Iris Murdoch - The Bell

She looked at her watch and realized with a shock that the train was due to arrive at Pendelcote in less than twenty minutes. Her heart began to beat in pain and pleasure at the thought of seeing Paul. It was necessary to return to the carriage. She powdered her nose, tucked her untidy blouse back again into her skirt, settled her collar, and plunged back towards her seat, keeping her head well down. Toby and his friend were still talking, but Dora murmured quiet imprecations to herself inside her head so that their words should not reach her. She looked resolutely at the floor, seeing a pair of heavy boots, and Toby’s feet in sandals. A little time passed and the pain at her heart became more extreme.

Then Dora noticed that there was a Red Admiral butterfly walking on the dusty floor underneath the seat opposite. Every other thought left her head. Anxiously she watched the butterfly. It fluttered a little, and began to move towards the window, dangerously close to the passengers’ feet. Dora held her breath. She ought to do something. But what? She flushed with indécision and embarrassment. She could not lean forward in front of all those people and pick the butterfly up in her hand. They would think her silly. It was out of the question. The sunburnt man, evidently struck with the concentration of Dora’s gaze, bent down and fumbled with his boot laces. Both seemed securely tied. He shifted his feet, narrowly missing the butterfly which was now walking into the open on the carriage floor.

“Excuse me,” said Dora. She knelt down and gently scooped the creature into the palm of her hand, and covered it over with her other hand. She could feel it fluttering inside. Everyone stared. Dora blushed violently. Toby and his friend were looking at her in a friendly surprised way. Whatever should she do now? If she put the butterfly out of the window it would be sucked into the whirlwind of the train and killed. Yet she could not just go on holding it, it would look too idiotic. She bowed her head, pretending to examine her captive.

The train was slowing down. With horror Dora realized that it must be Pendelcote. Toby and his companion were gathering their luggage together. Already the station was appearing. The other two were moving towards the door as the train jolted to a standstill. Dora stood up, her hands still cupped together. She must get herself out of the train. She quickly thrust one hand through the handles of her handbag and the canvas bag, and closed it again above the now quiescent butterfly. Then she began to totter towards the carriage door. People were beginning to get into the train. Dora backed her way out, pushing vigorously, keeping the butterfly cupped safely against her chest. She managed to get down the steep step on to the platform without falling, although her awkward shoes leaned over sideways at the heels. She righted herself and stood there looking round. She was on the open part of the platform and the sunlight rose from the glinting concrete and dazzled her eyes. For a moment she could see nothing. The train began to move slowly away.

Then with a deep shock she saw Paul coming towards her. His real presence glowed to her, striking her heart again, and she felt both afraid and glad to see him. He was a little changed, thinner and browned by the sun, and the blazing afternoon light revealed him to her in the splendour of his Southern look and his slightly Edwardian handsomeness. He was not smiling but looking at her very intently with a narrow stare of anxious suspicion. His dark moustache drooped with his sourly curving mouth. For a second Dora felt happy that she had done at least one thing to please him. She had come back. But the next instant, as he came up to her, all was anxiety and fear.

Paul was followed closely by Toby and his companion, who had evidently met him further down the platform. Dora could see them smiling at her over Paul’s shoulder. She turned to him.

“Well, Dora – “ said Paul.

“Hello,” said Dora.

Toby’s companion said. “Well met! I do wish we’d known who you were. I’m afraid we quite left you out of the conversation! We travelled up with your wife, but we didn’t realize it was her.”

“May I introduce,” said Paul. “James Tayper Pace. And this is Toby Gashe. I’ve got your name right, I hope? My wife.”

They stood in a group together in the sun, their shadows intermingled. The other travellers had gone.

“So very glad to meet you!” said James Tayper Pace.

“Hello,” said Dora.

“Where’s your luggage?” said Paul.

“My God!” said Dora. Her mouth flew open. She had left the suitcase on the train.

“You left it on the train?” said Paul.

Dora nodded dumbly.

“Typical, my dear,” said Paul. “Now let’s go to the car.” He stopped. “Was my notebook in it?”

“Yes,” said Dora. “I’m terribly sorry.”

“You’ll get it back,” said James. “Folk are honest.”

“That’s not my experience,” said Paul. His face was harshly closed. “Now come along. Why are you holding your hands like that?” he said to Dora. “Are you praying, or what?”

Dora had forgotten about the butterfly. She opened her hands now, holding the wrists together and opening the palms like a flower. The brilliantly coloured butterfly emerged. It circled round them for a moment and then fluttered across the sunlit platform and flew away into the distance. There was a moment’s surprised silence.

“You are full of novelties,” said Paul.

They followed him in the direction of the exit.

THE Land-Rover, driven fast by Paul, sped along a green lane. The hedges, rotund with dusty foliage, bulged over the edge of the road and brushed the vehicle as it passed.

“I hope you’re comfortable there in front, Mrs Greenfield,” said James Tayper Pace. “I’m afraid this is not our most comfortable car.”

“I’m fine,” said Dora. She glanced round and saw James smiling, hunched up and looking very big in the back of the Land-Rover. She could not see Toby, who was directly behind her. She was still completely stunned at having left Paul’s notebook on the train. And his special Italian sun hat. She dared not look at Paul.

“I tried to get the Hillman Minx,” said Paul, “but his Lordship still hasn’t mended it.”

There was silence.

“The train was punctual for once,” said James. “We should be just in time for Compline.”

The road was in shade and the late sun touched the great golden yellow shoulders of the elm trees, leaving the rest in a dark green shadow. Dora shook herself and tried to look at the scene. She saw it with the amazement of the habitual town-dweller to whom the countryside looks always a little unreal, too luxuriant and too sculptured and too green. She thought of far away London, and the friendly dirt and noise of the King’s Road on a summer evening, when the doors of the pubs stand wide to the pavement. She shivered and drew her feet up beside her on the seat for company. Soon she would have to face all those strangers; and after that she would have to face Paul. She wished they might never arrive.

“Nearly there now,” said James. “That’s the wall of the estate we’re just coming to. We follow it for about a mile before we reach the gates.”

An enormous stone wall appeared on the right of the car. Dora looked away to the left. The hedge ended, and she saw across a golden stubble field to a feathery copse. Beyond was a shallow blue line of distant hills. She felt it was her last glimpse of the outside world.

“There’s a fine view of the house when we turn in,”said James. “Can you see all right from where you are, Toby?”

“Very well, thanks,” came Toby’s voice from just behind Dora’s head.