by Iris Murdoch
Your confessor and papa in God
Tisbourne†
PS re bridesmaids plan, watch out, Henrietta Sayce is a DEVIL.
My dearest Mother,
your letter has caused me much pain and touched my heart with deep love. I too long to look upon your face, and to see you and my dear father again in amity and peace. I will not write at length. As I have said before, and indeed many times, I cannot truthfully, on any ground, religious or moral, plead pacificism, since I am not a pacifist. I object not to war, but to this war. If I return home now I face a spell in prison, the loss of my Oxford job (which would have to go to someone else), the ruination of my academic prospects in the States, and worst of all the confiscation of my passport. And since I have in all possible seriousness and sincerity decided that it is not my life’s work to be a martyr of protest, it is duty as well as common sense to remain here. Please think about it all, Mother, please see all the pieces of the problem and see them all together in relation to each other. And please believe me that this would be my conclusion even were I not engaged to be married to an English girl.
I cannot (will not I suppose I should in honesty say) postpone my marriage. The wedding dress is ordered, the bridesmaids dresses are being made. (We are having a grown-up bridesmaid and a little one.) Everything is fixed. We have already a flat in Oxford and hope to buy furniture for it this weekend. I say these things not in frivolity or to cause you pain, but to make you see the reality of this marriage which will will, dearest Mother, take place in August. Please come to it, both of you, please. Gracie will pay the fare. It will complete our happiness which without you is wounded. Please. And forgive your son. He can no other. With so much much love, and also to Father.
Ludwig
‘Austin’s here,’ said Mavis. ‘Do you want to see him?’
Dorina hastily laid aside her book. She blushed and touched her throat and gave a little gasp. Then she jumped up and closed the drawing-room window as if that made some sort of difference. The sun blazed in on to clean white paint and orange-tawny walls and rather bad water-colours executed by Dorina and her father.
‘Yes. I was expecting him.’
‘Oh,’ said Mavis. ‘Well, here he is. I won’t be far off.’ She made an ambiguous grimace.
Austin came in, and the door closed behind Mavis.
Austin looked at Dorina and Dorina looked at the floor. She sat down again and motioned him to a seat, still not looking up.
Austin was carefully dressed in the light grey tweed suit, from which the wine stains had been almost entirely removed. He had a new pair of steel-rimmed glasses. He wore a white poplin shirt and a Bellini green tie. He had washed his fair hair which stood up in an attractive tousled way and rushed back over his head. His eyes looked unusually blue and he appeared young and full of health. But at the moment Dorina could only see his shoes, which had been rubbed clean without being polished.
‘Hello,’ said Austin.
Dorina murmured.
Austin sat down in an upright chair near her, reached across and lightly touched her knee. Dorina raised her head, brushed her eyes.
‘Hello, Austin.’
‘Hello, darling.’
‘Sorry —’
‘What are you being sorry about, silly? What’s this book you’ve been reading?’
‘The Lord of the Rings.’
‘Is it good, funny?’
‘Yes.’
‘Dorina —’
‘Oh, darling —’
‘We are a hopeless pair, aren’t we. Don’t cry. I’m not worth your precious tears.’
‘Sorry, I’ll be all right in a minute.’
‘I say, it’s so clean here. No dust. Round at — where I live now — it’s all dust and dirt and awful things in corners. Horrid.’
‘Mrs Carberry cleans here. She’s very good.’
‘I wish we had a Mrs Carberry. I mean — Oh, Dorina, I do miss you so.’
‘Austin, let’s be together again. I feel things are sort of closing in. I can’t explain. We must try to be somewhere together. Now that I see you I can’t understand what went wrong, it’s as if I’d forgotten —’
‘I know. I’ve forgotten too. May I touch you?’
‘Oh, Austin —’
He took her hand.
‘Dorina — silly — aren’t you?’
‘Yes, Austin.’
He stared at her, frowning with a kind of amazement. She was wearing a high-necked dress, buff coloured and sprigged with light pink daisies. Her light brown hair flowed loose to her shoulders, shining and blurred into gold, a young girl’s hair. But her face looked thinner, creamy pale and unlined, yet somehow no longer youthful. Could such a face, without seeming to age at all, become suddenly haggard? Her moist hand held his stiffly but hard. Their knees did not touch.
‘Look, I’d better just talk,’ said Austin. ‘You know I’m a hopeless character, you know me, God knows why you married me, it was your unlucky day when we two met, but here we are, somehow very married, aren’t we, other people can’t understand that, but we are.’
‘Yes, Austin.’
‘I can’t think how things have got into this mess, with everyone interfering, if we’d just been left to ourselves — Don’t push me away, darling child.’
‘I’m not pushing you away. Forgive me.’
‘May I just — touch you so — I’m not so bad, am I. It’s only old Austin, you know, your hopeless old husband.’
‘Dear dear husband.’
‘That’s a new dress.’
‘It’s one of Mavis’s. It didn’t fit her any more.’
‘Pretty.’
The dress was full-skirted and longish. Austin’s right hand nudged at Dorina’s knees, his left hand crept a little up her wrist under the lacy cuff. He felt her fast pulse, smelt freshly laundered cotton and flowers.
He went on, ‘We shouldn’t have separated —’
‘It was my fault.’
‘No, it wasn’t, but we won’t argue that. Maybe it was a good thing in a way, Nature took a hand in the game. You needed a holiday from me.’
‘No.’
‘Yes, you did. Anyone would. I need a holiday from myself. And then just lately — well, you know how everything’s gone wrong — I left my job —’
‘Austin, are you short of money?’
‘Well —’
‘I wish you’d sell those jewels of mine. They’re at the flat, in that little drawer in the bathroom, in a cardboard box. There’s a diamond ring and a brooch that goes with it. The diamond ring is quite valuable.’
‘Oh. Is it?’
‘You should get at least fifty pounds for the ring. Daddy gave it to me, but — You will sell them, please? Just to please me? I don’t want you to be short of money. You will promise?’
‘Well — all right —’
‘Dear Austin, thank you. Go on talking, will you. Just to hear you talking to me and to hold your hand is such a relief, it’s like when pain suddenly ceases and you can see the world again. You know I can’t talk. I’ve nothing to say somehow, except that I love you.’
‘Yes, then, I left my job, and there was poor old Charlotte and I felt I had to let her the flat, and Mitzi Ricardo was pressing me and pressing me to come and stay and I thought, when I had to make economies, you know —’
‘Is she — does she love you, Austin?’
‘Old Mitzi! No! She’s just lonely. She’s a pathetic figure really, I can’t help feeling sorry for her, she’s such a broken-down old thing.’
‘She’s hardly older than me, is she — ?’
‘She seems thirty years older than you. She’s lost her looks and got fat and taken to the bottle —’
‘Poor thing. You’ve been so good to her, so good to Charlotte.’
‘Mitzi just needs company, now that Ludwig’s gone —’
‘Louis’s with — ?’
‘Yes.’
‘Austin, Louis has quite stopped coming to see m
e.’
‘Has he. Yes. Oh he’s tied up with Gracie and that Tis-bourne world and Oxford, he’s got busy and grand, he’s not at all like the old Ludwig any more. He doesn’t care about people.’
‘You care, Austin.’
‘Dorina, I don’t care about anybody but myself and possibly you, please get that clear! You mustn’t think I really helped Mitzi or Char out of genuine unselfishness or kindness.’
‘Well, perhaps there isn’t such a thing.’
‘Perhaps there isn’t. That’s a very grown-up thought. Perhaps we’re both growing up at last.’
‘It would be about time. Oh, Austin, I do wish we had somewhere to go. Clara Tisbourne keeps on asking me to go and stay with them.’
‘You won’t go, will you, Dorina, I couldn’t bear it —’
‘No, of course I won’t go.’
‘And you won’t go on this ghastly cruise they’re planning with Richard Pargeter?’
‘No, of course not, as if I’d go away on a cruise just when —’
‘That’s my own dear true wife, my forever and ever girl.’
‘Oh, Austin, we really are sort of together again now, aren’t we? It suddenly seems so easy — You will come more now, come every day?’
‘Yes, yes.’
‘And we’ll be quiet with each other and talk about the future —’
‘The future, yes.’
‘How we’ll be back in our own little place one day soon, among all our own things, our own funny special place, like it used to be, and I’ll cook and sew —’
‘And we’ll make it nicer too, I’ll get a job with more money and —’
‘Oh dear Austin, I do so much want just to make you happy, I’ve always wanted that. You’ve had such a terrible time. I keep thinking of that poor child —’
‘That, yes.’
‘I hardly dared to mention it, it’s so awful. I am so sorry for you. And now there’s that poor chap who’s had the accident, the father.’
‘Yes. Poor chap.’
‘How is he?’
‘Still unconscious. Yes, well,, we’ll get back our little home, won’t we, Dorina, and —’
‘Mavis wants me to move out too now, because, you know —’
‘Dorina, is that a serious business?’
‘You mean between Mavis and —’
‘Yes.’
‘I think so. She doesn’t talk about it. And she hasn’t actually asked me to go — and of course they wouldn’t —’
‘Of course, Oh hell. Hell.’
‘Austin —’
‘Sorry — hell — all round me, all inside me — I live in it, I swallow it, I spit it, I am it. Hell. Do you know what that is, Dorina? Hell.’
‘Austin, please —’
‘I’m sorry, I’d better go. If I stay I’ll just start being bad to you. You see, it’s no good after all, with us nothing’s any good, you’re far better off without me, as you really know quite well or you wouldn’t have left me like you did —’
‘Oh, Austin —’
‘Sorry. I’ll go. You can go on reading your nice novel in peace in this charming well-dusted room. I’ll go back to my pigsty and sluttish old Mitzi Ricardo. Oh, Dorina, if you knew how heartily I loathe myself at least you’d feel some pity for me.’
‘I love you.’
‘If you do you must be mad. Anyway I’d better go before I start tearing up our little bit of tapestry to pieces. How you put up with me I can’t imagine —’
‘Austin, you did mean it about our being together again soon?’
‘In our little sty, different but still piggy. Yes, though God knows how. If you’ll ever forgive me and I ever forgive myself.’
‘Not yet, but soon.’
‘Not yet, but soon. That appears to be our motto. It saves us from thinking.’
‘And you will come now often! I won’t go away, you know that.’
‘Yes, I’ll come. You won’t go to the Tisbournes’, will you, Dorina, you won’t go anywhere?’
‘No, I won’t. And don’t be afraid that Mavis and —’
‘No, no. But oh God I must get you out of here to somewhere. I must get a job, I must try to get myself functioning somehow.’
‘Yes, yes. Better go now, Austin.’
‘Yes. We haven’t done too badly, have we, Dorina?’
‘No, my darling, we haven’t done too badly.’
Norman Monkley looked at his wife. He moved his lips and his lower jaw convulsively. It did not look like an attempt either to speak or to smile. He was holding his wife’s hand. She was weeping.
‘Don’t cry now, he’ll get better,’ said the nurse.
‘Will he?’ said Austin. Austin and Matthew were standing by the window.
‘Of course he will,’ said the nurse.
Norman was conscious and seemed to recognize his wife. He had not yet spoken.
‘You’ve been so kind, you gentlemen, so kind,’ said Mrs Monkley. ‘Norman will be so grateful when he’s himself again.’
‘Well, we must go, I think,’ said Matthew. ‘Miss Argyll will come this afternoon, and I’ll come again tomorrow.’
‘And thank you for bringing the flowers and poor Norman’s novel.’
‘Not at all.’
‘God bless you and reward you, sir.’
‘Amen,’ said Austin.
They left the room. Norman’s eyes followed them with an expression of puzzlement.
As they came out into the sun in the hospital grounds Austin said, ‘What did the surgeon say?’
‘He said a complete recovery was very unlikely but conceivable.’
Austin was silent.
Matthew said, ‘Why did you hit him, really?’
‘I didn’t like his novel. It was muck, you know, muck. Of course I didn’t mean to hurt him. I just tapped him playfully.’
After a silence Matthew said, ‘I hear you saw Dorina yesterday.’
‘Yes.’
‘Was that all right?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, you know —’
‘Your question is impertinent. Dorina is my wife. It’s of no conceivable interest or concern of yours.’
‘It is of interest,’ said Matthew. ‘Sorry. I know that everything I do and say annoys you.’
‘Yes. Think that over some time when you’re feeling so bloody superior to everyone.’
‘I don’t feel superior to everyone.’
‘You do.’
‘All right, I do. But in a way I can’t help it. It’s chemical. Just as it is with you.’
‘Just as it is with me to feel that I’m scum. Yes. You could be right. There’s your girl friend waiting.’
‘Won’t you come and talk to her? Let us give you a lift. Come and have a drink somewhere.’
‘No, thanks. I’m going this way. To the bus stop.’
‘Austin, don’t cut yourself off from people, it’s not good. Are you coming to the Odmores’ party this evening?’
‘Don’t be funny. By the way.’
‘Yes?’
‘Thanks for helping me the other day.’
‘Not at all. Au revoir.’
‘Goodbye.’
Mavis said as Matthew reached her. ‘How’s Norman?’
‘Conscious but not talking. The surgeon thinks he probably won’t recover his mind.’
‘He won’t remember?’
‘No.’
They got into the car.
‘Poor Norman. Poor Austin. Austin wouldn’t see me?’
‘No. So Dorina said nothing about yesterday?’
‘Nothing.’
‘No sign of her moving?’
‘No. But I hope she will go to the Tisbournes. We must all just be a little firm with her. I really think it would do her good. It’s not just for us.’
‘I agree. I’m tired of living in the car. Dear Mavis —’
‘I know. Did Austin say anything about yesterday?’
‘No. I just infur
iate him.’
‘The funny thing is that Austin really loves you. You’re the great love of his life.’
‘Rubbish, my dear. Now where shall we go?’
‘Let’s go and sit beside that nice quiet parking meter in Onslow Square.’
‘Is that Mavis Argyll? She hasn’t been to a party in years.’
‘She’s got very grey, but she still has the dewy spiritual look.’
‘Is it true that she and Matthew —’
‘Sssh. Hello, Matthew. I hear you’re giving your porcelain to the Fitzwilliam. The Ashmolean is furious.’
‘My Alma Mater, you know.’
‘Sebastian has got a job in the Bank of England.’
‘Gracie Tisbourne has real orchids in her hair.’
‘More money than sense.’
‘Hello, Oliver, how are Oldie Bookies?’
‘Is that huge lout really Ralph Odmore?’
‘Mollie Arbuthnot’s boutique is losing a hundred a week.’
‘The Odmores have invited everybody.’
‘Even Austin Gibson Grey I’m told.’
‘That’s going too far.’
‘Hello, Karen, you didn’t answer my letter.’
‘Sebastian darling, one is so busy.’
‘Gracie and Ludwig have bought a manor house in the Cotswolds.’
‘Oh, Mr Enstone, how charming of you to come.’
‘Richard, you know Mr Enstone.’
‘Is it true that Matthew and —’
‘Sssh. Hello, Mavis, what a stunning dress. I hear you’re selling Valmorana?’