinariness. t.i.tus and Gilbert might be of little use but simply their presence made the situation more bearable. However, since Rosina's visit, t.i.tus and Gilbert had been in a state of subdued revolt, they were mutinous. I think Ben's silence was upsetting them too, in different ways. They wanted a showdown, a denouement. They wanted an end to the situation which would relieve their minds. Gilbert was simply frightened of Ben, afraid of fights and thuggery. What t.i.tus felt I was unsure. Sometimes I felt terrified of what t.i.tus might be thinking. Since Hartley's arrival I had not talked to him properly. I ought to have done, I wanted to do so, but I had not. It was possible that t.i.tus was in an agony of tension and indecision, wanting and yet not wanting to run to his father, to be reconciled, or even to suffer punishment, to escape from his mother, to escape from me. The possibility of anything so awful in the boy's state of mind made me afraid to probe him when I had so much else to envisage and decide. Meanwhile he had withdrawn, a little sulky, wanting to be wooed. I would woo him, but at present had not the wit or the strength. And I was disappointed in him. I needed his help, his loving support, with Hartley, his ingenuity, his commitment. But he showed plainly that he had, at any rate in this weird context, given up the problem of his mother. He preferred not to reflect upon the obscene embarra.s.sment of her incarceration. He did not want to a.s.sociate himself with me as a fellow gaoler. This was understandable. But he annoyed me by seeming to enjoy himself. He swam, he sang, he sat on the rocks with Gilbert drinking white wine and blackcurrant juice (their latest drink). He behaved like the scrounger he had so proudly denied himself to be. As Gilbert now declared that he was afraid to go shopping by himself, t.i.tus went with him and they bought quant.i.ties of expensive food and drink with my money. They did not run into Ben. Perhaps Ben had gone away? Where to? Whom to? These mysteries did me no good. One form taken by the mutiny of Gilbert and t.i.tus was that they began to suggest that I should do something about Ben. At least Gilbert made the suggestions, but t.i.tus was certainly a.s.sociated with them. What What I was to do was not so clear, but they wanted an initiative. There was by now a little less singing, a little more sitting in the kitchen and plotting; and even in the midst of my other preoccupations and miseries I felt jealousy, stupid blank jealousy, when I saw those two heads together, and they fell nervously silent as I came in. They ran out all the time to look for letters. Gilbert even bought a large square basket which he mounted on stones inside the dog kennel to be sure that any letters which came would not get wet or blow away. I avoided discussion, since I so much feared to hear t.i.tus announce that he would go over to Nibletts to spy out the land. What if t.i.tus went to Nibletts and did not return? Of course I did not tell the others about Rosina's crazy boast, which I decided on reflection was intended simply to annoy me. Nor had I stopped thinking about what else she had told me, although I was trying hard to dismiss her from my mind. I hoped she had gone back to London. Towards the evening of that day I got as far as concluding that if Ben made no move I would do I was to do was not so clear, but they wanted an initiative. There was by now a little less singing, a little more sitting in the kitchen and plotting; and even in the midst of my other preoccupations and miseries I felt jealousy, stupid blank jealousy, when I saw those two heads together, and they fell nervously silent as I came in. They ran out all the time to look for letters. Gilbert even bought a large square basket which he mounted on stones inside the dog kennel to be sure that any letters which came would not get wet or blow away. I avoided discussion, since I so much feared to hear t.i.tus announce that he would go over to Nibletts to spy out the land. What if t.i.tus went to Nibletts and did not return? Of course I did not tell the others about Rosina's crazy boast, which I decided on reflection was intended simply to annoy me. Nor had I stopped thinking about what else she had told me, although I was trying hard to dismiss her from my mind. I hoped she had gone back to London. Towards the evening of that day I got as far as concluding that if Ben made no move I would do something something on the next day: something clarificatory, something decisive; although I could not yet see quite what this liberating move would be. Most probably I would take Hartley and t.i.tus to London. I had waited long enough upon Hartley's will, and I was beginning to believe that she wanted me to force her. When I felt that I was nearly desperate enough to decide, I felt some relief. But the tomorrow upon which I was to make my decision never, in the form in which I had envisaged it, arrived. on the next day: something clarificatory, something decisive; although I could not yet see quite what this liberating move would be. Most probably I would take Hartley and t.i.tus to London. I had waited long enough upon Hartley's will, and I was beginning to believe that she wanted me to force her. When I felt that I was nearly desperate enough to decide, I felt some relief. But the tomorrow upon which I was to make my decision never, in the form in which I had envisaged it, arrived.

Towards six-thirty in the evening the thick blue air seemed to be getting darker and more stifling, although the sun was bravely s.h.i.+ning and the sky was unflecked. It was as if the sun were s.h.i.+ning through a mist, but a mist made out of the dark blue globules of the sky itself. I remember the lurid impression of that evening, the vivid dark light, the brilliant vibrating colours of the rocks, of the gra.s.s on the other side of the road, of Gilbert's yellow car. There was no breath of wind, not the softest breeze. The sea was menacingly quiet, utterly smooth, gla.s.sy, glossy, oily, a uniform azure. Then there were silent flashes, extraordinary lightings up of the whole horizon, like vast distant fireworks or some weird atomic experiment. Not a cloud, not a sound of thunder, just these huge displays of quick silent yellowish-white light.

I had been talking to Hartley, talking about the past, enjoying that thin pure line of easy communication with her which I could persuade myself was becoming deeper and wider. It was true that, so far as we did communicate, the ease of it was exceptional, the flavour unique. Here I could post the banner of my love, hope gradually to convince. Loving her took at this time so intensely the form of pity, compa.s.sion, an absolute desire to cherish, to cure; to stir the desire for happiness and to make it grow where it had not been before. To this end I tried cunningly to exclude the idea of a return home, picturing it casually as something now now impossible; and meanwhile let Hartley continue to calm herself by an illusion of a return which she would soon see as unthinkable and as something which she no longer wanted. Surrept.i.tiously I increased the pressure and the emphasis. My policy of gradualism had been right and would shortly be confirmed as successful. Hartley went on saying that she must go back to her husband, but she said it fairly calmly and it seemed to me less often and the words sounded emptier. I left her at last. I did not now bother to lock her door during the day. Her desire to hide, to hide from Gilbert and above all from t.i.tus would keep her effectively enclosed by day. In any case, how far could she run undiscovered? The night despairs were another matter. The front doorbell rang. As I came down into the hall I saw the wire quivering just before I heard the bland clangour of the bell in the kitchen. I thought: Ben. And I wondered: alone? I moved to the door quickly and incautiously to forestall my fear. I did not put the door on the chain but opened it wide at once. The man standing outside was my cousin James. impossible; and meanwhile let Hartley continue to calm herself by an illusion of a return which she would soon see as unthinkable and as something which she no longer wanted. Surrept.i.tiously I increased the pressure and the emphasis. My policy of gradualism had been right and would shortly be confirmed as successful. Hartley went on saying that she must go back to her husband, but she said it fairly calmly and it seemed to me less often and the words sounded emptier. I left her at last. I did not now bother to lock her door during the day. Her desire to hide, to hide from Gilbert and above all from t.i.tus would keep her effectively enclosed by day. In any case, how far could she run undiscovered? The night despairs were another matter. The front doorbell rang. As I came down into the hall I saw the wire quivering just before I heard the bland clangour of the bell in the kitchen. I thought: Ben. And I wondered: alone? I moved to the door quickly and incautiously to forestall my fear. I did not put the door on the chain but opened it wide at once. The man standing outside was my cousin James.

James was smiling, with the calm inane self-satisfied smile which he sometimes put on. He was carrying a suitcase. I could see his Bentley on the road parked next to Gilbert's Volkswagen.

'James! What on earth are you doing here!'

'Have you forgotten? It's Whit weekend. You invited me.'

'You invited yourself. And of course I've forgotten.'

'Do you want me to go away?'

'Nonocome infor a moment anyway.'

I felt confused, exasperated, profoundly startled. My cousin was always an unnerving portent. His presence in the house would change everything, even the kettle. I could not tolerate or manage James here, I could not continue to run my life with him upon the scene.

He walked in and put down his suitcase, looking around him with curiosity. 'I like your situation. And that bay with the spherical boulders is quite extraordinary. I came by the coast road of course.'

'Of course.'

'That huge rock out in the sea covered with guillemotsyou know where I mean?'

'No.'

'Haven't you seen it? It'sWell, never mind. I see there's a martello tower. Does that belong to you too?'

'Yes.'

'I see the point of this place. What's the date of the house?'

'Oh, I don't know, nineteen hundred, earlier, later. Oh G.o.d.'

'What's the matter? Look, I'm sorry, I ought to have written to warn you. I tried to ring up but I gather you're not on the 'phone. I don't have to stay here, I pa.s.sed quite a nice-looking hotel a mile or two backAre you all right, Charles?'

'Come into the kitchen.'

Because of the weird light it was rather dark in the kitchen. Just as we entered, Gilbert and t.i.tus came in from outside, the strange silent midsummer lightning signalling behind them. Introductions were inescapable, 'Oh h.e.l.lo. This is my cousin James who's just dropped by. Gilbert Opian. And this is a young friend of mine, t.i.tus. There's no one else here, this is our complement.' As I said this I laid my finger as if by accident upon my lips. I hoped it was not too dark for them to see.

't.i.tus,' said James, 'so you've come, good.'

'What do you mean?' I said to James. 'You don't know know him, do you?' him, do you?'

I saw that t.i.tus was staring at James almost as if he recognized him.

'No, but you mentioned his name to meremember?'

The Sea, The Sea Part 20

You're reading novel The Sea, The Sea Part 20 online at LightNovelFree.com. You can use the follow function to bookmark your favorite novel ( Only for registered users ). If you find any errors ( broken links, can't load photos, etc.. ), Please let us know so we can fix it as soon as possible. And when you start a conversation or debate about a certain topic with other people, please do not offend them just because you don't like their opinions.


The Sea, The Sea Part 20 summary

You're reading The Sea, The Sea Part 20. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Iris Murdoch already has 797 views.

It's great if you read and follow any novel on our website. We promise you that we'll bring you the latest, hottest novel everyday and FREE.

LightNovelFree.com is a most smartest website for reading novel online, it can automatic resize images to fit your pc screen, even on your mobile. Experience now by using your smartphone and access to LightNovelFree.com