A Fairly Honourable Defeat (47 page)
Read A Fairly Honourable Defeat Online
Authors: Iris Murdoch
‘I suspect I’m behaving rashly. I’m putting a burden on you which you probably shouldn’t be expected to bear, even though you asked for it! There must be more pain than pleasure in seeing me like this.’
‘Don’t worry about me. I can carry any burden. We must—come through to calmness—and we can only do it together. Don’t be afraid.’
‘I’m not sure that there isn’t some sort of contradiction in what we’re trying to do. There’s so much drama in these meetings, especially as they have to be secret.’
‘Of course at the moment it makes you feel more agitated. But if I were to go right away, wouldn’t you, forgive me, feel frantic about it?
That
would be drama. We must try to do everything naturally. You must get used to me. Simply getting used to each other, to the feel of each other, will be half the battle. We’ve taken each other for granted for so long and only now do we realize that we are strangers. There is so much to learn. Rupert, we mustn’t just give each other up because of what’s happened. It’s a challenge. It’s something we’ve got to turn into a blessing, into something good. Isn’t that so?’
That
would be drama. We must try to do everything naturally. You must get used to me. Simply getting used to each other, to the feel of each other, will be half the battle. We’ve taken each other for granted for so long and only now do we realize that we are strangers. There is so much to learn. Rupert, we mustn’t just give each other up because of what’s happened. It’s a challenge. It’s something we’ve got to turn into a blessing, into something good. Isn’t that so?’
‘I suppose it is,’ said Rupert dubiously. ‘I certainly don’t want to be just negative about it. That would be, I agree with you, a pity, a waste.’
‘A crime against life, Rupert.’
‘Mmm. Perhaps I don’t think as highly of life as you do. It’s very hard for me to be unemotional now, when I see you like this—’
‘But why ever should you be unemotional? We’ve got to be realistic about the situation. We can’t just ignore emotion! Here, take my hand.’ Morgan stretched out her hand towards him.
Rupert stared at her. Her face was hard, bronzed, stern. She looked like the totem of a bird. He took hold of her hand. The next moment he found that he had bowed his head and was pressing her palm to his forehead. He released her quickly.
‘Oh Rupert, Rupert,’ said Morgan. ‘You remember that time in your room, just after I’d come back, the time when you were so kind to me, when you gave me the malachite paper-weight? I was talking some rigmarole to you, and I said, I forget the exact words, something about “One’s lost inside one’s psyche. There’s nothing real. No hard parts, no centre. There’s just immediate things, like—” And then I picked up the paper-weight and said “Like this,” and pressed it against my forehead. But what I meant, what I really wanted then, was to take hold of your hand instead and do just that with it, what you’ve just done with mine—dear Rupert—’
Rupert got up. He went and inspected the bookcase. ‘I think you’d better go on a world cruise.’
‘Oh my dear, you’re laughing at me, I’m so glad! If only we can both keep our sense of humour we’re certain to be all right!’
‘We need more than a sense of humour in this situation,’ said Rupert. ‘We need a damn clear sense of right and wrong, and I’m not sure that I can provide it.’
During the last few days there had been fleeting, exciting, strange meetings with Rupert, tense lookings forward and endlessly interesting reflections afterwards about what had been said. Morgan felt extreme agitation but singularly little anxiety. It was a time of destiny, not a time of decision. Nothing terrible would happen. She and Rupert had simply to hold hands. The gods would do the rest.
About Rupert’s own state of mind she had been at first a little puzzled. He had sent her several letters. Two of these were extremely sober in tone, full of reluctances and doubts and tender concern that
she
should not suffer. The others seemed entirely mad, crazy violent letters, passionate declarations of love, prostrations, beseechings, prayers. Rupert was certainly good at expressing his love on paper, though when he saw her he was sadly tongue-tied. She destroyed all the letters, as he had instructed her to do, but she could not resist copying out some of the more eloquent passages into a notebook. Rupert was clearly struggling with himself—and equally clearly it was the wild impetuous Rupert, the deep hidden Rupert, that was winning. To have him thus at her feet was unutterably moving to her: she felt pity, compassion, delight. She felt, after a long time, a strange stirring of happiness.
she
should not suffer. The others seemed entirely mad, crazy violent letters, passionate declarations of love, prostrations, beseechings, prayers. Rupert was certainly good at expressing his love on paper, though when he saw her he was sadly tongue-tied. She destroyed all the letters, as he had instructed her to do, but she could not resist copying out some of the more eloquent passages into a notebook. Rupert was clearly struggling with himself—and equally clearly it was the wild impetuous Rupert, the deep hidden Rupert, that was winning. To have him thus at her feet was unutterably moving to her: she felt pity, compassion, delight. She felt, after a long time, a strange stirring of happiness.
Morgan had a capacity for dealing with one thing at a time, and not worrying about, almost not seeing, other features of the situation. Since she felt sure that she
ought
now to give Rupert her entire attention she found no difficulty in not reflecting too urgently about Hilda, about Peter, about Tallis. She was of course aware of these persons and even of their claims, but they seemed to inhabit some quite other time scheme. They were ‘pending’: and Morgan did not feel, when she was with Rupert, that during
those
hours and minutes Hilda really existed somewhere else near by and might be wondering where her husband was. About Julius she thought in a different way. Julius remained large and omnipresent in her consciousness and somehow mysteriously involved in her new feelings. What is it? Morgan wondered. Is it that Julius set me free and
this
is the first manifestation of my freedom? Or is it that accepting Rupert’s love is a kind of revenge? She would dearly have liked to discuss the whole matter with Julius. How
interested
he would be! She would like to have
boasted
to him of her conquest. Only of course that was unthinkable. It was certainly something big and something new: and to have, after Julius, something big and new and utterly unexpected in her life was an invigorating achievement. By it the old love was acted on and changed, and this, she felt, was good. Meanwhile her thoughts about Tallis, and she did think about Tallis, were vague, vague, vague. About Peter she scarcely thought at all.
ought
now to give Rupert her entire attention she found no difficulty in not reflecting too urgently about Hilda, about Peter, about Tallis. She was of course aware of these persons and even of their claims, but they seemed to inhabit some quite other time scheme. They were ‘pending’: and Morgan did not feel, when she was with Rupert, that during
those
hours and minutes Hilda really existed somewhere else near by and might be wondering where her husband was. About Julius she thought in a different way. Julius remained large and omnipresent in her consciousness and somehow mysteriously involved in her new feelings. What is it? Morgan wondered. Is it that Julius set me free and
this
is the first manifestation of my freedom? Or is it that accepting Rupert’s love is a kind of revenge? She would dearly have liked to discuss the whole matter with Julius. How
interested
he would be! She would like to have
boasted
to him of her conquest. Only of course that was unthinkable. It was certainly something big and something new: and to have, after Julius, something big and new and utterly unexpected in her life was an invigorating achievement. By it the old love was acted on and changed, and this, she felt, was good. Meanwhile her thoughts about Tallis, and she did think about Tallis, were vague, vague, vague. About Peter she scarcely thought at all.
It had also become even plainer to her, and she felt this as a sign of her own continued rationality, that as a companion and as a person Rupert suited and matched her more than any man she had ever met. The two other most important men in her life, Julius and Tallis, were, she now saw, simply not designed for her at all. Julius was far too erratic and domineering, and Tallis was too uncertain in his grip and too hopelessly eccentric. Tallis never really
held
me, she thought. Even a prostrate Rupert had over her a kind of authority to which her whole nature could calmly respond. It was, amidst all the hurly burly of Rupert’s passions and her own aroused feelings, the calmness and steadiness of this response which most of all made her feel confident of the rightness of her decision to go on seeing him. She knew that the situation was dangerous but could not feel it to be so. She had a deep trust in Rupert’s sense and in his goodness. Perhaps indeed it was just from here that her warm sense of destiny arose. Rupert would help her to nurse Rupert through.
held
me, she thought. Even a prostrate Rupert had over her a kind of authority to which her whole nature could calmly respond. It was, amidst all the hurly burly of Rupert’s passions and her own aroused feelings, the calmness and steadiness of this response which most of all made her feel confident of the rightness of her decision to go on seeing him. She knew that the situation was dangerous but could not feel it to be so. She had a deep trust in Rupert’s sense and in his goodness. Perhaps indeed it was just from here that her warm sense of destiny arose. Rupert would help her to nurse Rupert through.
In her reflections on the matter Morgan was cheered by finding that there was really no conceivable alternative to the course which she was taking. She based this view, which she had worked out with some care, partly upon her knowledge of her own temperament, partly upon her hypotheses concerning Rupert, and partly upon the feeling that her conjunction with Rupert was the world’s will. Morgan, smiling rather wryly at herself in the mirror, knew perfectly well that she was not capable of passing up this adventure. She had not invited Rupert’s love. She had been astonished by it. But now that she had it she was certainly
not
going to go on a world cruise and trust to find a polite embarrassed cured Rupert waiting for her on her return. Whatever this thing was, she was determined to wade right through the middle of it. Rupert would be cured, of course, at least he would be, must be, somehow changed. And oh in the change, she thought, let nothing be lost! Everything here was precious, precious. Rupert’s own needs must dictate to her. Happily they dictated a similar policy. It would be unthinkable to abandon Rupert in this awful mess. It is rarely enough that two human beings really come within hailing distance of one another. It would be, at the very least, unfair to Rupert not to attempt to make this unexpected proximity into something psychologically and morally workable. We shall be very close friends, she thought, very very close, forever. No one will know. No one will be hurt. It can be done. And she felt that in this resolution life was on her side.
not
going to go on a world cruise and trust to find a polite embarrassed cured Rupert waiting for her on her return. Whatever this thing was, she was determined to wade right through the middle of it. Rupert would be cured, of course, at least he would be, must be, somehow changed. And oh in the change, she thought, let nothing be lost! Everything here was precious, precious. Rupert’s own needs must dictate to her. Happily they dictated a similar policy. It would be unthinkable to abandon Rupert in this awful mess. It is rarely enough that two human beings really come within hailing distance of one another. It would be, at the very least, unfair to Rupert not to attempt to make this unexpected proximity into something psychologically and morally workable. We shall be very close friends, she thought, very very close, forever. No one will know. No one will be hurt. It can be done. And she felt that in this resolution life was on her side.
‘The trouble is I’m getting damnably attached to you,’ said Rupert.
‘I adore your understatements! So indeed I gathered from your letters! I’m pretty attached to you if it comes to that.’
‘I enjoy seeing you so much,’ said Rupert. ‘Of course I always have done and this doesn’t alter it—’
‘I imagine not!’
‘And you are able to be so wonderfully calm—’
‘We have got to get used to each other again, in a new way, in a deeper better way. Rupert, it
is
all right, you know.’
is
all right, you know.’
‘When I hear you say this so quietly and firmly I want to believe you. But I somehow can’t
see
, I can’t
see.
In accepting that you love me—’
see
, I can’t
see.
In accepting that you love me—’
‘And I do love you, Rupert, I do—’
‘And in feeling—moved by you—myself—’
‘There you go again! I can’t help being glad that you’re moved!’
‘I, we, are creating a situation, a dramatic dynamic situation, which we may find we are unable to control.’
‘I think for the present we must simply surrender ourselves to it,’ she said.
‘I’m not so sure,’ said Rupert. ‘There is however one fairly foolproof way of keeping the thing in order.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Tell Hilda about it.’
Morgan was silent. She had been afraid that Rupert would suggest this. And the idea was intolerable. She could not bear Hilda to know. That would rob Rupert’s love of half its sweetness. Her own quite special closeness to Hilda made this the one impossible revelation. Whatever this strange exciting new thing was in her life, Hilda’s knowledge of it would kill it dead. How could she, without revealing all that she felt, dissuade him?
‘It’s just an idea,’ said Rupert. ‘I don’t know myself what exactly—’
‘We
can’t
hurt Hilda like that,’ said Morgan. Hilda’s distress, Hilda’s concern, Hilda’s understanding? No.
can’t
hurt Hilda like that,’ said Morgan. Hilda’s distress, Hilda’s concern, Hilda’s understanding? No.
‘Hilda loves you. In a way, we’re insulting her by assuming she couldn’t bear to know how you feel—’
‘How
I
feel? And what about how
you
feel! No, Rupert, this is the sort of thing people don’t get over. It’s so unpredictable. You might really damage your marriage—I mean more than it is already—I mean, after all, exactly this damage is what we’re trying to avoid, isn’t it?’
I
feel? And what about how
you
feel! No, Rupert, this is the sort of thing people don’t get over. It’s so unpredictable. You might really damage your marriage—I mean more than it is already—I mean, after all, exactly this damage is what we’re trying to avoid, isn’t it?’
‘I’m confused,’ said Rupert. ‘I wish I wasn’t so uncertain about my own emotions. I wish I could be sure I—’
‘Your last letter didn’t sound as if you were uncertain about your own emotions!’
‘My letters are calmer than my mind.’
‘Then your mind must be in trouble!’
‘You are very perceptive, Morgan. My dear, I had better go. I’ll think all these things over.’
‘You’re always saying that! Rupert, you won’t suddenly tell Hilda without warning me?’
‘No, no. You may be right that it’s better not to tell her, or not anyway until things have calmed down.’
‘I’m glad you agree. Oh Rupert, when you have that worried look you look so sweet! Like a dear puzzled animal!’
‘I am a puzzled animal!’
‘And your eyes are so very blue,’ she said. ‘I think the sun must be making your eyes bluer just as it makes your hair fairer.’
Rupert smiled. He said, ‘God, I wish things were simpler. Good-bye, ring me.’
They were standing close to each other beside the door.
Morgan said, ‘Rupert, I’m sorry and perhaps it isn’t fair, but I’ve simply got to take you in my arms.’ She leaned up against him, passing her arms round his waist. Rupert closed his eyes and held her for a while in silence.
CHAPTER NINE
‘WHERE ARE YOU GOING?’ said Hilda.
‘To see Julius,’ said Rupert. ‘He asked me to drop over tonight. Or “drop by” as he puts it. I said yes because I thought you’d be out too. Aren’t you going to that committee meeting?’
‘Yes, but it isn’t till nine-thirty. I forgot to tell you Simon rang up.’
‘What did he want?’
‘Nothing, just to say he couldn’t come round about the bathroom after all. I’m afraid he’s lost interest in our decoration problems. ’
Other books
Bandit by Ellen Miles
Private Dicks by Samantha M. Derr
2 States The Story Of My Marriage by Chetan Bhagat
The Vicar of Wakefield by Oliver Goldsmith
Ashes for Breakfast by Durs Grünbein
Claustrophobia by Tracy Ryan
The HOPE of SPRING by WANDA E. BRUNSTETTER
Thicker Than Water by Maggie Shayne
Clayton (Bourbon & Blood Book 2) by Seraphina Donavan
The Dark Enquiry by Deanna Raybourn
