The Nice and the Good

by Айрис Мердок

  'Good. I just wanted to be sure.'

  They stared intently at each other.

  'Well? Go on.'

  'That, for a start.' Ducane turned away, and with a long sigh poured himself out some gin. Then he poured a little dry vermouth into the glass, measuring it judiciously. Then he began to inspect Biranne again, looking at him with a sort of grave curiosity.

  'Get it over with,' said Biranne. 'You're turning me in. Don't cat and mouse me as well.'

  'Cat and mouse,' said Ducane. 'Yes. Well, you may have to put up with being a little bit, as you charmingly put it, cat and moused. I want to ask you a few questions.'

  'So you haven't decided? Or do you want me on my knees? Oro supplex et acclinis. Yes, you do think you're God!'

  'Just a few questions, my dear Biranne.'

  'Ask, ask.'

  'Where's Judy?'

  'I don't know,' said Biranne, surprised. 'You told me to drop Judy.' He gave a snarl of a laugh.

  'And did you?'

  'No. She dropped me. She just disappeared. I imagined she was with you. I must say I was rather relieved.'

  'She's not with me,' said Ducane. 'But never mind about Judy. Forget Judy.'

  'What's this all about, Ducane? I wish you'd get on with it., 'Listen, listen '

  'I am listening, confound you.'

  'Biranne,' said Ducane, 'do you still love your wife?'

  Biranne put his glass down sharply on the table and turned away. He moved a little along the room. 'What's the relevance of this to – anything?'

  'Answer me.'

  'I don't know.'

  'Well, think about it. We've got plenty of time.' Ducane sat down in one of the easy chairs, waving his glass gently about in a figure of eight. He took a sip.

  'It's my affair.'

  Ducane was silent. He gazed into his glass, breathing slowly and deeply. It seemed to him that he still smelt of the sea. Perhaps he would smell of the sea now until the end of his days.

  'All right,' said Biranne. 'Yes, I do still love my wife. One doesn't recover from a woman like Paula. And now that I've satisfied your rather quaint curiosity perhaps we can get back to the matter in hand.'

  'But this is by no means irrelevant to the matter in hand,' said Ducane. 'Do you ever think of returning to Paula?'

  'No, of course not.'

  'Paula and the twins '

  'There isn't any road back to Paula and the twins.'

  'Why back? Why not on? They haven't been standing still in the past: 'Precisely, Paula's written me off long ago. She's got a life of her own. May I now ask the reason for these impertinent inquiries?'

  Pertinent, pertinent. Don't hustle me. I'm feeling very tired.

  Give yourself another drink.'

  Ducane pulled his chair closer to the fire and sipped the vermouth-fragrant gin. He did in fact feel very tired and curiously dreamy.

  Biranne, who had been pacing the room, had stopped behind the chair opposite and was leaning on it, staring at Ducane with puzzlement.

  , You were in the Commandos,' said Ducane. He looked up at Biranne's lean figure, his contracted slightly twisted clever face, under the dry fuzzy crest of hair.

  'Your mind's rather straying around the place today,' said Biranne.

  'That business with Eric Sears. Is it specially because of that you feel you couldn't possibly return to Paula? T 'Good God! Who told you about Eric Sears?'

  'Paula did.'

  'Oh she did, did she. Interesting. Well, it's a bit of a barrier.

  When one has deprived somebody's lover of his foot – '

  'It becomes an obsession, a nightmare –?'

  'I wouldn't say quite that. But it's certainly one of those events that do things, psychological things.'

  'I know. Paula felt this too.'

  'Besides. Paula detests me.'

  'No she doesn't. She still loves you.'

  'Did she tell you that too?»

  'Yes.'

  'Christ. Why are you meddling here, Ducane?'

  'Can't you see?'

  'No, I can't.'

  'You said it was mine to command and that I could make any conditions. Well, this is my decision. I'll keep quiet about everything if you will at least try out the possibility of returning to Paula.'

  Biranne turned away and went to the window.

  Ducane began to talk excitedly and fast, rather apologeti323 called. 'I remember your saying damn my duty, and I think now you were quite right, or rather there is another sort of duty. I don't want to wreck your life, why should I? It wouldn't help poor Claudia or poor Radeechy. And as for the processes of law, human law is only a very rough approximation to justice, and it's far too clumsy an instrument to deal with the situation that you're in. It isn't that I want to play God, I've just had this business forced upon me and I've got to do something about it.

  I really want to get right out without doing any damage. As for the inquiry, I'm certain about the answer to the question and I shall say so without the details. The thing about Paula just came as an inspiration, an extra, a felicitous conjecture. She certainly loves you, so why not try it? I'm not sentencing you to succeed, I'm sentencing you to try.' Ducane stood up and banged his glass on to the mantelpiece.

  Biranne came drifting back. He murmured, 'I haven't much choice, have I?'

  'Well, you have and you haven't,' said Ducane.'I may as well reveal that I've decided not to open up this business anyway, I mean whatever you do. But since you're a gentleman – '

  'I think you're crazy. It could be a disaster. I can't imagine how you see it as a good idea.'

  'I've talked to Paula about it – in general terms of course, I haven't told her this lot. And I think she very much wants to try again. She appears not to have got over you, either.'

  'No doubt you find this bizarre,' said Biranne. He stood for a moment looking into the fire. Then he said, 'All right, Ducane, all right. I'll try, just try. God knows how it'll be.'

  'Good. You have sometimes thought of going back?'

  'Yes, I have, but only in a fantasy way. When two rather stiffnecked people part as we parted '

  'I know. That was why I felt a deus ex machina was not out of place.'

  'I trust you've enjoyed yourself. All right. But when it comes to it Paula may find she hates the sight of me. And I don't imagine I'll turn into an ideal husband overnight.'

  'Yes, yes. You'll go on being the bastard that you are.'

  Biranne smiled and picked up his drink again. 'I'm surprised you don't want to preserve Paula from my clutches. Funny thing, I used to think that perhaps you and Paula – God, I'd have hated it! I couldn't bear the idea of any man coming near Paula, but you would have been the worst of all – '

  'Well, if you want to keep other men off you'd better look after her yourself. By the way, I should have added another condition. You must tell Paula everything.'

  'About Radeechy and so on?'

  'Yes. Of course Paula may decide to, as you put it, turn you in. But somehow I don't think she will. Here, you'll need this.

  I don't want it any more.' Ducane held out Radeechy's confession.

  Biranne put it on the mantelpiece. He said, 'I think it would be wiser if you told Paula. I mean, just the outline of facts.

  She may decide she doesn't want to see me. She may decide that anyway.'

  'I don't think so. But all right, I'll tell her. Should she come up here to see you, or would you rather go down to Dorset?'

  'Let her decide that. Well, no, it might be better in town. I –I don't feel quite ready to face the twins.'

  Ducane laughed. 'The twins are indeed formidable. But I expect you'll find that they forgive you. Now there's nothing to say but good luck.'

  Biranne, pulling at his lower lip, had made his face more than usually asymmetrical. 'I suppose this is a kind of blackmail, isn't it.'

  'I suppose it is.'

  'I think perhaps I'll take this along after all.' Biranne pocketed Radeechy's confession. They both
laughed.

  Biranne began to move towards the door.

  'I'll drop you a note when I've seen Paula,' said Ducane.

  'Thanks. And in general, thanks.'

  They moved out towards the front door. As they reached it Biranne touched Ducane's shoulder. Ducane hastily held out his hand and they shook hands, avoiding each other's eyesi The next moment Biranne was in the street.

  Ducane bent down rather wearily to pick up some letters which were lying on the that. He trailed back into the drawing room and poked the fire. He noticed that all the furniture was dusty. Where the devil was Fivey? His pleasant sense of aliveness seemed to have faded and the pellet of cold lengthened within him. He had probably got some permanent illness which would shortly declare itself. He shivered and found that his teeth were chattering.

  He had strangely looked forward to that encounter with Biranne. But it had passed off as if in a dream. It was true that he no longer thought of Biranne as a bastard. He had somehow inevitably come to like him. But also some tension was now relaxed which had bound them together. He no longer needed Biranne. And if Biranne went back to Paula, and indeed in any case, Biranne would in the long run resent Ducane's intervention and would see it only as another exercise of power. Perhaps it was only another exercise of power. Biranne would avoid him, and if Biranne were with Paula, Paula would avoid him too. Ducane sighed. He very much wanted someone sympathetic to talk to, Mary Clothier for instance, he wanted someone to console him. He wanted something new to look forward to. He sat down and began to look at the letters.

  One was from Kate, one was from Jessica, and the third one was in an unfamiliar hand. Ducane opened this one first. It read as follows.

  Dear John,

  I expect you've been wondering what has happened to little Judy, and I feel I ought to write and tell you, since you were so very kind to me, and I mean that. You have changed my life, John, though I don't mean that you've converted me to the Ten Commandments.

  You've led me to Mr Right! And don't feel you've done badly, I'm afraid you take the marriage bond more seriously than I do, though I think that comes of your not being married. I was all set to leave Peter anyway when Ewan came into my life that night we drove back from your house and though we've known each other such a little time we know we're made for each other and we're going away together. Just guess where we'll be when you get this! On a boat going to Australia! What luck that my little nest-egg just covers the fare! As Ewan is a Welsh-Australian like me it seems just the thing, and he's going to take me back to his birthplace and his dad owns a motor business and will set us up so wish me joy! Well, that's all and I did like knowing you and I'm sorry we didn't you know! but I mustn't say that as Ewan is so jealous! I'll send you a postcard of the Sydney Bridge.

  Yours very truly,

  Judy

  It took Ducane a moment to realize that 'Ewan' was the versatile Fivey. Well, he hoped that Judy would not have occasion to change her mind about Mr Right. It was just possible that here Fivey had met his match. And now he would have to look for another manservant. He would choose a good deal more providently next time. It was not until a week later that Ducane realized that some of his most expensive cuff links had disappeared with Fivey, together with a signet ring which had belonged to his father. He did not grudge Fivey the cuff links but he was sorry about the ring.

  Now he opened Jessica's letter, which read as follows:

  My Dear John,

  I am sorry not to have replied to your various letters, telegrams etc. and not to have answered the 'phone or the doorbell. It was a bit of a change, wasn't it, your being so keen to see me. As you probably know-I have found out about Kate. There's not much to say. I am very shocked indeed that you should have felt it necessary to lie to me. It was a mistaken way to spare my feelings, since it was so much worse finding it all out. I hate deceits and concealments, and I think you really do too, and you're probably relieved now that it's out in the open. I think there's no point in our meeting any more. You've said this yourself often enough and I was a fool not to agree. You see, I thought I loved you very much and the odd thing is I think I was just mistaken. I hope I don't hurt you by saying this. You're probably so damn relieved to get rid of me that you won't be hurt. Of course I feel very sad about it all, but not half as sad as I did two years ago. So don't worry about me. I've cried about it all so much, now I'm just snapping out of it. Better not reply to this, I'm not so cured yet that the sight of your handwriting doesn't make me feel ill. Be happy with Kate. I really wish you well, or I will soon. Please don't write or telephone. Good luck.

  Jessica

  Ducane dropped the letter in the fire. He saw Jessica's devotion now, intact, completed as it were, as a beautiful and touching thing. He did not feel any relief at the thought that she would soon be, perhaps already was, 'cured'. He had handled ignominiously something which now seemed to him intensely pure. The bitter quarrels, the hundred reasonings of the hundred moments, were past now and would soon be lost even to memory. What held him was the judgement of a court of higher instance that he had lied and bungled and had no dignity which could compare with her dignity of having simply loved him. He opened Kate's letter.

  Dearest John,

  I do hope you are really well and suffering no ill effects from your awful experience. It's not easy to know how to write to you, but I felt you would be expecting a word. So many things seem to have happened all at once.

  Since I opened that letter which you asked me not to open I have of course been thinking very much about you and me, and in conclusion I am feeling thoroughly dissatisfied with myself. My nature has always been to eat cakes and have them, and one can try to do this once too often. I was so certain that with you and me our so strange, so nebulous, and yet so powerful something could be managed so that we had all fun and no pain. But the mechanisms of love have their own curious energies, and also (forgive me for saying this) I did rather rely on your not having misled me on a certain point. I confess I have found this revelation of another relationship hard to bear. As I said at the time, of course I have no rights where you are concerned. Yet maybe just this was our mistake, to think we could have this something without some degree of possessiveness. And if I had known earlier that you had a close relationship I would not have let myself go quite as far in getting fond of you. Though now it seems to me to have been idiotic to imagine that I could in any way secure someone as attractive as you without being either your wife or your mistress. But this is just what I did imagine. You will think me a fool. Anyway in view of it all I feel a little drawing back is in order, and fortunately this sort of thing happens pretty automatically. You probably feel a good deal of relief, as you must have had misgivings about an 'entanglement' with me which I now realize was mainly my doing.

  Be happy with Jessica. It is out of place to say 'feel free', since I never claimed to tie you, and yet there was a tie. But it is gone now. Please of course feel that you can come to Trescombe as before. Octavian sends love and joins me in hoping to see you soon.

  Kate

  Ducane dropped the sheets one by one Into the flames. Kate's writing was so large that her letters came in huge bundles. He thought, how unbecoming to a woman is that particular tone of resentment, and how difficult it is even for an intelligent woman to disguise it. Then he wondered to himself, why am I being harder on Kate than on Jessica? The answer was not far to seek. Jessica had loved him more. It was self, fat self, that mattered in the end. Ducane idly picked up the piece of paper which remained on the table. It was Radeechy's cryptogram.

  He stared at it without thought. Then he began to scrutinize it more closely. Something about the centre part of it was beginning to look curiously familiar. Then suddenly Ducane saw what it was. The central part of the square consisted of the Latin words of the ancient Christian cryptogram.

  O

  O

  A

  A

  This elegant thing can be read forwards, backwards or vertic
ally, and consists, with the addition of A and 0 (Alpha and Omega) of the letters of the first two words of the Lord's Prayer arranged in the form of a cross.

  A A I APATERNOSTER

  0

  0

  Who had invented, to scrawl mysteriously upon what darkened wall, that curious charm to conjure, by its ingenious form and its secret content, what powers surely more sinister and probably more real than the Christian god? And what had Radeechy done to it, to divert its power and make its talismanic value his own? Ducane studied the letters round the edge of the square. A and 0 again twice, only reversed. The other letters then simply read RADEECHY PATER DOMINUS.

  Ducane threw the paper down. He felt disappointed, touched, upset. There was something schoolboyish and pathetic in the egoism of Radeechy's appropriation of the Latin formula. It was the sort of thing one might have carved inside one's desk at school. Perhaps all egoism when it is completely exposed has a childish quality. Ducane felt piercingly sorry for Radeechy. The solving of the cryptogram had given him a sense of speech with him, but babbling baffled speech. After all the machinery of evil, the cross reversed, the slaughtered pigeons, the centre of it all seemed so empty and puerile. Yet Radeechy was dead, and were not the powers of evil genuine enough which had led him to two acts of violence? Ducane could not see into that world. He saw only the grotesque and the childish, and whatever was frightening here seemed to be something of limited power, something small. Perhaps there were spirits, perhaps there were evil spirits, but they were little things. The great evil, the dreaded evil, that which made war and slavery and all man's inhumanity to man lay in the cool self-justifying ruthless selfishness of quite ordinary people, such as Biranne, and himself.

  Ducane got up and walked about the room. The scene had certainly been cleared. Fivey gone, Judy gone, Biranne gone, Jessica gone, Kate gone, Paula gone. He looked at himself in a mirror. His face, which he thought of as 'lean', looked peaky and thin, and he noticed the greasy unclean appearance of his hair and the dulled lock of grey in the centre of his forehead.