Iris Murdoch - The Sea, the Sea

‘Let me open it,’ cried Rosina. ‘I love opening bottles of champagne. ’ The cork flew, the golden stuff foamed. ‘Charles!’

‘Thank you. Your health, Mr and Mrs Arbelow.’

‘We can hardly believe it, actually,’ said Rosina. ‘We’re happy. At least I’m happy. Are you happy, Peregrine?’

‘This unfamiliar sensation I identify unerringly as happiness. Charles, the best to you. Is your macabre military cousin still around?’

‘No, he’s gone.’

‘So you languish with the ever-faithful Liz?’

‘No, she’s gone too.’

‘All alone?’ said Rosina. ‘What about the bearded lady?’

‘Oh, they’re going away. Anyhow I’ve given up the Quest of the Bearded Lady. It was a brief mental aberration.’

‘That was the general view,’ said Peregrine. ‘We congratulate you.’

‘Are you going back to London?’

‘Tomorrow. Though it’s lovely here and the food is excellent. I’ve got a TV thing. May we drive you?’

‘No, thanks. And are you really joining forces again?’

‘Yes,’ said Rosina. ‘Everything has sprung back into place. We never got over each other and now we shall never have to. It’s as simple as that. But do you know, Charles, what made me suddenly see the truth?’

‘What?’

‘Peregrine murdering you!’

‘Well, trying to,’ said Peregrine. ‘I must be modest.’

‘Why was that so endearing?’ I asked.

‘Oh I don’t know, it was splendid. After all, you deserved to be murdered. For what you did to us, if for nothing else.’

‘Let’s not talk of that,’ I said.

‘Oh, don’t worry, we won’t list your sins, we’re feeling far too cheerful. But it was so sort of sporting and splendid of Peregrine to push you into that hole. I always hated the idea that he’d forgiven you. I only wish you’d drowned, it would have been more aesthetic.’

‘I can’t think why you didn’t,’ said Perry.

‘It was a piece of thoroughly picturesque and proper violence. I like a violent man really, a man who’s a bit of a brute in a decent straightforward way. You are an awful crook, Charles, but basically you’re soft. I can’t imagine why I got so attached to you. I think it was your own illusions of power that fascinated people, not personal magnetism. We were just duped by your conceit. As a man, you’re a softie, I can see that now.’

‘I like being nice and soft, like a squashy toy. But are you actually going to marry again? Surely you won’t go that far? I thought you said marriage was hell, Peregrine, you said it was brainwashing. ’

‘Not when you marry the same person for the second time. Everyone should do it.’

‘But what about Pamela?’

‘Oh, haven’t you heard? Pam’s gone off with Marcus Henty. You know he’s become a gentleman farmer. The manor house life should suit Pam down to the ground.’

‘So I thought I’d better grab Peregrine before he started making passes at Angie!’

‘God!’ said Peregrine. They laughed crazily, Perry’s big wrinkled face red with the sun and the champagne. Rosina as usual was perched, now on the arm of Peregrine’s chair, swinging long bare legs, her white dress hitched up. She leaned over him, brushing his hair with her nose. They both twinkled at me, then regarded each other solemnly and went off into another fit.

‘I hope there’s a part for Peregrine in Fritzie’s Odyssey, ’ I said. ‘Perhaps he could enact the old dog.’

‘Oh, that’s off,’ said Rosina.

‘Fritzie’s changed his mind?’

‘No, I’ve changed mine.’

‘We’re going to Ireland,’ said Peregrine.

‘To Ireland ?’

‘Yes, to Londonderry. We’ve had enough of West End show business. We’re going to bring theatre to the people.’

‘Oh my God!’

‘Don’t you mock, Charles. This is going to be the beginning of something great-’

‘So you’re giving up the Calypso part, Rosina?’

‘Yes,’ she said.

I said, ‘You’ve impressed me, at last.’

‘The beginning of something great,’ said Peregrine. ‘We’re going to write the plays ourselves and get local people to act them. The Irish are natural actors, and there’s a darling little theatre that’s only a bit bombed-’

‘I’m not mocking,’ I said. ‘I think you’re brave, both of you, I wish you the best of luck. No, no more champagne, thanks, it’s made me drunk already.’

‘Charles never had a head for drink,’ said Peregrine, pouring himself some more.

‘I’m not a monster in your mind any more, I hope?’ I said to him.

‘No,’ he said. ‘I killed the monster when I pushed you into the sea. I’m glad you survived, really. All’s well that ends well.’

‘Ah, but when is the end? I must be off. Thanks for the champers.’

‘I’ll see you to the door,’ said Rosina. She skipped out, and I saluted Peregrine and followed.

Rosina’s white dress turned out to be a sort of shapeless prophetess’s robe made of some very light fabric which practically floated on the air all round her. She held out her arms and flapped it, then drew it closely about her. We came out and stood a moment in the sun on the stony verge of the road. Rosina’s feet were bare.

‘So you think this’ll work, I mean you and Peregrine?’

‘I don’t see why not,’ she said. ‘There was never anything the matter between us except jealousy.’

‘A big matter. And ubiquitous.’

‘Well, it’s a sign of love. Peregrine was simply obsessed about you, then he married that Pam simply to annoy me. And, you know, I couldn’t bear Peregrine being so passive about your stealing me away, I always wanted him to fight for me.’

‘The Helen of Troy complex. It’s fairly common.’

‘And when I heard he’d killed you…’

‘He boasted of it?’

‘Naturally-’

‘Well, good luck to you. Tell me, Rosina, that day when you went off and said you were going to see Ben, did you go?’

Rosina peered up at me with her intense crossing eyes. She chuckled and hugged the white robe more closely around her. ‘Yes.’

‘And what happened?’

‘Oh nothing happened. We had a tremendous talk.’

‘I would call that a happening. What about?’

‘Charles, you ask too many questions,’ said Rosina, ‘and you want something for nothing, you always did. But I can assure you of one thing-your bearded lady is a lucky woman. That man is extremely attractive. ’

‘Oh-!’ I turned away with a wave. I would have given a lot for a tape-recording of that ‘tremendous talk’-if it really took place. It then occurred to me for the first time to wonder, had Ben and Hartley come together through sexual attraction ?

‘Charles!’ Rosina had run a little way after me, padding on the grass verge with her bare feet, her white robe fluttering free.

I waited.

‘Charles, darling, tell me, I must know. When you came here today were you going to offer yourself to me?’

‘You ask too many questions,’ I said.

I could hear her laughing merrily as I walked on. Her having given up that film part, that had the hard touch of reality all right.

That evening the clouds gathered, the sun vanished, and it began to rain. The madcap English weather which had been putting on a passable imitation of June now decided to play March. A cold wind blew from the sea and brought the rain in aggressive irregular patterings, like flung pebbles against the back windows. The house was full of odd sounds of straining and creaking and the bead curtain kept up an irregular prattle of sudden flurried clicks. I looked for the Irish jersey and finally found it among the bedclothes and cushions which still lay on the floor of the bookroom. I tried to light the fire in the little red room, but my indoors store was exhausted and the outdoor wood was wet. I drank a lot of red wine after my lentil soup and went to bed early with a hot water bottle.