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Authors: Iris Murdoch

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Chapter Twenty

C
HRISTOPHER BELLMAN had suddenly decided that he absolutely must see Millie. After her wonderful ‘yes' to him, he had felt happy and at peace and quite content not to see her for a while. He had felt her to be delightfully stored up and safe, a prize reserved and labelled, a perfume sealed, and he had returned to his work and felt more serene, he thought, than ever in his life. This serenity had been disturbed by two things. First, he had been extremely excited and upset by the news of the projected rebellion, which had been followed so soon by the news of its cancellation. This sudden glimpse of another Ireland, so close and yet so hidden, filled him with a distress which seemed like guilt. For a second he had felt the warm quick movement of Irish history risen out of books alive, alive-o. He was stirred, magnetized, then disappointed, relieved. The second thing was that Frances, later that afternoon, had told him that she was not going to marry Andrew. Then it became essential to see Millie.

He set off on his bicycle and would have arrived at Rathblane earlier in the evening, only just as he was beginning to get into the mountains he had a puncture. He left the bicycle and walked on, imagining that the distance was shorter than it was. Then it became dark and he missed his way. When, very tired and drenched with rain he at last reached Millie's front door he was extremely startled at being jumped upon by a man suddenly issuing from the doorway. As he picked himself up it seemed that the man, who had now faded into the moonlight, was Pat Dumay. He went in through the open door.

The hall was very dark and as soon as he came in it seemed to him that someone who was standing in the darkness moved away, with a soundless displacement of air, into one of the rooms. Almost at once a moving light was seen up above and Millie appeared, wearing a white gown. She began to glide quickly down the stairs carrying the lamp, her gown flowing out behind her, her loose hair lifted. When she was halfway down the lamp light showed her Christopher and she stopped abruptly.

‘Millie, what on earth's happening? Somebody rushed out at me. I thought it was—'

‘Hello, Christopher', said Millie. ‘Good evening.' She put the lamp down on the stairs and sat down beside it. Then she began to laugh helplessly. She rocked quietly to and fro moaning with laughter.

‘I'm sorry I've come so late,' said Christopher. ‘I'd have got here much earlier only I got a puncture and had to walk the last bit. But, Millie, what—'

Millie stopped laughing. ‘Please, Christopher, would you go into the drawing-room and wait there? I'll put on some clothes and join you in a few minutes.' She went back up the stairs taking the lamp with her and leaving Christopher in darkness.

Christopher fumbled his way to the drawing-room door and fell through it, knocking his head on the big Chinese screen whose position just inside the door he had forgotten. There was no fire and the room smelt of damp textile and turf ash. He stood still until he could discern the squares of the windows and shuffled towards them. There was a sound of scuffling overhead and he thought he heard voices.

Christopher was feeling very confused. During his long walk along the dark mountain road he had been all the time anxious simply to arrive. He disliked walking. The mountains were frightening at night, there were sounds, presences. He had hurried on, looking forward to finding Millie up, a blazing fire, a welcoming glass of whiskey. But the uphill walk had taken such a long time. And now here he was, hustled away, left in the dark and the cold, not looked after in the least. And who was that person who had rushed out of the door and knocked him down? He realized that his arm was hurting from the fall and his head was aching from the encounter with the Chinese screen. Was it Pat Dumay? What was he doing bursting out of the house as if the devil was after him? And who was the mysterious moving figure in the hallway? And what was all that curious scuffling going on in the room above? Christopher felt very puzzled and very ill-used. He pawed several tables looking for matches but only succeeded in overturning something which fell on to the floor with a crash. It sounded as if it was broken. He began to feel his way back to the door.

Before he could reach it Millie came in with the lamp. She was wearing her plainest grey walking-dress with a red woollen shawl over her head. She put the lamp down, carefully pulled the curtains, and then lit another lamp.

‘Please sit down, Christopher.'

‘I'm so sorry, I've broken that vase. I was looking for the matches.'

‘It doesn't matter. It's only Ming or something. For God's sake, Christopher, sit down.'

‘My dear Millie, I'm only too anxious to sit down once you've given me time to take off this extremely damp mackintosh. And I think you might give me some whiskey. I've had a very long walk.'

‘Oh yes, of course, whiskey, there's some in the cupboard. Wait a moment. Here you are.'

‘Millie, is something funny going on here? Was that Pat Dumay? And is there somebody else in the house? I thought I saw someone in the hall as I came in.'

‘No, there's no one here but me. The maids all sleep in the annexe.'

‘What was Pat doing here and why did he push me like that? I nearly broke my arm. I'm sorry I came so late, but as I told you I had a puncture and—'

‘I should think he pushed you like that because you were in his way when he wanted to go out of the door. I'm sorry about your arm and I'm sorry about your bicycle and I'm sorry—'

‘But what did he
want?'

‘What did he want? He wanted me.' Millie laughed. She kicked a piece of the broken vase across the floor and turned to stare at Christopher.

He now took in her elated, excited face, flushed with an onset of laughter or tears. Her hair was plaited in a single plait which she had drawn forward over her shoulder and was convulsively clutching and tugging together with the folds of the red shawl.

‘What on earth do you mean?'

‘He came here to seduce me.'

‘Millie! Surely you hadn't given him any reason to think—'

‘No, of course I hadn't given him any reason to think. I sent him away with a flea in his ear.'

‘But he can hardly just have taken it into his head—'

‘Why shouldn't he just have taken it into his head? Or do you think I'm not attractive enough?'

‘Of course I think you're attractive enough—'

‘Then there's nothing more to explain, is there?'

‘Millie, I'm very surprised indeed.'

‘Well, I can't help that. Nothing happened. I just sent him off. That's why he was in such a hurry. You do believe me, don't you?'

‘Of course I believe you. But as I say—'

‘Why did
you
take it into your head to come, Christopher?'

‘I had to see you. So many things have been happening. I'm sorry to arrive so late, but as I told you—'

‘Yes, yes, your bike. Tell me some of the things that have been happening.'

‘Well—Frances has decided not to marry Andrew.'

‘Ah—' Millie let go of the red shawl which fell in a heap behind her. She moved forward and began quickly picking up the fragments of the Chinese vase. ‘It's so cold in here, we could do with a fire, couldn't we.' She put the fragments of the vase on the table. She advanced on the fireplace and bent to put a match to the paper and sticks. ‘Hand over a couple of those little logs, would you?'

‘Millie, did you hear what I said?'

‘Of course I did, but what am I supposed to say about it? I'm sorry.'

‘It won't make any difference to us, of course. That's what I wanted to come and tell you. I'll manage about Frances.'

‘Have you told Frances about us?'

‘No.'

‘That's just as well, perhaps.'

‘Why—?'

‘Christopher, I think I can't marry you after all.'

‘Millie, what on earth are you talking about?'

‘I just can't. I'd be no use to you.'

‘Is this because of Frances?'

‘No, it's nothing to do with Frances. I just can't do it, it would be wrong. Please forgive me. I should never have let the idea exist at all.'

‘Millie, I can't let you say this—' He got awkwardly and stiffly to his feet, stretching out his arms towards her. Millie continued to stare down at the crackling sticks, whose light flickered on her face, showing a serene exhausted smile.

‘Millie, my darling—' Christopher took her hand, lifting it from her side. It was heavy and limp. Her hand was familiar to him, and as he touched her his fingers became aware of something unusual. He looked down and saw that she was wearing a ring adorned with diamonds and rubies. He recognized the ring.

When Millie saw Christopher's expression and saw what he was looking at, she withdrew her hand with an exclamation and moved away from him.

‘Millie, why are you wearing Andrew's ring?'

She pulled it quickly off and laid it on the table. ‘Because Andrew has been wearing my ring.'

‘I don't understand.'

‘Well, why should you, with such an awful lot going on. I've just seduced your would-be son-in-law. I didn't mean to tell you. I just forgot about the ring. I never seem to be able to do wrong with impunity. What an unlucky girl I am!'

‘Millie, do you actually mean that you—'

‘Yes. I was in bed with Andrew when Pat turned up. I'd invited Pat to be my lover, only I didn't think he would oblige, so I made do with Andrew instead. It was all most unfortunate and I'm a very disappointed woman.'

‘Millie, are you seriously saying that you and Andrew—'

‘Yes! I've said it as clearly as I can. Do you want me to say it again?'

‘How can you talk in that tone?'

‘Well, a woman caught in my situation has got to adopt some tone, and it's not easy to combine devastating frankness with calm dignity. What tone do you suggest?'

‘I just can't believe you.'

‘Have a good try. The fact is I'm in love with Pat, I'm desperately in love with Pat and I have been for ages, only of course it's hopeless, and it would have been hopeless even if Andrew hadn't been here tonight. And our thing would have been hopeless even if you hadn't found out about Andrew. I really think you'd better go, Christopher. Oh, hang it, you can't, you haven't got a bike.'

‘In love with Pat. I see.'

‘Yes, the real thing. I'd let him walk on me. If only I'd just wanted the best and stayed true to it, it would have come to me. It
did
come to me, and I muffed it.'

‘But you said it would have been hopeless anyway. And you have a rather quaint idea of the best. One night in bed with Pat Dumay. You know he'd have hated you in the morning.'

‘Yes, you understand Pat. But you don't quite understand me. I'm an odder fish than you imagine, Christopher. Perhaps one night would have been enough, perhaps it would have been everything, and perhaps such hatred would be purer than the purest love. But it's all lost now. I've been unfaithful to my own code. You muddled me, the money business muddled me. And now he despises me and I expect you do too. I think I'll have some whiskey.'

‘So you took Andrew. And that was why Frances refused him. I see it all now. It was because of you. I knew you were pretty irresponsible, but I didn't think you were utterly wicked.'

‘Oh God, you don't think
that?'
Millie jarred the whiskey bottle back on to the table. ‘I'm not that bad. I didn't do anything with Andrew, it didn't enter my head, until after he'd told me Frances had turned him down. Honest, Christopher. You can't really believe I'm capable of—'

‘I'm afraid, Millie, that I think you capable of anything.'

They stared at each other in silence. Then Millie took the bottle again and unsteadily poured some whiskey into her glass. She murmured, ‘It's funny. At this moment I think I'm almost in love with you. I told you I was a bit odd.'

‘There was obviously some guilty secret between you last Monday when you had the boy to tea with Hilda. I thought he was behaving very strangely. But I didn't dream—'

‘Oh, that. That was just a silly joke I played on him, it's not even worth explaining.'

‘Frances could have had no other reason for refusing Andrew. It was all fixed up.'

‘It wasn't all fixed up. And she could have had any reason for refusing him. He's not very clever. He's not even all that good-looking.'

‘You say this just after you've dragged him into bed with you.'

‘All right, I'm vulgar as well as wicked. But it's true.'

‘Where is he now, by the way?'

‘Half-way back to Dublin, I hope. He was supposed to slip out just after I came down again. What a pity, you might have borrowed his bike.' Millie started to laugh again, but stopped abruptly. ‘You
can't
believe it, Christopher, you just can't believe that I would have seduced Andrew while he was engaged to Frances. I couldn't possibly have done anything so cruel; I'm not cruel, I'm just silly. And anyway I wanted Andrew to marry Frances just as you did because of us.'

‘But you said just now you were in love with Pat and you knew our thing was no good anyway.'

‘Yes—I do seem in rather a muddle, don't I. But I swear I didn't—'

‘You might have done this deliberately to break up Frances' engagement so as to have an excuse for dropping me. I regard you as an utterly mad and destructive person and I always have.'

‘Then you shouldn't have envisaged marrying me.'

‘I entirely agree I shouldn't.'

They stood now facing each other across the table. What on earth is happening, Christopher asked himself, why are we shouting like this, am I dreaming? His weariness, his wet clothes, the strong dose of whiskey, made him feel dazed and light-headed. The figure of Millie stood out before him with a ghastly sharpness, an object detached from a flat background. He swayed, then went and sat down heavily.

BOOK: The Red And The Green
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