Iris Murdoch - The Book And The Brotherhood

`It is love,' said Crimond. 'You are misunderstanding me.'

`When did you think of all this, three days ago? How can I take you seriously?'

`Of course you must be surprised, and perhaps you resent my direct approach, but -'Then he suddenly cried out loudly, `Oh God, I could explain it all!' Then he said, quietly again, `When can we meet – please -'

`I don't "resent" it,' cried Rose, 'I'm not interested enough to resent anything! I don't want to discuss your feelings. You are an enemy of people that I love, you are a person whom I utterly reject. I don't want to see you, I ask you to go and not to trouble me with any more of this nonsense. Now please go away, and understand that I don't want to see you again!'

She moved from the table and went to open the door. Looking back at him she saw his face for a moment blaring with emotion. The next moment, still flushed, he resumed his impassive expression. He walked as far as the middle of the rom where he stopped, drew his heels together and bowed slightly. Then he went past her through the doorway, picked his is coat in the hall, and left the flat closing the door quietly behind him.

Rose stood still. His sudden departure, his absence, came to its a strange shock. He was no longer there – and she was trading alone in the most terrible storm of her own emotions. How could he have come to say such a thing, to upset her so, to hurt her so! She felt, in that moment, dreadfully dreadfully hurt, ended, as if he had rejected her, not she him. How could he unfeelingly, so brutally, have put her in a situation where she was forced to behave as she had just behaved! I shouldn't live spoken like that, she thought, I lost my head, I shouldn’t have been cool and collected and courteous, and not let him stay so long and say so much. I should have asked him to go away at the start. Of course I ought not to have let him come at all. I was too unkind, and it wasn't exactly what I felt either. I did like him then, at Oxford, I admired him, we all did. Oh I shall regret this so much, it will cause me so much pain later, that I behaved so stupidly, so badly.

Then she thought, I'll run after him. Then she thought, but I would be undignified and would give the wrong impression. Then she found herself dragging open the door of the flat and running down the stairs.

The air outside met her with a tidal wave of cold. She stood on the frosty slippery pavement and looked up and down. Had he come by car? Had he driven off already? He was not in sight. She ran to the corner and looked both ways along the next road. A car some distance away was just pulling out and dissappearing. She ran back, past her house, slipping on the pavement and grasping the railings to prevent a fall. She walked scanned another road but could not see him. She walked slowly back and in again at the wide open door and up the himrs. She shut herself into the flat and leaned back against the door. She was gasping aloud. What was the matter with her? Why did it now seem the most important thing in the world to find Crimond and bring him back and talk to him and go on talking to him? Why ever had she let him go? Why had she spoken to him in such a crude cruel way? What could he be thinking of her now, he so proud a man, who had trusted It with so amazing an admission? He had said, surely she would understand such a thing. Yes, yes, she would, she did. She was deeply moved by that captive love which had never died. She believed him. She ought to have thanked him for loving her with such a love.

Rose began to walk about in her sitting room, up and down up and down. The sun had gone, and she turned on the light. Was it possible that somehow, within a period of minutes, she had fallen in love with Crimond? Wh ywas I so aggressive, final, she thought. Really, he has done me an honour – even he only thought of me as a life-line. I was so haughty, so awful so vulgarly conceited, talking of his insulting me by saying lhe loved me. I ought to have been grateful. I didn't have to reject him like that, to drive him away, to be so rude. I could hit said I'd see him again. I ought to have done so anyway out compassion. Why couldn't I even feel sorry for him, there would have been no harm in that. He looked so tired and so sad. I can still tell him, I can hear that explanation he said he could make. Only he won't forgive me for what I've said, he won't think I'm sincere. Oh what is happening to me, and what have I done!

Rose was aware, now, that she was intensely flattered by Crimond's homage. He, so fastidious, so aloof, had come it, her as a suppliant. He said he loved her and had always loved her. Of course he is mad, she thought, I always believed he was mad. But how different that madness seemed now when it was expressed as love for her. I must see him again, slip thought, I must see him today. I can't go on without seeing him. I'll ring him up, he may be home by now. She began to look in the telephone book, then remembered he had said he had no telephone. She thought, I'll drive to his house. But what could she say when she was there, what reason could she give, her appearance could only seem like a total surrender, and supposing he rejected her. Then I should go mad too, slip thought, I am mad – but it's such a pain, I must relieve the path somehow, oh why didn't I keep him here at least while I thought about it! I'll write him a letter and then run out and post it.I’ve got to do something or my heart will burst. I'll write a careful letter and suggest that we have another talk soon, I'll say I was sorry I was so rude, and I didn't mean to be, I'll say…

With a sense of relief she set out pen and paper and sat down the table. She began hastily to write.

My de ar David,

I am sorry I spoke so ungraciously to you today. What you had to say to me by surprise, it frightened me and I instinctively thrust it aside. I want now to thank you very much for the honour you have done me. I be lieve that you are sincere and I appreciate your feelings. 1 confess that you have disturbed me. I would like to see you again in order to efface the unpleasant impression which I must have made. I hope you will forgive It would, I think, be a good thing for both of us if we could talk tither more peacefully and quietly. I will, if I may, write to you again shortly and suggest another meeting. With affectionate regards,

Yours,

Rose.

Rose read this through carefully, then crossed out the sentences about being disturbed and hoping to be forgiven, and wrote the letter out again. The writing of it relieved the it. She was still looking at it when the telephone bell rang. Her immediate thought was, it's him, he feels just as I do, that We must meet again. She ran to the telephone, fumbling clumsily to pick it up.

‘Hello, Rose, it's me,' said Gerard's voice.

Gerard. She had so completely forgotten Gerard's existence that she gave a little exclamation of surprise, and then was silent holding the instrument away from her. She could hear Gerard saying, 'Hello, Rose, is that you?'

She said, 'Could you hold on a moment, I must turn twilling off in the kitchen.'

She went away into the kitchen and looked at a row of matching red saucepans standing in order of size. She went back to the telephone.

Nes?' `Rose, what's the matter?'

`Nothing's the matter.'

`You sound very odd.'

`What did you want?'

"'What did I want?" What sort of a question is that? I’m just ringing you up! Are you ill?'

`No, no, I'm sorry -'

`I did want to ask you something actually, do you know when Jean and Duncan are coming back?'