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Authors: Iris Murdoch

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‘I love the way you say, “Suppose someone were to say X”, instead of just saying X! I expect it’s your philosophical training. I don’t know, Rupert. Perhaps I just want to get away from Tallis, to
escape.
Oh God, if only it were simple.’
‘Suppose someone—Well, what about divorce?’
‘You are right to administer shocks.’
‘Yes, but what about it?’
‘Everything about divorce is ugly and destructive and horrible.’
‘Try to think clearly, Morgan. If you really want to get away from Tallis—which I doubt actually—you must be fair to him too. His life is passing as well as yours. And he’s put up with a pretty unclear situation in a very patient way.’
‘Yes, yes. I want to be honest and just. How’s it done, Rupert?’
‘Ultimately through love, my dear. Love is the last and secret name of all the virtues.’
‘That’s pretty. Do you say that in your book? But how can an obsession be changed into love? I can’t
see
Tallis any more. He’s just something hung round my neck. I think love in your sense is too hard, Rupert. Give me an intermediate goal. What can I try to do that I might conceivably manage to do?’
‘Be calm. Calm of mind is so terribly important. Be quiet and let yourself sink. Sink into the depths of your own spirit and lose your fretful ego there.’
‘Rupert, you are marvellous. I’m dying to read your book. But how can I be calm when I’m living with the prospect of seeing Tallis?’
‘Go and see him and get it over.’
‘Oh not yet, not yet, Rupert—’
‘Yes, child?’
‘I did a very caddish thing to Tallis. I don’t mean carrying on with Julius, that was a catastrophe but not caddish. I took some of Tallis’s money.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘We had a joint bank account. Idiotic thing to have of course. It was rather more my money than his. But when I decided to stay in America I pretty well cleaned it out.’
‘How much do you owe him?’
‘About four hundred pounds.’
‘You must pay it.’
‘I haven’t got it, Rupert. I saved quite a lot at Dibbins but I spent it all dilly dallying on the West Coast and in Vermont trying to make up my mind to come home. And I had to pay for—oh various things—and—’
‘I’ll lend it to you.’
‘Rupert, I didn’t really mean to bring this up—’
‘Look, Morgan, don’t worry about
money,
for Christ’s sake. I mean don’t worry about borrowing it from me. I’ve got plenty. And I am your brother.’
‘You’re my angel. I’m sorry. I feel awful—’
‘If you want to be able to
think
you must pay the debt. Any trouble to do with money confuses the mind.’
‘You’re right. I didn’t really reflect about it in America. Since I got back it’s been tormenting me more and more. But it seems—’
‘Oh don’t be silly, Morgan! Look, I’ll write you a cheque straightaway. Do you want any more money? I can easily let you have more.’
‘No, Rupert, just that. I will pay you back. And I’m very very grateful. I won’t say more. You must know how I feel. And there’s one other thing, Rupert.’
‘What?’
‘Would you mind not telling Hilda?’
‘Not telling her—’
‘About the loan. You see, I never told her about the original thing. Oh I
will
tell her. But I feel so damned ashamed—and you know I’ve always—all my life—been afraid of Hilda’s disapproval. ’
‘You should tell her. But, all right, I won’t.’
‘Thank you, Rupert. You see, she’d hate
this
much more than the love affair. But I will tell.’ Morgan had put her glass down and drawn an upright chair close up against the desk, staring at Rupert in the half light. ‘So you doubt if I really want to get away from Tallis? And you think I must see him?’
‘Yes. And soon. And not here. On his territory. Write to him, Morgan. You needn’t say much in the letter. Say you’ll come. You know he’ll be very gentle.’
‘Don’t Rupert,
don’t, don’t
—’
‘You’ve got to decide what sort of person you want to be—’
‘The thought of even writing to him makes me feel giddy. And the thought of his gentleness makes me want to vomit. And the idea of going into his house—Tallis oughtn’t to have a house—sorry, I’m talking nonsense. Leonard’s there now too, isn’t he. God, I don’t want to see Leonard either. I couldn’t stand the relation between Leonard and Tallis. It’s so unnatural for a man to love his father. Sorry, Rupert, I’m just crazed. You’re quite right to reproach me but I’m afraid I simply enjoy your reproaches. They comfort me. They don’t connect with any real possibility of change at all. How very peculiar one’s mind is. There’s no foothold in it, no leverage, no way of changing oneself into a responsible just being. One’s lost in one’s own psyche. It stretches away and away to the ends of the world and it’s soft and sticky and warm. There’s nothing real, no hard parts, no centre. The only reality is just—immediate things—like—oh like what—like this.’ Morgan stretched out her hand. She picked up a green oblong paperweight off the desk and laid it against her brow. There was a moment’s silence. She lowered her hand and began examining the paperweight. ‘How pretty this is. It’s some kind of mineral, isn’t it. Such a marvellous swirly grain.’
‘It’s malachite. Keep it. It’s yours.’
‘Oh Rupert—dear—you mustn’t—’
‘I’ve had it since I was a child. I’d like to give it to you.’
‘It must be so precious—I—thank you, Rupert, I’ll keep it. You are inconceivably good to me, my dear—you have been so good to me, you and Hilda. Perhaps we should put the light on, Rupert.’ Morgan got up.
There was a sound behind them and the door began to open slowly. A tall pale-clad figure was seen standing in the gloom in the doorway. Morgan gave a little shriek and retreated to the window. ‘Switch on the light, please,’ said Rupert in a sharp voice. A number of lamps went on and the room sprang into brightness. It was Julius.
Rupert leapt up. Morgan stood with her hands at her throat and the darkened sky behind her. Smiling, Julius closed the door. He said, ‘Hello, Rupert. Good evening, Mrs Browne.’
Rupert said, ‘Look here, Julius, I asked you—’
Julius was still smiling, his eyes glistening. ‘I’m sorry, Rupert. I see I’ve come at an inconvenient moment and I’m disturbing a
tête-à-tête.
I was passing near by and I thought I might manage to catch you alone. It was not an unreasonable idea. I want to change our arrangement for tomorrow. But perhaps I had better go. Forgive me.’ He did not look at Morgan.
‘I’ll see you out,’ said Rupert. He felt very angry. He followed Julius down the stairs, closing the study door behind him.
At the front door the evening light seemed brighter, still intense and not yet quite dark. The garden smelt almost unbearably of limes and honeysuckle. A blackbird was singing. Rupert took Julius’s arm and propelled him to the gate. He said in a low voice, ‘Damn you.’
Julius murmured, ‘Sorry. About tomorrow. I’ll telephone. Good night.’ He turned quickly away in the direction of Gilston Road. Rupert ran back into the house.
Morgan was standing by the window in the same attitude. She lowered her hands and stared at Rupert with a blank expression. Then she said, ‘More Scotch please.’ Rupert picked up her glass. Then she said, ‘Oh
God
why did that have to happen.’
Rupert poured out the whisky. He said, ‘Look, Morgan, you must make a serious effort—’
She said, ‘Rupert, hold onto me, tie me down—’ Then she said, ‘Sorry.’ She moved, gave a short ‘Oh!’ and for a moment Rupert thought she was going to faint. But as he stretched out his hand to her she darted past. The study door flew open and he heard her running feet on the stairs. The front door opened.
Rupert hurried out onto the landing. He saw Morgan reach the gate, look both ways, and then run away along the road to the right.
Rupert returned to his study and put the tumbler on the desk. The piece of green malachite was lying where Morgan had laid it down. He put it away in a drawer. Then he sighed deeply and began to drink the whisky.
CHAPTER EIGHT
 
WHEN MORGAN REACHED THE GATE she knew Julius must have turned to the right, otherwise he would still be in view. She ran to the corner of Gilston Road and looked both ways but could see no sign of him. The whole area suddenly seemed to be portentously empty, lines of parked motor cars, still trees, silent houses. The street lamps had come on but the twilit sky of luminous rich blue could still contain their light. The Boltons was nearer than the Fulham Road. She turned right again and the heels of her sandals clacked upon the warm pavement. She reached Tregunter Road and looked along it, crossed to the other side and looked again. There was no one to be seen, only the desolate road full of ominous empty cars and the globes of street lamps fuzzy and bright in the glowing darkening air. Now the uncertain light was baffling her eyes. Gasping already with breathlessness and fear she began to run along the left hand curve of the Boltons. When she had reached about halfway she had to stop and lean against a wall. She was sobbing for breath and choking with incoherent emotion. Then she began to walk quickly on, touching the creamy stucco balustrades for support. When she had nearly reached the end of the curve she saw a pale figure materializing ahead of her. It was Julius, who had walked up the other side of the oval and was now nearing the intersection with the Old Brompton Road.
‘Julius!’ But the sound she made was like a dream sound, a soft voiceless croak, and he continued to recede, walking rapidly.
Morgan began to run again. She caught him up on the corner of the Old Brompton Road where he had paused and was looking both ways, evidently hoping for a taxi.
‘Julius, it’s me.’
He turned towards her, not surprised, faintly irritated and preoccupied. Then looked again along the road in both directions.
‘Julius—’
‘You should not have run.’
‘What can I do but run,’ she said desperately, ‘run, run, run—’
Julius was still looking for his taxi. The lamplight was reflected on his glasses. He was wearing a yellowish linen jacket and an open-necked shirt. He said, ‘I am very sorry to be in a hurry but I have an appointment.’
‘Why did you come to Priory Grove?’ said Morgan. ‘You must have known you’d see me. You did it on purpose. Why, why?’
‘A not very felicitous impulse. I apologize. Now please excuse me.’ He began to walk away from her along the Old Brompton Road in the direction of South Kensington.
Morgan began to hurry along beside him. There were a number of people on the pavements now and she had to keep falling behind. She found herself gasping again. The sheer physical authority of his presence almost reft her of breath. If only he would be quiet with her, stop somewhere and be quiet and let her experience that presence. She cried, ‘Julius, don’t walk so fast, please, I must talk to you.’
‘What about? There is nothing more to say, is there?’
‘Oh, why did you come. Julius, I’m in despair, please help me, it’s all because of you, you’re the only person who can help me now.’
‘I do not like melodramatic speeches in public places. And what you say is hardly true. And I am in a hurry to be somewhere else. I am sorry.’
‘Please stop walking for a moment, only a moment, and then I promise I’ll go away.’
They stopped and faced each other at the corner of Drayton Gardens. There was a pub on the corner with golden windows and a friendly hubbub coming from within. The sky was almost dark now.
‘Please come into the pub for a moment,’ said Morgan. She felt that if she could only sit down she would be able to think.
‘You know I detest pubs.’
‘Julius,
help me.
’
‘You are a grown-up person and you must help yourself. Or if you must burden somebody with your troubles then burden your sister and her husband who will undoubtedly enjoy it. I am not a nurse.’
‘I know I went away from you, Julius. But you made me leave you. You know you did.’
‘This is a profitless and rather metaphysical discussion. I don’t want to seem hard-hearted, but you are merely upsetting us both and as far as I am concerned the episode you refer to is over.’
‘Perhaps you feel hurt and resentful—’
‘I feel neither. I merely wish you to recognize that you are a person endowed with free will and reason. And to go and exercise these faculties elsewhere.’
‘But I still love you.’
‘You must deal with that problem yourself. There are various well-known methods of extinguishing love.’
‘But I don’t want to extinguish it. Oh Julius, don’t you love me at all any more?’
‘Please keep your voice down. As you will recall, I never once promised you love or said that I loved you.’
‘Oh God, that’s true,’ said Morgan. She gave a raucous tearless sob.

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