John Fowles - The Magus

Conchis came up beside us and looked at her so long that she frowned.

“Not very convincing, my dear. From an actress of your caliber.”

She sensed at once that something was wrong; flashed a look at me, saw me smiling; then back at Conchis.

“Has… ?”

Her eyes accused mine.

“My dear Julie, I asked too much. I miscalculated. Nicholas has made me understand how much.”

She said to me, “You haven’t—”

“No. Nicholas has done nothing. Our little final plan—we forget it.”

I reached out a hand and she took it hesitantly, still bewildered.

“But you said…”

“Never mind. It is better so.”

Joe appeared in the music-room door, with two heavy suitcases.

Conchis said, “Hermes will help you.”

“Aw come on. You know that joke about the white man’s burden? They make it, we carry it.”

I watched Julie’s face. She gave an almost indignant look at Conchis, then frowned again; then smiled, ruefully; then glanced at me. Joe was grinning at her.

“Sorry, baby. There were times I could have said worlds.”

Conchis said, “Joe is a very promising young actor from America. I’m afraid he played his part rather too well.”

She said, “I’m afraid he has.”

Joe put down the cases. “No hard feelings?” He put out his hand and she shook it, though like myself, tentatively. She kept on looking at me, with a vague hint of hurt suspicion in her eyes, as if I might still be in the conspiracy.

“Well, one thing,” said Joe, “now you both got the same person to hate. Nice for you.” He picked up the suitcases and started dowrt the steps. But he paused a moment and grinned goodbye back at us.

Conchis came forward.

“Well. I will say no more. Julie, you will stay… as long as you wish. I have told Hermes.”

She looked at me. “Maurice has lent me his house in the village. That was the surprise.”

I smiled at him. “A very nice one.”

Julie said, “I’m so sorry, Maurice. I’ve ruined everything.”

“My dear, perhaps this year… perhaps I hoped for too much. But next year. Who knows? There may be an English master at the school who has newly married?” His dark eyes fficked momentarily at me. “And we shall see. I have an idea that requires… but not now.”

He put his hands tenderly on her shoulders, gave her a long look. “I am forgiven?” She smiled, and he leant forward and kissed her on both cheeks and patted her avuncularly.

There were more footsteps on the gravel: Hermes coming back from the beach. Simultaneously I became aware of the till then unconsciously heard sound of an airplane. He called to us in Greek, “It is coming.” Julie came beside me and I put my arm round her and kissed the side of her head. Conchis was moving, speaking in Greek to Hermes, giving instructions.

She breathed something I hardly heard. “Oh I’ve so missed you. You got my letter?” I chueked her shoulder. “Why’s he canceled—”

Conchis turned, as Hermes walked back to the cottage. “Now, Hermes has lunch ready for you. Then he is going to lock up and if you wish to go back in the boat…”

“I’d rather walk.”

“He can carry your case then. And I will telephone June.”

Julie said, “Oh please do.”

I could see the plane, a seaplane, coming in to land off Bourani; an echo.

“The colonel’s arriving.”

Conchis smiled. “No. But Greece’s only air-taxi.” He faced me. “Nicholas. After all.” It was not an adverbial phrase.

Taking me by one hand and Julie by the other, he raised his eyes with a sort of tender irony. “'Look down, you gods, and on this couple drop a blessed crown.”

Then he let go of our hands and started down the steps.

We followed. But he turned quickly and pushed us back with his hands, both upraised, forbidding, though with a smile—he had his briefcase in one hand and the hieratic gesture was guyed.

Julie called, “Next year.” He lowered his arms then, and made a kind of openhanded final-curtain bow before turning and going on. We let him drop out of sight, then we went down to the seat beside the path. We saw Maria and Joe were already sitting in the boat. Conchis and Hermes appeared. The green seaplane was taxiing back slowly towards the land. A man in khaki dungarees clambered down onto the port float and got ready to hold the boat as it came alongside. We saw the three passengers wave. Maria went into the cabin, then Conchis, then Joe, and the suitcases were passed up as well. Then boat and seaplane drifted apart, and the latter swung round into the wind. The engine roared, twin white trails, and in a very short time it was airborne, heading first southeast, then climb-banking steeply to the left, Athensward.

I turned to Julie. “What was the last scene that wasn’t?”

She gave me a grave, searching look. “You didn’t know?”

“Look, I’m the victim. Not you.”

She stared at me, then she pointed at the disappearing plane. “I was to be on it, you were to think I’d decided to go to America. You would have left here feeling… a little miserable?” I kissed her hair again. “But the plane would have landed the other side of the island. I was to go to the school. Perhaps wait in your room. You’d have come back—”

I smiled. “I almost wish he’d done it.”

“I’d love to have seen your face. But what’s happened? What did you say to him?”

I pulled her round. She had a pale lipstick on, her tilt-cornered eyes had been accentuated by a pencil; and she was wearing a bra for the first time. I had yet another Julie to discover.

I said, “Later.”

We saw Hermes climbing the path towards us. Julie sat up and smoothed back her hair. Every time she had tried to speak I had stopped her. Now she stood and looked down at me, almost sullenly, a strange new face.

“What’s wrong?”

“You.”

She turned away. I stood behind her and put my hands on her hips; kissed the side of her neck.

Hermes came toiling up the path in his methodical peasant way. We stood apart. He said he would lay the lunch “Maria” had left, and passed on. Slowly, hand in hand, we followed him back towards the house.

“Come on. I hear he’s told you the final, ultimate, absolute truth.”

She looked amazed, then teased, then amused; bowed her head with laughter. I jerked her hand.

“What’s so funny?”

“Can’t you guess?” Her bright eyes sideways on mine.

“He…”

She nodded. “He told us you would be told everything last night.”

I looked to the east. “The last laugh. I might have known.”

“Perhaps he’ll tell June.”

“Where is she?”

“In Athens.”

“You must have had more confidence in Maurice than I did.”

“She’s waiting to hear from me. We’ve agreed on a code. If I say Emily it means, Everything’s fine, wait till I write. If I say Charlotte, it means, Come at once. If I say Anne, it means, Stay where you are till I come.”

“Emily?”

“Emily.”

Her fingers laced into mine. I told her about the episode on the ridge, about what had happened that morning. We wandered through the vegetable garden and sat on the ground in the shade of the two loquats at the end. She took off her coat and lay back.

“Maurice has been sweet these last two or three days. He’s letting us keep our contract money.”

I kissed the palm of her hand. “Was he really disappointed?”

“I felt… well, he did say. We were only just beginning the real play when we stopped.”

I looked down at her, at the shadows on her throat.

“Are you disappointed?”

She looked at me, smiled, and shook her head.