A Word Child

by Iris Murdoch

  Gunnar was being objective again. ‘This much I suppose I learnt from analysis, to pull emotion, feeling, what lies deeper and more awfully close to the live heart, out into the open a bit more; to apprehend connections and let terrible things own their feelings without disguise. To let the dog see the rabbit, as we used to say, and let the rabbit also see the dog. Only this is awfully hard to do. This is why the analyst helps, and why — ’

  ‘I have helped.’

  ‘You have helped, just by standing here like a — ’

  ‘Deaf and dumb child or a bedpost or — ’

  ‘Yes, yes. I am most grateful. Something has certainly changed, and such changes are usually irreversible. One’s deep mind is indifferent to time. You are here, you will be here, the efficacy will not fade — ’

  ‘Except that I will not be here.’

  ‘You will not be here. After all, that would be impossible, wouldn’t it?’

  ‘Impossible.’

  ‘I mean — ’

  ‘Naturally I am going to resign from the office,’ I said. ‘There is no need for you to run the risk of meeting me on the stairs. Since I shall be tunelessly available in your mind as a curative agency, it would be a pity, would it not, if the real me were to intrude.’

  Gunnar smiled at the fire. ‘I am glad,’ he said, ‘that you have turned out to be this sort of person. It has made this exercise of pure egoism on my part so much easier.’

  ‘What sort of person have I turned out to be?’

  ‘I feared — oh — emotions — appeals, sentiment, something — mushy. I feared you might need help.’

  ‘How do you know I don’t since, as you say yourself, you are unwilling to investigate my feelings?’

  ‘Well, one has one’s impression. Of course you have resented being used. Your annoyance may even have been valuable.’

  ‘Annoyance?’

  ‘I mean, it has kept the temperature down. That is what I needed. I am very grateful. There was something else I thought of asking you, but I think after all — I needn’t. Thank you. Thank you.’

  ‘Success of exhibit A.’

  ‘And I do appreciate what you say about leaving the office. Of course I expected you to go. May I offer you my best wishes for your next employment?’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘And now — I believe you said you came without a coat?’

  I moved towards the door. As I came out the smell of Kitty’s perfume seemed exceptionally strong. I walked down the stairs with Gunnar’s heavy tread behind me. I reached the front door and opened it. The cold air reached in and grabbed me.

  ‘Well, that’s all, is it? I’m glad it was satisfactory.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I think we did well, yes, as well as possible in the circumstances.’

  ‘I shall be leaving the office at once.’

  ‘Good. Thank you. Good-bye then.’

  ‘Good-bye.’

  Neither of us moved to shake hands. I marched out and the door was promptly shut behind me.

  I walked on into the embankment garden, then turned to look back at the house. Did I imagine it or was there a face looking out from a darkened window on the second floor? I walked on and crossed the road to the river. The tide was in, high against the wall, smelling cold and faintly rotten, carrying its jostling debris almost to within reach of my hand. The wind was blowing in sharp cutting gusts. I began to walk along in an eastward direction, then turned north towards the King’s Road.

  Gunnar had had his revenge after all. This was better, far better than physical assault, better than smashing my face in or breaking my ribs. I felt I had suffered a sort of spiritual evisceration. I had had the ass’s head of a mean and petty cynicism placed upon me and I had worn it. I closed my eyes and ground my teeth at the thought of the things I had said and the tone I had used. And how I would remember and remember! Gunnar had claimed to have me tunelessly available: and I too had with me forever this image of the thing that I had seemed, that I had been. I had accepted Gunnar’s implied assumption that I did not care deeply, that I had become a little smart hard sarcastic resentful man. Did he believe this of me? Probably, and this was the ruthless logic of the matter which I must endure, it was not really necessary to Gunnar to form any view of my state of mind. If he was prepared to make the after all considerable concession of admitting that I could help him, he had surely the right to use me as he pleased. He need not trouble himself to make out what I thought. He may even have felt that it would be indelicate to do so. It had suited him, in the light of his paramount need, to regard me as a cynic, and I had done everything I could to confirm his view. And he had said good-bye. They had all said good-bye now, Biscuit, Gunnar, Kitty. The whole extraordinary business was over. And I was back where I belonged, where my childhood had condemned me to be, alone, out in the cold without a coat.

  MONDAY

  ‘WHAT’s the matter with Hilary?’ Edith Witcher asked Reggie Farbottom.

  ‘He’s moping about his girl.’

  ‘What’s she done, got pregnant?’

  ‘No, got slung out of the panto.’

  ‘Poor old Hilo, after all that intriguing. No wonder he looks as if he was going to be sick.’

  ‘He does look green, doesn’t he.’

  ‘Perhaps he’s got the ’flu as well.’

  ‘Shall we try and communicate with him?’

  ‘It’s like sending a space probe to Mars trying to communicate with Hilary.’

  ‘Never mind, let’s try. Hilary!’

  ‘Hilaree! Yoo-hoo! Hilo!’

  ‘Yes?’ I was at my desk and they had been talking behind my back. It was a cold yellow morning, now Monday, Big Ben visible.

  ‘Hilary, are you receiving us?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Are you all right? Have you got the ’flu?’

  ‘Yes. No.’

  ‘What does he mean, yes, no?’

  ‘Yes, I’m all right. No, I have not got the ’flu.’

  ‘Hilary — ’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘What are you writing there? I bet it’s not office work.’

  ‘It’s a letter to his girl.’

  ‘As a matter of fact, it’s my letter of resignation.’

  ‘Of course, he couldn’t possibly stay on after his girl had been slung out of the panto, he’s got some dignity!’

  ‘We are in luck, this is one of Hilary’s witty days.’

  I scaled up my letter of resignation and sent it off by Skinker, who also asked me, but more kindly, if I was feeling all right. Skinker had recovered from his ’flu, and told me all about it, but Arthur was apparently now down with it. This was good news since I could do without seeing Arthur at present and also he would not be expecting me tomorrow since he knew how I felt about virus infections. I had now one month in which to find another job. It would not be easy.

  I felt desperately tired and did not even try to work. I had come back to the flat about midnight. I did not inquire at what time Tommy had given up waiting for me. I left the office at about twelve and telephoned Crystal from a call box near Scotland Yard. I very rarely telephoned her although I knew that she would be made glad by hearing my voice, and that she was sitting there at home sewing, lonely and thinking about me.

  ‘Hello. It’s me.’

  ‘Oh — good — darling.’

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Sewing.’

  ‘What are you sewing? Is it the cocktail dress for the new lady?’

  ‘No, I’ve finished that.’

  ‘Is it nice?’

  ‘Smashing.’

  ‘What are you sewing?’

  ‘I’m altering a child’s coat for the woman next door.’

  ‘Oh. Crystal — ’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘You’re not being unhappy about that — what you said to me last time?’

  Silence. Crystal’s tears gathering. ‘No.’

  ‘Don’t be. I’m sorry I was awful. I’m sorry I di
dn’t stay and eat the fish cakes. Were they nice?’

  ‘I didn’t eat them then. I ate them cold for Sunday lunch. They were nice.’

  ‘I’m glad. Crystal — ’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Don’t be sad, I couldn’t bear it if you were sad. It doesn’t matter, nothing in the past matters. I mean, of course it matters, but I should be so wretched if you — ’

  ‘I’m all right. Don’t worry about me, darling, I’m perfectly all right. Really. Really and truly.’

  ‘That’s my good girl.’

  Silence.

  ‘Crystal, could I come to supper on Wednesday evening?’

  ‘Yes — yes, of course — ’

  ‘Good, usual time. See you then.’

  She would never ask to see me. She would wait, always, she would wait.

  I ate my lunch at the Sherlock Holmes, or rather I drank my lunch accompanied by a few potato crisps. I returned to the office about half past two. Edith was not there. I could hear Reggie’s voice in the Registry, upraised in some passage of sexual badinage.

  I went to my desk and glanced mechanically at my in tray. A letter from Gunnar was lying on the top.

  I seized it and pulled it open, leaning forward over the desk and gasping.

  There is one other thing I want to ask you and then I shall cease to trouble you. It will take two minutes only. Perhaps you will step down to my room some time this afternoon. G.J.

  I sat down and for about ten minutes concentrated on breathing normally. Then I got up and began to walk down the stairs towards the first floor. I wished heartily that I had not drunk so much at lunch, but I could not possibly have waited, I had to see Gunnar at once. I passed Clifford Larr on the stairs. We ignored each other.

  As I reached Gunnar’s door I had another crisis of breathing. I stood for a moment, then fearing to be observed I knocked, heard the murmur within, and entered.

  He was alone, sitting as before in the semi-dark, behind the big desk with the green-shaded lamp. His shoulders were hunched up in a defensive attitude and I could see his eyes anxiously peering. He looked so vulnerable that for a moment I felt as if last night had been wiped out and we were to have, after all, another chance. However he spoke very coldly, and with the same slightly mocking, slightly contemptuous and absolutely constraining politeness.

  ‘I am sorry to trouble you again, it will not take much of your time. I mentioned yesterday that there was one other relevant thing into which perhaps I need not go. But I find it is necessary to do so after all if I am, from my own point of view, which is all I know or wish to know anything about, to clear this matter up.’

  Standing in front of him, also in darkness, I watched his large formidably clean right hand, moving nervously on the desk in the circle of light, shifting papers and trailing about. ‘Yes?’

  ‘This may seem a curious request, but — I wonder if I could just once, I repeat just once, and just briefly, visit your sister?’

  This was completely unexpected. I felt a confused frightful emotion and total uncertainty about how to answer. Was Gunnar assuming that I knew, or that I did not know, about what had happened, if it had happened? I said, ‘Why?’

  ‘I want to see her. Not at my house. Preferably at her flat or wherever she lives.’

  ‘Just like you wanted to see me?’

  ‘No,’ said Gunnar, ‘not just like that.’

  ‘What makes you think she isn’t married and living in New Zealand?’

  ‘I found her name in the London telephone book.’

  I was silent for a moment or two. He was examining his hands. I said, ‘I’ll ask her.’

  ‘Will you? That’s good of you. And let me know by letter one way or the other, either in the office or at Cheyne Walk. I am free on Wednesday evening, or next Monday.’

  ‘I’ll let you know.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  The words were dismissive. I stood a moment, then, as he still did not look at me, I turned on my heel to go. I stopped at the door. ‘By the way, I have sent in my letter of resignation.’

  ‘That’s good. It remains for me to repeat my good wishes and say good-bye again.’

  ‘Good-bye.’ I went out.

  I hurried straight on downstairs and out of the office, once more coatless. The east wind was cutting through the yellowish murk. I reached a brightly lit telephone box.

  ‘Crystal. Hello. It’s me again. It seems to be telephone day.’

  ‘Hello, my dear.’

  ‘Crystal, listen. I’ve seen Gunnar.’

  Silence.

  ‘Listen, he wants to see you.’

  Silence.

  ‘He says briefly and just once. Shall I tell him to go to hell?’

  ‘Did you talk about — ?’

  ‘No, of course not. He didn’t say anything and neither did I. But, Crystal, darling, you don’t have to see him. I felt I had to tell you, it would have been wrong not to, but really there’s no point, is there, and it would upset you — ’

  ‘Does she know?’

  ‘No, she doesn’t know.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes. She said — Never mind, I’m sure. And Gunnar doesn’t want you to come to his house, he’d come to you.’

  ‘He’d come here?’

  ‘Yes, why not, he’s not God. But really I think — ’

  ‘Yes, I’ll see him.’

  ‘Crystal, you don’t have to — ’

  ‘I want to. When will he come?’

  ‘Oh Christ. He said would Wednesday evening — or next Monday — ’

  ‘Tell him Wednesday.’

  ‘But you’re seeing me on Wednesday.’

  ‘I must see him, darling — and I couldn’t wait till Monday — I’d like to see him — the earliest he can come — ’

  ‘Oh, all right. I hope you know what you’re doing. I’ll say between seven and eight on Wednesday.’

  I rang off and stood rigid and paralysed in the lighted box until an impatient person waiting outside began to tap on the window. Ought I to have told her?

  I went slowly back to the office. There was an official letter accepting my resignation with regret and pointing out that since I was under fifty I would forfeit my pension rights. I wrote a note to Gunnar giving Crystal’s address and saying she would see him on Wednesday between seven and eight. Reggie and Edith were playing battleships. Out of sheer kindness of heart they asked me if I would like to play. I must have been looking terrible.

  At five o’clock I left the building. The cold yellow day, which had never had any real daylight in it, was thickening into a misty fog. Great waves of gauzy yellow obscurity were rolling in from the river. I was beginning to walk along with the usual mob in the direction of Westminster station when I became aware that I was being followed by Biscuit. When I reached Parliament Square corner, instead of turning towards the station I crossed the traffic onto the big island in the middle of the square where the statues are. I walked along, away from Churchill, and sat down on a seat at the far end, opposite Big Ben, underneath the statue of Dizzy (I always loved Dizzy because of Mr Osmand). For a moment I thought that this manoeuvre might have lost me Biscuit, but she appeared, padding through the gloom, and sat down beside me. The traffic encircled us, the fog hid us, nobody was near. Big Ben struck the quarter hour. I gave a groan and put my arms around Biscuit and laid my head on her shoulder, nuzzling beneath the dropped hood of her duffle coat, feeling with my cheek through the rough material the frail prominence of her collar bone.

  ‘Biscuit, I’m done for, I can’t stand it any longer, they’re killing me.’

  ‘No, no — ’

  ‘I’ve even lost my job. Look, Biscuit, how much do you really know about this business?’

  ‘Nothing. How can I, I am a servant. But won’t you tell me? Perhaps I could help you.’

  ‘I’m a servant too. Maybe I could get a job as a butler. Perhaps Lady Kitty would take me on.’

  ‘Please tell me, Hilary.�
�

  ‘I bet you know all about it, you secretive oriental girl. Why are you here anyway? I thought we’d said good-bye.’

  ‘I’ve brought you a letter.’