Iris Murdoch - The Book And The Brotherhood

`Yes,' said Gulliver humbly, helping himself to another glass of Lily's whisky.

They were sitting, in Lily's bedroom, in armchairs which they had drawn up in front of the blazing fire, onto which Gulliver had just tossed some extra bits of wood from the Gasket at the side. Sparks which leapt out onto the rug had been hastily stamped upon. Several lamps were lit in the room which was dominated by the huge double bed with its old carved dark oak headboard .The wallpaper, blue with a lattice drsign, had faded into powdery obscurity, and the furniture, over-awed by the bed, was diffident and shabby. An oak chest under a hanging mirror served as a dressing table, a sideboard without its doors made a bookcase, a small octagonal table near the window supported more books, novels by Lawrence and Virginia Woolf chosen by Rose for Lily, and Lily's book on Thailand not yet opened. A little green sofa upholstered in much worn green velvet in flower and leaf patterns occupied the space between the windows. There were several water-coolours representin gthe Yorkshire property and the 'old big house' which had been sold by Rose's great-great grandfather. Over the fireplace there was a large modern red and orange and black abstract painting, which Gerard had brought from Gideon for Rose when Rose, prompted by Jean, had admired it at an exhibition. It later became a favourite of Jean and Duncan and was hung in their room and called ‘their’ painting.

'Ate you going to church tomorrow?' said Lily. 'Do we have to?’

‘I’m not sure,' said Gulliver, 'I hope not.'

‘You’ve been here before, haven't you?'

'No.'

'I got the impression you had been. You were telling me all about it.’

'I was putting on an act. I'm not only coarse, I'm disingenous.

'Let's not go to church. We could go to the pub. There's one in the village, Jenkin said.'

'It won't be open till twelve.'

'Oh. Sunday.'

'I suppose we could go for a walk.'

'If we aren't snowed in. Wouldn't it be fun to be marooned here like people in a detective story!'

'I don't think so.'

'I wonder if it's still snowing, let's look.'

They went to one of the windows and dragged back the heavy velvet curtains and thrust up the sash. No diamond paned Gothic on this facade. A wall of icy air advanced into the room. 'Turn out the lights,' said Lily.

They stood in the darkness leaning out of the window. The snow had ceased. A single distant light, a faint yellow spot, showed the outskirts of the village. The white landscape was invisible. But up above, the curtain of cloud had, over a part of the heavens, been rolled back and they could actually see stars, one star in particular very bright, and round about and beyond a hazy mass of other stars, a thick golden fuzz of superimposed stars, almost, at the zenith, completely covering the black dome of the sky; and as they looked in the midst of the gold dust, a star fell quickly and vanished, then another star fell. 'Good Lord,' said Lily, in a low voice. 'I've never seen a falling star before, and now I've seen two.'

After a few moments they stepped back, closed the window and drew the curtain. Gull put the lights on again and they looked at each other.

Gulliver, fortunately informed beforehand by Gerard that he need not bring evening dress, was wearing his best dark suit, white shirt, and soberly spotted bow tie. He had not been too drunk to comb down his sleek oily dark hair surreptitiously as he came up the stairs. This sleekness gave him a slightly sinister look (which pleased him) but also (he did not realise) made him look older. He looked thin, thin-faced, sallow, hungry and tired, like a minor character playing an unsuccessful lawyer or ill-intentioned priest. Only his pure brown eyes (like a pond of obscure but fragrant water, someone in a gay bar once told him) retained a childish boyish expression of uncertainty and fear. Lily, who had been wearing at dinner a long close-fitting dress covered with green sequins, which everyone politely said made her look like a mermaid, had now changed (not caring that Gull saw her momentarily in her petticoat) into a magnificent dark blue and white dressing gown. Lily looked tired too and a little petulant. A fold of stained lizardish skin descended over one of her pale brown dark-rimmed eyes. She moistened her thin silver lips and fluffed up her scanty pale dry hair. (Gull's hair would have looked better if he had fluffed it up occasionally instead of combing it down.) They returned to their chairs by the fire.

'Do you believe in flying saucers,' said Lily, 'do you think people from other galaxies are coming here to observe us?'

'No.'

'I do. It's immensely probable. There are millions of planets like ours. Of course they don't want us to see them. They're wailing books about us.'

'All right, maybe they're here and we can't see them, maybe they're in this room. The point is they make no difference.'

'How do you know? How do you know how different things would be if they weren't there?'

'They might be better. They couldn't be worse. So they can’t care much. When they've finished their books they'll wipe us out, and a good thing too.'

'Of course the whole universe will end one day. So what's the point, if it's all ending, what's the use of anything? I wonder if this house is haunted, I must ask Rose. It's near to a ley line.'

'What makes you think so?'

'I feel it. Roman roads run along ley lines. What do you think about ley lines?'

'I think they're things that don't make any difference, like saucers.’

' They’re physical, you know, you can find them by dowsing, where two underground streams meet. And they're concentrations of thought-energy too, where human beings have been, all those legions marching along, all those emotions!'

‘If the legions made the energy no wonder the ley line runs along the road.'

‘Oh, but it's cosmic energy too, like in stone circles. A ley line runs through Stonehenge. Are there any Stones above here? They all connect, you see.'

'I believe there's a stone of some sort in the wood.'

'I'll go and look at it, if it's charged with energy I'll know, My grandmother used to say -'

'Lily, this is all nonsense, it's irrational!'

'You're irrational, you won't look at evidence, you just know! I say, do you think I ought to go and see Tamar? She's eating practically nothing and she's as pale as a fish.'

'She's always pale and eats nothing, and she'll be asleep now. Let's have some more whisky.'

'Poor Tamar, oh poor poor little Tamar -'

'Lily -'

'Rose has such a calm smooth face, and she's so much older than me. My face looks bombed. You know, they've got it in for Crimond, they're going to smash him.'

'Who are?'

'They, the little earthly gods, the smarties, the know-alls. I heard them talking after dinner. God, I think I'm drunk, I'm seeing double or perhaps it's Saucer people.'

'Lily, dear, stop raving will you?'

'I'm on Crimond's side, I know you hate him, but I don't -‘

'Lily, just stand up for a moment, please.'

They stood together before the fire and Gulliver put his arms round her waist, drawing her up against him. He felt her thin hard fragile brittle body against his, then suddenly her heartbeat.

'Now let's sit down, over here.'

They moved to the little green sofa and Lily sat on Gulliver's knee and buried,her face in the shoulder of his best suit covering it with make-up.

'You know, I'd better tell you, I'm running out of money, the accountant told me, God knows where it's all gone to, people only care about my money, I'm nothing, I'm just a shell, I'm like a squashed snail -'

'Lily, stop it! Look, can I stay here tonight?'

'You don't know how awful it is to be me -'

'Can I stay -?'