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Authors: Iris Murdoch

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BOOK: A Severed Head
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Twenty-three

 

Once it had been settled that I should go on an embassy to Pelham Crescent I wanted to put it off as long as possible. When it came to it I was scared stiff. It was not just that I was positively frightened at the idea of perhaps seeing Honor again, and that when I pictured being in the same room with her my whole body became cold and rigid. It was also that this embassy represented in all probability my last chance. My last chance of what I was not very clear about, but certainly fear, curiosity, expectation, even hope clung about the prospect of the visit. Though if I believed in a miracle I could not at all conceive what that miracle might be. So it was that I played a little for time. I could, in the darkness and uncertainty into which we had been plunged by the mute withdrawal of the other two, just about do with, live with, the image of Honor: an image which might however become for me at any moment altogether a Medusa. For deprived utterly of hope I did not see how I could manage; and feared like death that utter deprivation.

But Antonia was impatient, and I could get from her a grace of only three days. Resolved at last, she wanted to make a quick end. Our discussion had taken place on a Monday. It was agreed that I should write to Palmer simply suggesting that I should come to see him at six o

clock on the following Thursday. This gave him time to reply; and in fact I received a postcard, brief but bland, by return to say that the time was suitable. By nine o

clock on the Wednesday evening I was already in a state of almost unbearable agitation and could settle to nothing. Not even a recently discovered book of Japanese legends, wherein brothers and sisters regularly lay together and procreated dragons, could retain my attention; and I would at last in desperation have gone to the cinema, only I feared that at the sight of anything sad or touching I might break into audible groans. Antonia was equally restless and had been in a mood of nervous irritation throughout the afternoon. We both wandered morosely about the house passing and re-passing each other, profoundly connected yet unable to touch, in a silent mutually hostile way.

I was worried that I had heard nothing from Georgie, who had not yet replied to my letter. Pain at this neglect, a particular pain separable from my other troubles, persisted, and I had had the intention of writing to her again that very evening. But when the time came I was unable to. The figure of Honor stood between us. I could not see Georgie any more. I could not, at that moment, even distantly envisage going to call on her; and to write now without suggesting a meeting seemed insuperably difficult. So I postponed thinking about Georgie, as indeed I was now postponing everything, until after my visit to Pelham Crescent.

I had just made another round of the house and was wondering if I could decently go to bed and whether if I did I would have another attack of asthma. Antonia had now got the entire contents of the linen cupboard out on to the stairs and was quite unnecessarily folding and sorting them. I stood on the landing for a while and watched her in silence. The telephone rang.


I

ll go,

I said, and took a long stride down over the piles of linen.

Be
careful
,

said Antonia. I entered the drawing-room, closed the door, and picked up the receiver, as I always did now, with the expectation of something strange. It was Alexander.

I was pleased to hear his voice.

Hello, you ruffian,

I said.

Why are you neglecting us? Antonia

s dying to see you. You

ve no idea how dull we

ve become. Do come and cheer us up.

Alexander sounded confused. He said, yes, he

d love to come and he was sorry he

d been elusive, but first of all he had something important to tell me and he had better not beat about the bush.


Beating about the bush,

I said,

is exactly what you
are
doing. What is it?


I

m going to get married.

I was shaken. I said,

Well done, at last, brother. Who is she? Do I know her?


Well, you do, actually,

said Alexander.

It

s Georgie.

I laid the phone down on the table. Distantly I could hear Alexander talking still. I put my hand over my face.

With a hideous rush, like blood returning to a crushed limb, I was invaded by my old love for Georgie; and in that instant I realized how very much I had all the same, all the same, all the same, relied upon her faithfulness. I had been mad.

I picked up the phone again and said,

Sorry, I missed that last bit.


I said, I suppose it

s no use hoping that you won

t be displeased, even angry. But I hope too that in the end you

ll wish us luck. Do you want to see us, or would you prefer not?


I

ll wish you luck now,

I said,

and of course I want to see you. I can

t think why you imagine I

d be displeased. I

m afraid I had nothing left for Georgie except a bad conscience. You

re a cure for both of us. Honestly, I

m delighted.

With a fluency that amazed me lies and treachery streamed from my lips. I was in extreme pain.


You

re an ace, Martin,

said Alexander.

Would you mind breaking it to Antonia?


I

ll tell her surely,

I said.

But won

t you both come round to see us now, this evening? Where are you, anyway? Is Georgie with you?

I felt such misery, and such frenzy, at the news, I wanted now only to fall upon the knife, to get the major shock over as rapidly as possible.


Yes, she

s here,

said Alexander,

and sends her love.

He muffled the phone for a moment and I could hear him saying something indistinguishable.

We

re at Gloucester Road station in fact. We

ve got to make another phone call, but we could be with you in ten minutes if you

d really like to see us.

Alexander was obviously eager to get it over too.


Of course we would,

I said.

It

s an occasion for champagne. Come as soon as you can. Tell Georgie I

m very pleased with you both!


Thanks, Martin,

said Alexander.

I thought you

d blow me out of the water.


Admit you

re a fast worker!

I heard Alexander

s relieved laugh at the other end.

I knew what I wanted for once.

I replaced the receiver and stood there by the table staring out at the black uncurtained garden. It had stopped raining and in the silence I could hear the water dripping from the magnolia. Antonia came in.

She saw my face and said,

Christ, what is it?


My dear brother Alexander is getting married to Georgie Hands.


No
!

said Antonia. Struck by the vehemence of that
no
, its tone of utter bewildered rejection, I looked at her face. It had become in an instant a wrinkled mask of pain. Antonia minded.

I said,

Well, I expect it

s all for the best. You ought to be pleased. It removes temptations from my path.

Antonia drew her breath in sharply as if for an exclamation. But she said nothing. She turned her head away and I thought for a moment that she was going to burst into tears. I was surprised at her reaction. She must have laid more store than I realized by her tender sentimental friendship with my brother. But of course she was in an over-excited state.

I said,

I asked them to come round now to drink some champagne. They

re at Gloucester Road. They should be arriving in a few minutes. I hope that

s all right by you.


You asked them round now?

said Antonia. Her face, screwed up with distress and anger, was positively ugly.

You perfect fool! Have you no consideration? I

m going out.

She turned to the door.


Dear Antonia,

I said,

don

t be cross with me. I didn

t know you

d mind. I should have asked you. I

ll entertain them alone if you like. But do please stay.

She stared at me for a moment almost with hatred. Then she left the room, clapping the door sharply to behind her. I heard her feet going heavily up the stairs. I waited, mastering a physical pain of jealousy so severe that it almost doubled me up. The bell rang. I went out into the hall.

Wrapped in their big overcoats, against the damp blue night whose air blew warm and fragrant in through the doorway, they stood tall and indistinguishably close together.

Come in, you disgraceful pair,

I said.

They entered in silence and I helped them off with their coats. Alexander was wearing a stiff smile which must have been a duplicate of my own. I led the way into the drawing-room and by the fireplace we spread out and looked at each other

s faces. It was, for all three, an effort. The shock was extreme. I could see Georgie trying to control a grimacing smile which kept returning. She was not able to prevent the blood from rushing visibly to redden her two cheeks. After the first quick glance she avoided my eye. Alexander watched us both tensely, ruefully; but he had, and could not conceal, the air of a successful man.


Well, Martin,

he said,

so you forgive us?


Of course, lunatics,

I said.

There

s nothing to forgive.

I went forward and kissed Georgie on her burning cheek. It was not easy. I felt her shiver. I shook Alexander by the hand. I said,

You

re bloody lucky.


I know it,

he said humbly, and cast a quick look at Georgie. He added,

Life can be very sudden, can

t it? But the fastest things are often the surest things. Once we got the idea we needed little convincing!

I had no desire for these sentiments and confidences. I wanted to get past the moment of hearing Georgie

s voice. I turned and said to her more roughly than I had intended,

Come on, Georgie, speak up. It

s only your old friend Martin. So my headlong brother carried you off?


Yes,

said Georgie in a low tone, still not looking at me.


Well, you

re lucky too,

I said.

Come and sit by the fire and we

ll all have some champagne. And you can stop looking as if you

d been caught stealing the till.

I plucked Georgie

s sleeve and drew her to the sofa. This time I was really magnificent. They both sat down.

Alexander said,

We

ll soon stop looking hangdog. We

re terribly glad we

ve told you. Where

s Antonia? Have you told her?


Yes, indeed,

I said.

She

s delighted too. She

s just powdering her nose. She

ll be down in a minute.

I hoped this was true.

Georgie was looking at Alexander. She stretched out her long legs in a deliberate attempt to relax. Her breath came slowly and deeply. She was thinner and paler, wearing a black tweed pinafore dress with a high-necked striped blouse. Her hair, cascaded on top and carefully pinned, was immaculate. She seemed, with so much neatness, beautifully older. Alexander, with a cautious veiled tenderness, returned her look. The sense of my exclusion was for a moment almost unbearable; and I had a sudden repetition of an impression which I had had before in relation to Palmer and Antonia. They simply wanted me out of the way. I had to be somehow, tenderly, carefully, lovingly, but relentlessly dealt with before they could pass me by and get on with their lives together.

BOOK: A Severed Head
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