Iris Murdoch - The Book And The Brotherhood

Duncan was a huge man, said to be 'bear-like', or sometimes 'leonine', stout and tall with a large head and a mass of very dark thick crisply wavy hair which grew well down onto his neck. His big shoulders, habitually rather hunched, gave a look of retained, sometimes menacing, power. He seemed not only clever but formidable. He had a long wavering expressive mouth, dark eyes, and a strange gaze since one of his eyes was almost entirely black, as if the pupil had flowed out over the iris. Hewore dark-rimmed glasses, had anironical stare and a giggling laugh.

`Hello, Tamar, having a lovely time?'

`Yes, thank you. You haven't seen Conrad have you, you know, Conrad Lomas? Oh – perhaps you haven't met him.'

`Yes, I met him at Gerard's, he's a friend of Leonard's, isn't he? No, I haven't seen him. Is he your swain? Where's he got to?'

`I don't know. It's my fault. I left him fora moment.' Feeling she might be going to cry, she closed her eyes hard against the tears.

`I'm sorry, little Tamar,' said Duncan. 'Look, let's go and get ourselves a drink, eh? It'll do us both good.' However he did not get up yet, just replanted his feet and leaned a little more upon the chair in front of him. He was suddenly not sure that he would be able to rise. He gazed at Tamar, thinking how pathetically thin she was, almost anorexic, and how with her hair done like that, cut in a straight bob and parted at the side, she looked like a girl of fourteen. The white ball dress did nothing for her; it looked like a sloppy petticoat. She looked better in her usual rig, a neat blouse and skirt.

Tamar looked anxiously at Duncan. She had taken i nthe scene and could now receive some vibrations of his suffering, which made her feel embarrassed rather than sympathetic. Also, it was clear that Duncan was very drunk, he was red-faced and breathing heavily. Tamar was afraid that at any moment he would fall flat on the ground and she would have to do something about it.

At that moment Duncan heaved himself to his feet. He stood for a moment swaying slightly, then put his hand onto Tamar's thin bare arm to steady himself. 'Let's go and find that drink, shall we?'

They began to make their way toward one of' the exits, passing as they did so near to the dance floor. The band was playing `Night and Day'.

Duncan said, 'Night and day. Yes. Let's dance. You'll dance with me, won't you?'

He swept her onto the dance floor and, suddenly surrendered to the music, found that his legs had lost their stupidity and like well-trained beasts were able to perform the familiar routine. He danced well. Tamar let herself be led, letting the sulky sad rhythm enter her body, she was dancing, it was her first dance that evening. Some tears did now come into her eyes and she wiped them away on Duncan's black coat.

In the jazz tent Rose was dancing with Jenkin. Jenkin had accompanied Gerard back to Levquist's rooms off the cloister where it occurred to them that Duncan might have taken refuge. 'He won't want to see us,' said Gerard. `If he's there it proves he does,' said jenkin. But there was no one in the room. Gerard elected to stay there just in case, while Jenkin, still full of his idea of becoming Duncan's invisible bodyguard, had set offagain. Soon after that he met Rose and felt obliged to ask her to dance. They went to the jazz sound, which was nearest, and Jenkin was dutifully propelling her round the circuit, through the increasingly dense and unbuttoned crowd who, aware of the dawn, had reinvaded the floors. Dancing with Jenkin was a simple and predictable matter since he danced in the same way whatever the music. He had of course told her what he and Gerard had seen. He had even suggested that they should go and have a look in case the performance was being repeated. But Rose had evidently felt this to be bad form, and .Jenkin, dashed, had recognised it to be such.

Rose, feeling perhaps that she had expressed too much emotion upon the subject earlier in the evening, was now trying to play it down. 'I expect Crimond has sheered off and Jean and Duncan have been together for ages. There's nothing to it. Only you'd better not say you saw her with him!'

`Of course I won't, and of'course you're right. But, my God, what cheek!'

`What are you going to do about the book?' said Rose, changing the subject, as Jenkin stepped on her foot. `We, Rose. You're on the committee too.'

`Yes, but I don't count. You and Gerard must decide.'

`We can't do anything,' said Jenkin. He was worrying about Duncan wandering around like a miserable dangerous bear.

Conrad Lomas appeared from nowhere, making his way across the dance floor, thrusting the insensate couples aside.

`Where's Tamar? Have you seen her?'

`We should be asking you that!' said Rose.

Gerard, alone in Levquist's rooms, where the curtains were still pulled against the light, looked gloomily at the chaotic scene, used glasses and empty bottles perched everywhere, on the mantelpiece, on the chairs, on the tables, on the bookcases, on the floor. How can we have used so many glasses, he thought. Of course one loses one's glass oftener and oftener as the evening goes on! And damn it, there are no sandwiches left, or only one and it hasn't got any cucumber in it. He ate the limp piece of bread, then poured himself' out some champagne. He was tired of the stuff, but there was nothing else to drink. Jenkin had claimed to have hidden a bottle of whisky in Levquist's bedroom 'for later', only Gerard did not feel strong enough to search for it. He fervently hoped that Levquist's scout would be able to clear up the mess before Levquist returned after breakfast. He must remember to tip the man. Then lie recalled with anguish that he had, inthe electric storm of his visit to Levquist, forgotten to thank him for the loan of the room, a notable privilege since other distinguished old pupils were certainly also in the field. He began to plan a gracefully apologetic letter. Levquist would of course have observed the omission and probably derived malicious pleasure from it. Hethen reflected upon the interesting fact that ever since 'that business', now so far in the past, Levquist had never, in meetings with Gerard or Jenkin, mentioned Crimond's name, although he usually referred to the others, and Crimond too had been his pupil and one of the group. Someone must have told him. Gerard then wondered, not for the first time, whether Crimond kept up any sort of friendship with Levquist. Perhaps he had been to see him this very evening! How horrible, how somehow poisonous it was, Crimond being here. Gerard shared Rose's reaction of: how dare he! To which .jenkin had rationally replied: why not? But dancing wittijean… Gerard had noticed with displeasure how the whole episode, in so far as it could be called that, seemed to have excited Jenkin. Gerard found it shocking, sickening, thoroughly ill-omcned and bad. He wondered if he were drunk, then, how drunk he was. The telephone rang. He lifted the receiver. 'Hello.'

`Could I speak to Mr Hernshaw, if he's there?'

`Pat -'

`Oh Gerard – Gerard – he's gone -'

Gerard reassembled his thoughts. His father was dead.

`Gerard, are you still there?'

`Yes.'

`He's died. We didn't expect it, did we, the doctor didn't say – it just happened – so – suddenly – he – and he was dead -'

`Are you alone?'

`Yes, of course! It's five o'clock in the morning! Who do you think I could get to be with me?'

`When did he die?'

`Oh – an hour ago – I don't know -'

Gerard thought, what was I doing then? 'And were you with him -?'

`Yes! I was asleep with the doors open – about one or so I heard him moaning and I went in and he was sitting up and -and mumbling in a ghastly high voice, and he kept jerking his arms and staring all round the room, and he wouldn't look at me – and he was white, as white as the wall, and his lips were white – and I tried to give him a pill but – I tried to make him lie back, I wanted him to sleep again, I thought if he can only rest, if he can only sleep – and then his breathing – became so awful -'