Jackson's Dilemma (34 page)

Owen, abandoning his speech, now exclaimed, ‘To the garden, to the garden!’ Everyone, laughing and jumbling, were now up on their feet, when Benet cried, ‘Wait! We must have a toast to Uncle Tim!’

All glasses were lifted and clinked and the cry was ‘Uncle Tim!’, followed in some cases by murmurs of ‘God rest him!’ or ‘Dear old Tim, bless him!’ Those who had known him well had tears in their eyes.

After that there was a stampede through the drawing room and out into the garden where, following tradition, the guests scattered into the dark. The stars, since it was already later in the season, were less brilliantly milky, more like a very dim carpet upon which formations more familiarly appeared. The dewy grass was wetter, the bats were fewer, the weird cries of owls came less often from the huge Wellingtonias, toward which Owen looked sadly as he saw Tuan propelling Rosalind in that direction. Edward and Anna strolled away arm-in-arm towards the rose garden, its little fountain now audible in the darkness. Owen, foiled, took charge of Mildred, who now was quietly weeping. They sat down at the far end of the terrace. Benet looked round for Jackson: but Jackson was not to be seen. Benet, breathing deeply in the moist air, walked slowly on towards the end of the lawn, alone.

Rosalind and Tuan were locked together in the big four-poster in the ‘old part’ of Penndean. After coming in from the garden they had hurried to their bed, avoiding the others. Now it was like being in a warm very quietly moving sea, or like very slow dancers in a slow sleepy waltz. Or like world class skating, as Tuan had remarked, except that it was all in the same place. She had skated when she was younger. Could Tuan skate? She had never asked him! How lovely, if they could skate together in Kensington Gardens! As it was, everything that should have happened between them had happened between them. It was like a fairy tale or a miracle or some absolute spiritual formation of new being, like entering a huge beautiful holy house. Before they went out to the Register Office they had both instinctively knelt down, as in some holy chivalry. They had by then passed the stage of ‘are you sure’, wherein each one, quite sure, was anxiously testing the strength of the other. Tuan was indeed so absolutely a knight, Rosalind found herself positively seeing, in and out of her dreams, his glowing silver armour and his noble helmeted head. I have found him, she thought, I have
found
him! He held her so gently and so firmly, he so pure in heart, somehow like a child, but so courageous and so loving. The future, ahead, yes, so much of future to come, and children, wonderful children whom we both have made. All this, she herself, whom she had fought for and won, continuously bathing his wounds. And she had fought for him too, when suddenly, in a flash of lightning, she saw, and was then afraid that it was too late. So many strange things had brought them together, so many divine accidents. Really Marian had brought her to him, and he saying he would call Rosalind, and how Marian and I slept, and how Tuan looked at me in my sleep, and Marian ran away, and then Tuan and I held hands and kissed, and then Tuan said he had so much darkness and I must go away and then he told me his dreadful story about the dog when everything else was nightmare, and he was weeping, and he sent me away and I went away and I came back and he said more things about how Marian had gone and I was free to move into a space really my own and he meant I was free to marry Edward, and he threw me out and I came again and he said at last, ‘You have won, dear child,’ and we went to bed together, and we lay down as we are lying down now. But I know that he has still strange pains which he tries to conceal from me, and I have heard him murmuring Hebrew in his sleep and I think that pain will never altogether go away, and I shall bind my love closer and closer about him, as I am binding it now, and holding him closer and closer with my love.

And Tuan, lying so closely bound beside her was thinking, whatever sort of girl I have married, I have married the right one, that I absolutely love, and who loves me and can understand my tears, and of course the pains will go on and in time may be different but will not go - and oh my dear dear parents - And more and more I shall devote myself to holy things, my Maimonides, my Spinoza, my Scholem - hmmm, I wonder if Rosalind will inherit Penndean, or will Benet give it to Marian or to Jackson or the Quakers?

 

 

 

 

It was indeed late when Edward and Anna got back to Hatting. They had not spoken to each other upon the short drive, but at one point Edward’s left hand sought Anna’s right. Then there was the quiet entry through the front door of the silent house, and the tip-toe mounting of the soft-carpeted stairs and along the corridor to their bedroom. Montague and Millie slept downstairs. Bran slept, at his own wish, at the farther end of the house. Reaching their bedroom they dropped their light coats upon the floor and sat upon the huge bed embracing each other. After that, sitting cross-legged, they discoursed, as Anna observed, in slow tones, like Indian gods. Beneath their soft loving voices their thoughts ran to and fro like mice. Anna thrust Edward away a little, gazing at him as if with a fresh amazement. They talked at first about Jackson, about his situation, how did Benet get him back, or did he come, and so on, and then about Benet, was he happy, was he frightened? And how utterly happy Rosalind looked, fainting with happiness, and how handsome Tuan was but probably penniless, something must be done, and how serious Mildred looked when she was talking and listening to Jackson about India and no doubt Jackson had an Indian streak himself. Anna, stroking her hand gently down Edward’s pale hawkish face, thought how noble and how tragic he looked and how difficult of access even now, he could look so far away. He is counting up the problems. He had talked a little to her about Randall, she had waited anxiously and silently for that. Of course she had known, as others had, about Randall, but without details. What Edward now had to say to her was little more than what she had known before, and then perhaps forever nothing, maybe it was better so. Edward talked to Bran now more than she did. How strange, she thought, I believed that I would have to go through life deceiving my son. Will there be new deceptions? Surely not she prayed. All those photos and letters, even a letter from the doctor, she had burnt some of them but not all - she had left them for Bran to discover. And then Bran threw the stone through the window, and did not that begin everything. Oh now let them all be happiness - happiness and ponies - but also Edward’s school - they would have to see - how much I wished I could believe in God! Mistress of Hatting, yes - yes! My love for Edward increases, it burns, I love him with all my heart, I would fight for him like a tiger. But I shall have as the years go by to be silent, to be discreet, even before him, even before Bran. Oh Lewen, Lewen, from the grave, you must forgive us - I know that you will.

As they undressed and lay down, turning out the light and seeking each other in the dark, Edward’s thoughts, less orderly than those of his wife, wandered about. He thought of course about Randall, perhaps she was thinking about Randall too. Now she is asleep. I can hear the waves as they were - and again when I went the
second
time. I shall not go there again ever. I have not told her about
that,
I have told no one about
that,
as if I were to drown myself at last - but now I have her - thank heavens I came to them, oh thank God, tears, tears - and now I am back as it were at the start when I had her in my arms and she lied to me and said she was already pregnant with Lewen’s child, and I understood all the lies and all about her and about everything and I had to give it all up - and I felt terrible grief but also I felt noble and how I must do what was right for her and for Lewen - oh Lewen, where are you now, wise and good Lewen, you must pardon us for Bran’s sake too - Oh Bran, may he love me, may he not ever hate me. He will grow to be a man - oh what then? - but now for their sake and for my own - How lovely it was in the garden at Penn after dinner when we walked arm-in-arm and saw the little fountain and heard it so softly in the night and sighed so deeply and kissed each other and were alone - how’s Bran now, he must be asleep - I must sleep too - it is nearly morning - oh God have mercy upon us.

 

 

 

 

Meanwhile, at the Sea Kings, Mildred was sitting upon Owen’s bed, while Owen, wearing only pants and a shirt, was sitting beside the dressing table, pouring more whisky into his glass. His sturdy nose was red, his pale blue eyes were watery, his cupid lips were pouting, his fine untidy hair, sweeping across his brow, was chaotically visible in the mirror behind him. Still filled with the evening’s exaltations and feeling that the night would never end they had of course been arguing. How extremely handsome he is, Mildred was thinking.

Returning to an earlier topic, Owen was saying, ‘You were talking to Jackson, you were chatting away to him, your mouth was opening and closing - ’

‘Now look here,’ said Mildred, ‘I’m sure I said nothing, or almost nothing - He poured it all into my ears, he was talking about remorse and forgiveness and-he has such beautiful eyes and - ’

‘Confound the blighter,’ said Owen, ‘I suspect he can make himself invisible, he is something out of Kafka. I had to forgive him for vanishing. You are rather beautiful tonight. I think I said that before. I suspect if you pulled back the curtains you would see the dawn.’

‘I am sure it is already with us,’ said Mildred, shaking out her skirt. For ordinary everyday life she wore longish brown skirts, for rare special evenings she wore an old familiar very long dark blue real silk dress, with a lapis-lazuli brooch holding a glimpse of white lace. Now for Owen alone she had undone her long dark brown hair, taking out the tortoiseshell combs one by one and letting her hair fall down on either side of her pale thin face. She thought, as usual, of the Lady of Shalott. She thought I really must go off to bed, I can’t go on sitting here looking at this dear big animal!

Owen, picking up her thought, said, ‘Don’t go, have some more whisky.’

‘I’ve had some more whisky. And you should stop. You won’t be able to drive.’

‘Of course I will. As for that fellow, he is bewitching you. As for you, you play the mouse while filled with passion, and you talk too. I wish he would bewitch me. The gods of India will scoop you up in the end.’

Mildred stood up, then stooped to pick up her combs which had fallen to the floor. Her thick long glossy brown hair fell down past her shoulders to her waist. She began to gather it together and toss it behind her.

‘Well, goodnight - Do stop drinking.’

‘Wait, wait, pale maiden. Let me see if I can get up. Yes, I can. Let me blunder across the space between us.’ Only a little taller, he kissed her, upon her closed eyelids, then on her mouth.

‘Oh my darling, do go to bed.’

‘You love me.’

‘I love you. Goodnight, dear beast. If you can fall onto the bed, I can turn off the light.’

‘No, no, first I go to the loo, then I get into the bed, then I turn out the light, I promise you.’

 

Mildred padded away, softly closing the door and gliding quietly down the corridor. She entered her bedroom, turned on all the lights, and began to undress. She undid the old brooch, extracted the lace, and pulled her long dress over her head and dropped it to the floor and stepped out of it, then removed her petticoat, shoes, stockings, knickers and vest. Then she put on an old long-faded cotton nightdress, white but covered by very pale pink flowers. The curtains were closed. She went to the window and cautiously drew the curtains a little apart. Yes, it was certainly dawn! The sudden sight, in mist, of nearby woodland and far hills, startled her, and she hastily closed the curtains. She thought, how strange, Owen and I are together, like quite different furry animals, well at least we are both furry. How long, how very long, we have known each other. Oh how I love him, I love him so much.

Pulling the sheet and blankets back she sat on the bed. She was suddenly trying to remember what Jackson had said.
Jackson
. And what had
she
said, had she said anything? It was already fading, of course she was so tired, she would think it out tomorrow. Only it is tomorrow. She put her hand on her heart. Was it really true at last, that she might be a woman priest, and hold the Chalice in her hands? How sleepy she felt now and how happy. Lucas would ordain her. They would live among the poor. And the Indian gods would come to her too, indeed they were already with her, the beautiful powerful ones whom she knew so well, whose feet she kissed. Krishna dances and the cobra stretches his hood and the little boy shall be among the Greek gods too. Oh all pure and loving ones be with me and forgive me for my sins, and I shall hold the Chalice which is the Grail. She slipped down, kneeling beside the bed, her hands clasped, her eyes filling with tears, and she found that words were coming to her, holy words, all mixed up, repeated again and again, oh Christ, my lord and my god, God is love, let me be worthy,
dominus et deus.