Iris Murdoch - The Sandcastle

It was a quarter past five. Mor jumped up. How the time had fled! He must think about getting back at once. He turned towards the pool and saw Miss Carter’s blue silk dress spread out on a gorse bush and her very small golden sandals perched on a tuft of grass. He turned quickly away again. ‘Miss Carter,’ he called, ‘I think we ought to go fairly soon. I’ll just turn the car round.’

Miss Carter said in a clear voice from somewhere very close to him, ‘Are you sure you can manage?’

‘I can manage,’ said Mor. He climbed gloomily into the Riley and started the engine. How could he have been such a fool as to get himself into this idiotic situation? Tonight all would be plain and clear again. Nan would be hurt and angry. But at least he would be out of the tangle. He hated deeply the feeling that at this very moment he was deceiving her. He put the car into reverse and began to swing it round. He backed it for a little distance along the bank of the river. The Riley moved fast. Mor put the brake on and engaged the first gear. He released the clutch slowly. Nothing happened. He tried again, accelerating slightly. Still nothing happened. The car did not move forward. Mor’s attention came sharply back to the present scene. He checked the hand-brake and went through all the movements again, accelerating hard this time. The car remained where it was, and he could hear a sinister whirring sound as one of the back wheels turned vainly in the undergrowth of sedge and willow herb.

Miss Carter came towards him across the lawn, taking small steps. She had resumed her slightly prim appearance, although the silk dress seemed now to cling even more closely to her body. She was barefoot, carrying her shoes and stockings. ‘What is it?’ she asked a little anxiously.

‘We seem to be stuck for the moment,’ said Mor. He got out.

‘You’re sure you haven’t got the hand-brake on?’ said Miss Carter.

‘Sure,’ said Mor. He walked round to the back of the car. The back wheels were extremely close to the edge of the stream and had entered a thick mass of matted weeds and grasses. The bank fell away here and the undergrowth overhung it in a deceptive manner. Under the canopy of green the earth was damp and sticky. The bank then fell steeply to the water, some feet below. Mor stepped waist deep into the patch of willow herb and saw that the off-side wheel was almost clear of the ground, protruding into the greenery that hung down from the bank towards the water. The other wheel appeared to have sunk into a rather muddy hollow. The front wheels were a foot or two away from the river bank.

‘How’s the situation?’ said Miss Carter. She followed him barefoot, and as he bent forward he saw her small white feet appear in the grass near to his heavy shoes.

Mind the nettles,‘ said Mor. ’It’s all right, I think I see what to do. This wheel is almost at the edge, I’m afraid. But we could move if the other wheel would bite. That one’s stuck in a patch of mud. If we just put some grass and branches underneath it, that should do the trick. Look, I’ll rev the engine again, and you watch the back wheels.‘

No, I’ll rev the engine,‘ said Miss Carter. ’Perhaps the car will move for me.‘ She got in and went through the motions. The same thing happened. The engine roared in vain. Mor could see the back wheels turning, one in the green undergrowth above the water, and the other in the patch of mud. Miss Carter switched off and got out again.

‘Lots of grass and twigs is what we need,’ said Mor. He ran to the edge of the wood and began to pluck armfuls of bracken and tall grass. Miss Carter went a little farther into the wood and gathered small twigs and branches. As she returned Mor saw that her legs were bleeding. They knelt together beside the wheel. Miss Carter smelt of river water. From the wet ends of her hair, as she leaned forward, a little water trickled down towards her bosom. She helped Mor to strew the foliage under the wheel from both sides. With his hand Mor scooped the mud out from under the tyre, and packed in a compact bunch of twigs and ferns.

‘There!’ he said. ‘We ought to get away now. Will you take her, or shall I?’

‘I will,’ said Miss Carter. ‘You watch what happens.’

Mor squatted near the wheel while Miss Carter got in again and started the engine. Breathlessly Mor watched the wheel begin to rotate. It was all right. It was biting well upon the dry bracken. Mor was about to call out, when suddenly something happened. There was a violent jolt, and the car stopped again. Mor saw with surprise that the wheel had risen clear of the ground and was turning in the air. He jumped up.

‘What’s happened now?’ said Miss Carter. She sounded alarmed. The car was tilting towards the river.

Mor ran round the back of the car. He looked at the other back wheel. A section of the bank had given way under it, and it hung in mid-air above the water. The Riley seemed to be resting now upon its back axle, straddled across the bank.

‘Get out of the car,’ said Mor.

‘No, let me try again,’ said Miss Carter.

‘Get out,’ said Mor, ‘at once.’

She got out and joined him. When she saw the position of the back wheels she gave a gasp of distress.

‘I am extremely sorry,’ said Mor. ‘This is all completely my fault. But apologies aren’t much use. The thing is to decide what to do.

‘Supposing,’ said Miss Carter, ‘we were to wedge something under the inside back wheel, and you were to push hard from behind, we might get her to jump forward.’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Mor. ‘We’d have to raise the axle somehow. The car is tilted too much already.’

‘Suppose we jacked her up,’ said Miss Carter, ‘and got her on an even keel and then lowered her slowly again.’

‘We wouldn’t be able to jack her up,’ said Mor. ‘The jack would just sink into that muddy ground. Anyhow, as we lowered her she would just sink into the same position.’

Miss Carter was worried, but by no means distracted. She was thinking hard. Before Mor could stop her, she was crawling underneath the Riley.

Don’t do that, Miss Carter,‘ said Mor sharply. ’With the car tilting like that it’s not safe.‘

Miss Carter emerged. Her knees and the hem of her dress were covered in mud. She had thrown her shoes and stockings away into the grass.

‘I wanted to see what exactly the axle was doing,’ she said. ‘In fact it’s resting on a stone. What I suggest is that we put something large and firm underneath the other wheel, and then dig the stone away. Then the car will be resting on three wheels again.’

‘It’s no use,’ said Mor. ‘What we need now is a tractor.’

‘Well, let’s try this first,’ she said firmly, and already she was running away into the wood. Mor followed her. He felt nothing now except an almost physical distress about the car.

Miss Carter soon found a flat mossy stone and Mor helped her to carry it back towards the river. It was very heavy. Mor took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves. They began to introduce the stone underneath the wheel. It became very muddy and slippery in the process.

‘This is a crazy proceeding,’ said Mor. He squatted back on his heels and looked at his companion. Miss Carter was very flushed. There were patches of mud on the dark red of her cheeks. Her dress was hitched up, and one knee and thigh were embedded in the muddy ground. She looked like something from a circus.

‘We must be careful,’ she said, ‘to see that the stone is tilting from the inside of the car outwards. Then when it takes the weight the car won’t slither any farther towards the river.’

Mor sighed. He could not desert her. He helped her to complete the operation.

‘Now,’ said Mor, ‘the question is, how are we to dig out the stone from under the axle without the whole thing coming down on top of us?’