Iris Murdoch - The Book And The Brotherhood

When he got back to his house the telephone was ringing. It was Rose. He told her about his visit to Violet. Rose was rested in this, but had rung up for another purpose. She just wanted to hear his voice, and to hear him say, as he duly said, 'Good night, darling, sleep well.'

Gerard, in pyjamas and dressing gown, sat on his bed, upright as when he had seen and not seen the children feeding the ducks. Long after Rose was in bed and asleep he sat there motionless reviewing the events of the evening. He waited, allowing the stormy waves of his disturbed feelings to calm down. He breathed. He wished very much that he had been able to accept Jenkin's invitation to stay and sit quietly 'and have another drink and listen to the rain. And they could have looked at each other and, without speech, composed a new understanding. Well, there would be other times; and perhaps Tamar's coming, though it made impossible that quiet different continuation of their talk, had been a sort of sign. They had been thinking about themselves and each other, when suddenly the urgent needs of someone, whom they were both concerned to cherish, had intruded upon them. This also was a bond, and would enable a natural and immediate continuation of their business together. With this thought, Gerald could even enjoy, transforming it into a wry humility, his annoyance that Tamar had preferred Jenkin to himself as the one to run to!

Gerard thought, gentling himself into calmness, at least I made my little speech, it did express exactly what I meant, it said enough and said it simply – and whatever happens, and I must be prepared for nothing to happen, I shall be glad I told him what I felt. Surely after this he won't go away – he won’t want to, and he'll see he can't.

But later on, after Gerard had lain himself down to sleep, and had slept and wakened in the dark, he felt such a strangeness because he had, for the first time ever, been with Jenkin and been the weaker man. He had come to him its as a beggar, standing before him without authority. He had exchanged his power for an infinite vulnerability, and forced Jenkin to be his executioner. And as he now thought of Jenkin and of the necessity of Jenkin all sorts of hitherto unimaginable pictures rose up in his mind, and he thought, I must not begin to want what I cannot have. Why did I see it before as something simple? I was so set on saying my little piece, as if that in itself could secure some morsel of my heart's desire, so that something at least would be safe. I thought I might make a fool of myself- but now, what have I done to his imagination and to mine? I never dreamed that things could go badly wrong and that between his good will and mine we might be put in hell. Perhaps I have brought about something terrible, for him, and for me.

‘Let me see you turn the headlights up,'said Crimond.

Jean turned them up.

'Now dip them and turn them full up again several times.'

She did so. She was sitting in her car with the door open, Crimond was standing beside her in the dark. His car, with its lights on, was just in front of hers. It was three o'clock in the morning and they were on the Roman Road.

The rain had gone away, the colder stiller weather had returned, the moon had risen, the stars were visible. Jean was trembling violently.

'You can drive?' said Crimond.

'Yes, of course.'

They were on the crest of a hill from which a long view of the road, undulating straight onward, was visible by daylight. There was, from the point at which they had stopped, a dip, then a rise, then a mild descent followed by a steady gentle rise to another crest nearly two miles ahead.

‘When I get there I'll signal by putting my headlights up slowly three times, and you reply in the same way. If there's any snag, I can't think what snag there could be, we haven't seen another car since we left the main road, but if there is anything I'll flick the lights quickly a number of times to mean wait. And of course you do the same. Then after the first signals, meaning that I'm there and you've seen me, a pause, then the same thing again, both of us together, slowly head-lights up three times. You remember all this, we've repeated it over and over.'

'Of course I remember.'

'After the second lot of slow threes, set off at once. Drive with dipped headlights of course, we don't want to dazzle each other. All you have to do is keep onthe left, the road isn't very broad so I don't think anything can go wrong. Leave the rest to me. Don't forget to fasten your seat belt, freakish things can happen, you must be in the car. Don't muff it, well you won't, we don't want to end up in a couple of wheel chairs, there mustn't be any accidents here. Remember we'll lose sight of each other when you're in the dip, after you come over the hump it’s just a little down, then the long rise. If I’d thought, we might have done it the other way round, but it dosen’t matter now, and your car is more powerful than mine – it'll be simple, it'll be easy, only for heaven's sake put your foot down, we want to be doing at least eighty when we meet. You won’t lose control of the car?'

`No, of course not.'

`Don't risk that – but you won't, you're a perfect driver- get up a great pace, you needn't look at the speedometer, you can entrust the velocity to me, just get up a pace and keep going and stay on the left. That's all I think. Now, I'll get in my car. We agreed we'd said our goodbyes – only they're not goodloy we'll be together now, always.'

As he turned quickly to go Jean got out of the car and followed him a step or two, putting her hand on his shoulder. She felt him shudder and start away and as he stepped back their hands touched. She stood still, watched him get into his car and close the door, heard him start the engine, then watched the rear lights of the car and the flying headlights rush down into the dip, surmount the rise, become invisible for a moment, then appear again on the long rise toward the distant crest. She got back into the car and closed the door and fastened her seat belt.

Jean's car was a Rover, the more powerful of the two Crimond's was a Fiat. Jean found herself thinking about the cars. She liked her car, and now she was going to crash it, to smash it to pieces. She thought of Duncan for a moment, she were asking herself whether he would mind about the car. Then she thought, leaning back in her seat and feeling almost sleepy, am I dreaming? Is this a dream? It must be. I've thought about this all the time since Crimond started talking about it, now I'm dreaming it. Her head jerked and it was like mild up. It was not a dream, she had come to the place they talked of, at the time they had talked of, the time had come and she thought about what was going to happen and she felt cold and black with terror. She began to tremble again and her jaw was shaking. She felt very sick, ready to vomit but unable to do so. Automatically she started the engine. As she did so she thought, there's time yet. I could run into the wood and be sick, I could go mad and wander away among the trees and sit down somewhere. Why need this concern me any more? Did we not do it just by talking about it? Why do I have to do thing more, is it not already over? She had not noticed the air. Now she wound up the window and thought, it's warmer in the car. She was wearing a short coat. Her handbag im the seat beside her. Why had she brought that with her? The intense sick feeling appeared as a sense of time. The condensed mass of all her recent thoughts and feelings was

exploding inside her head. She was beyond logic and contrary things could be true.

She had tried, over the last days, to fathom her love, to try, as she always tried, to find out what he wanted and to be as he wanted. She had believed, for some of the time, indeed, and perhaps now, that it was a test of courage. It was the sort of thing Crimond did, it was Russian roulette again, the gun which he pretended was loaded when it was not. He had, he said, wanted to see her courage. She said, to see my love? Yes, your love, it's the same. This was it again now, he needed like a drug the regular evidence, to see she was his; and she was his, she come to the Roman Road, to this horrible charade, this scene of torture, because she could not gainsay him, she had to obey. She had not to fail – either then – or now. If she failed he would leave her. But – if she passed she would die? She thoght, he'll save us at the last moment, that will be like him. I’ll stay on the left and he will simply pass, me by, or he'll come at me and then swerve away. He said, leave the rest to me. Well, this is all I can do, that is all of my life now. We'll meet again after and embrace and shed tears and dance. That is how it will be; and then our love will be reinforced, increased a thousand fold, deified. This is the experience of death after one becomes immortal. But, she thought, supposing it is death, supposing it is really death he wants, and that we shall mingle with each other in death and become a legend? Well, if he chooses that, as the final consummation of our love, that too is what I will; she gave a little cry like a bird and a kind of ecstasy of fear so possessed her body that it was as if it were emitting light. I have surrendered my life to him and if he takes it, well, and if he spares it, well. This is the climax that my life was for, the time which is worth all the rest, which redeems the rest of time. I can no other, and in that I must be at peace. Yet still she thought, it is impossible that we shall not meet again, it is impossible that we shall not be together again and talk of this. If the gods are to reward us we must be there to be rewarded – unless this is now our reward to live the last moments of our lives in this way.