Iris Murdoch - Bruno’s Dream

Diana stood in the middle of the room halfway to the door and looked out of the window at the plump grey folds of cloud which were passing in a rapid seething surge behind the chimney of the power station. A sick fear rose up in her throat. She had the power to blot out all the suffering years. She had loved Miles, she still utterly and agonizingly loved him. But was not the future now simply the long grey time of the extinction of love? He would never forgive her because of that sacrifice. And she would never forgive him. They would watch each other grow cold. But if she quitted the scene, if she went, utterly went, she would be the preserver of love: his love, hers, Lisa’s. Was not this, so plainly and for all of them, the answer and the only answer?

Diana caught her breath and almost staggered. She moved to the door and picked up the bottle of sleeping tablets. She opened the door.

A lanky dark-haired man was standing on the landing just outside the door. “Oh!” said Diana. The immobility and sudden closeness of the figure seemed menacing and uncanny.

”I beg your pardon,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I was listening to see if anyone was with Bruno.” Diana closed the door and slipped the bottle of tablets into her handbag. “I was talking to him but he fell asleep.”

”My name is Nigel. I’m the nurse. Nigel the Nurse. I sup pose I should say the male nurse, the way people say women writers, though I don’t see why they should, do you, as more women are writers than men are nurses. Wouldn’t you agree?”

”I’m afraid I must be going,” said Diana. She began to go down the stairs.

However before she could reach the front door Nigel had darted past her into the hall. He now stood with his back to the door. “Don’t go just yet.”

”I’m in a hurry,” said Diana.

”Not just yet.”

She stood uncertainly, facing him. His face was very bland, almost sleepy, as he leaned floppily against the door with arms outspread against it. She felt confused and alarmed. “Get out of the way, please.”

”No, Mrs. Greensleave.”

”You know who I am-“

”I know you well. Come in here a minute, I want to speak to you. Please.”

He took hold of the strap of her handbag and tugged her gently in the direction of the front room. The room smelt of dust and damp and disuse and the curtains were half drawn. “This is the drawing room. But no one ever comes in here, as you can see. Please sit down.” He gave Diana a little push and she fell over onto the brown plush sofa, raising a puff of dust which made her sneeze. Nigel pulled the curtains back and let in the cold cloudy afternoon light.

”What do you want?”

”There’s something you ought to know.”

”What?”

”Danby loves your sister.”

Diana stared at him as he swayed to and fro against the window. “I think you are confused,” she said. “Danby scarcely knows my sister.”

”He knows her enough to be madly in love with her.”

”I think you must be mixing my sister up with me. Not that Danby-Anyway it’s nothing to do with you.”

”I’m not mixing you up. He liked you. Then he met Lisa and fell in love.”

”You are mistaken,” said Diana. She began to rise.

”Well, look at this.” Nigel thrust into her hand a much-torn piece of paper which had been reconstituted with the help of adhesive tape. It was a first draft of Danby’s second letter to Lisa.

Diana read it through. Then it fell from her fingers onto the floor. She leaned back into the sofa and stared ahead of her. This was surely a sign. She knew now, and knew it quite clearly that Danby’s love would have kept her from suicide. But now-Lisa had taken Danby too. Diana clutched her handbag, feeling the bottle of tablets inside it. She thought, I will go home, no I will go to a hotel, and do it at once. This is the end. Danby too. Lisa had annexed the world. A tear rolled down her cheek. She had forgotten Nigel’s presence.

He had sat down beside her. “I thought you ought to know in case it made any difference.”

”It makes no difference,” she said, wiping away the tear. She began to get up.

”Wait. I’ve got something else to say.”

”What about?”

”About Miles and Lisa. You mustn’t be desperate.”

”How do you know all these things?”

”Because I am God. Maybe this is how God appears now in the world, a little unregarded crazy person whom everyone pushes aside and knocks down and steps upon. Or it can be that I am the false god, or one of the million million false gods there are. It matters very little. The false god is the true God. Up any religion a man may climb.”

”Let me go,” said Diana. Nigel had taken her by the shoulders.

”You must not be resentful. You must not be angry with them. There must be not a speck of resentment, not a speck of anger. That is a task, that is the task. To make a new heaven and a new earth. Only you can do it. And it is possible, it is possible.”

”Let me go. It’s no business of yours.”

”It is my business. I love you.”

”Don’t be silly, we’ve never met before.”

”We have met. I was painting the railings. I had paint in my hair.”

”But surely that was-someone else-“ Diana put her hand to her face. She felt she must be going slightly mad.

”Besides I love everybody.”

”Then it can’t be love. Take your hands away, please.”

”Why not? Didn’t I tell you I was God?”

”I think you must be mad-or drugged.”

”Maybe. May I call you Diana, Diana? Do you know that you’re rather beautiful?” Nigel began to slide his arms round the back of her shoulders. Diana struggled, but he was amazingly strong.

”Do you want me to start screaming?”

”You won’t scream. Besides, who would rescue you? Bruno? I just want to hold you ever so lovingly while I talk to you.”

Diana, her arms pinioned, tried to get some purchase with her knee. More clouds of dust arose out of the old sofa. Diana began to sneeze again and Nigel’s grip tightened. Tears of helplessness and misery coursed down her face. She stopped struggling.

”There, there, don’t fight poor Nigel, he loves you. You must forgive Miles and Lisa.”

Diana let the tears flow for a while. She was unable to wipe them away because of the closeness of Nigel’s embrace. She said at last, “How?”

”Let them trample over you in their own way. Perhaps they have done the right thing, though they have done it proudly, riding on horses. Their pride has its little necessities. See and pardon.”

”There is also my pride,” said Diana.

”Abandon it. Let it fall away like a heavy stone.”

”It hardly concerns me,” she said, “that they have done the right thing. They have made a great sacrifice. I’ve got to be grateful. But I can’t be. They love each other terribly.”

”Each loves himself more. Their love for themselves and for their own lives left them no other way. They have sacrificed nothing. They have just decided to do what will make them flourish.”

”I can’t discuss this with you,” said Diana. But she did not now try to draw herself away.

”You are discussing it with me, my dear. The terrible thing is that nobody will die of this! Miles will flourish, and you will watch him kindly, as if you were watching a child.”

”They should have gone away together. He’ll resent it forever. He’ll despise me. There can be no love between us anymore. I cannot bear his thoughts, his thoughts about her, his thoughts about me.”

”A human being hardly ever thinks about other people. He contemplates fantasms which resemble them and which he has decked out for his own purposes. Miles’s thoughts cannot touch you. His thoughts are about Miles. This too you must see and forgive. He will be pleased with himself and you will see him smiling.”