Iris Murdoch - The Sandcastle

The doorhandle was made of yellow crystalline glass and slippery to the touch. Donald took it very firmly in both hands and began to turn it. He opened the door sufficiently to put his head through. Its opening had made no sound. It seemed now as if no sound could be made in this silent and untenanted house. Donald was still for a moment, and then he leaned gently through the door and entered the room. With a breath of relief Felicity followed him. The room was empty.

Once they were inside with the door shut a wild glee overcame them, and they began to dance noiselessly about the room waving their arms. Felicity paused and drew the supersonic whistle from her pocket. She was about to blow a tremendous supersonic blast upon it when Donald stopped her.

‘But it won’t make a sound if I — ’ Felicity began to explain in a whisper. It was too much for them both. Convulsed with helpless silent giggling they fell in a heap upon the bed.

‘But you said -’ Felicity began again in a whisper. It was no good. They lay there writhing with smothered laughter.

At last Donald rose, pulled Felicity up and set the bed to rights. ‘Now quick,’ he whispered, ‘find what we want and go. What shall we take?’

‘Stockings,’ said Felicity firmly. She suspected that Donald had other ideas, and felt a sudden feminine wish to protect Miss Carter against his depredations. They began to flit about the room, opening drawers.

‘Here we are,’ murmured Felicity. She drew a pair of nylon stockings out of a top drawer, waved them at Donald, and put them in her pocket. They turned to go. Felicity took a last look round the room. She picked up the flowers which she had left on a chair. The writing-desk beside the window stood open, littered with papers. Felicity went over to it and began turning them over.

‘Come on!’ hissed Donald.

Felicity said, ‘Why, here’s a letter from Daddy, I wonder what he says.’

‘Never mind,’ said Donald, ‘better not look at it. Let’s get out.’

‘It doesn’t matter, silly,’ said Felicity, ‘it’s only Daddy!’ She pulled the letter out of the envelope and read it. She stood quite still. Then she put the letter back on the desk and came away.

‘What did it say?’ said Donald.

‘Nothing,’ said Felicity. ‘Let’s go quickly.’ She began to pull him to the door.

Donald looked at her face. Then he went back to the desk, found the letter, and read it.

‘Come, come, come,’ said Felicity. She opened the bedroom door and stepped out on to the landing. Donald followed. They walked with firm silent steps to the top of the stairs and began to descend.

Half-way down the lower flight Felicity stopped in her tracks. Donald paused, and then walked down to join her. Standing watching them from the drawing-room door was Miss Handforth. She looked at the children. They looked at her.

‘Well, well, what a surprise!’ said Miss Handforth, her voice echoing through the house. Miss Handforth was not a friend of the Mor children. ‘This is a new way to pay visits!’

The Close seemed to shake at the sound and shiver into wakefulness. Donald and Felicity stood there paralysed.

‘Come on,’ said Miss Handforth, ‘has the cat got your tongue? What have you two been up to up there, may I ask?’

Donald and Felicity were silent. At that moment the front door opened and Rain Carter came into the hall. All three turned towards her. She wore a white summer dress with an open neck, and for a moment as she entered the sun blazed behind her. She shut the door, and put her hand to her eyes, blinded for a moment by the change of light. She took in the little scene in front of her; and then turned questioningly to Miss Handforth.

Miss Handforth said, ‘These are Mr Mor’s children.’ Her deep voice expressed incredulity and disgust.

Rain turned towards them. They stood, as in a group by Gainsborough, Felicity posed with her hand upon the banister, Donald more sulkily behind her.

‘I am so glad to meet you at last,’ said Rain. ‘I think - Donald - I have at least seen before - but I am so glad to meet you properly. And I haven’t ever met - Felicity. How are you?’

Donald said nothing. He looked straight at her unsmiling. Felicity came forward. She smiled at Rain. ‘We just came over,’ she said, ‘to give you these flowers. They are wild flowers, but we hope you’ll like them.’ She handed her bouquet to Rain.

Rain took them with an exclamation of pleasure and held them to her face. She was a little shorter than Felicity and had to look up at her. ‘They are beautiful ,’ she said. ‘I love these English wild flowers. I really really cannot think of anything that would have pleased me more. How very kind of you to think of this. They are lovely flowers.’ She held them close to her.

Donald came down the stairs and stood beside his sister. He took her arm.

‘You aren’t going already?’ said Rain. ‘Do stay and talk to me. Miss Handforth, I wonder if - some tea? It’s about tea-time anyway, isn’t it? I don’t want to bother you. Or perhaps just some milk and cakes if there are any?’

Miss Handforth said nothing.

‘I’m afraid we have to go at once,’ said Felicity. ‘I’m so sorry. We’re expected at home and we’re late already. We just called to bring the flowers.’

‘How very dear of you,’ said Rain. ‘You have made me glad. Thank you so much. I hope we shall meet again soon.’

‘I hope so too,’ said Felicity. ‘Well, good-bye. Good-bye, Miss Handforth.’ The two children disappeared rapidly out of the front door.

They walked quickly through the front gates of Mr Demoyte s garden and then along the little path that led back again into the fields. Once Felicity was on the path she began to run, and Donald had to run hard to keep pace with her. As soon as they were well clear of the house Felicity turned off the path, ran across a field, and threw herself down in the stubble in the shadow of a hedge. Donald joined her and sat down beside her. They were silent for some time.

‘Don,’ said Felicity at last, ‘you won’t do that climb, will you?’

Donald did not answer for a moment. ‘It hardly matters one way or the other,’ he said, ‘now.’

They sat looking down into the stubble. ‘Tears of blood,’ said Felicity. This was an ancient ritual.

Without a word Donald drew a razor blade from his pocket and handed it to her. Carefully she made a tiny slit be neath each eye. Both the Mor children could weep at will. A moment later mingled tears and blood were coursing down their cheeks.

Chapter Nine

IT was the day of Nan’s departure. Mor viewed the prospect with relief. For some time now their small house had been a scene where washing, drying and ironing of clothes, discovey and renovation of suitcases, unfolding of maps, and discussion of trains and seat reservations and the weather, had gone on without intermission until Mor had been obliged to invent excuses for staying in school. End of term exams were just beginning, and although this meant less teaching it meant more correcting, and it was about this time too that Mor had to settle down to the organization of reports and the solving of various staff problems for next term with which Evvy was patently unable to deal. His house became intolerable to him. It was always too small, though usually it was better in summer than in winter, since open windows could lend extra space to the rooms. But Nan could be relied upon to turn the place topsy-turvy before a holiday, and Felicity was being more than usually tiresome and tearful. Mor’s heart sank each evening as he came through the narrow front door, with its panel of leaded glass, into the small hall-way, filled now with suitcases, tennis rackets, and other paraphernalia. He would have liked to have gone over to Demoyte’s house to get away from it all. But although the Close and its inhabitants were incessantly in his mind, he did not go. A general sense of unrest and uneasiness filled him. It was now less than three weeks to Donald’s college entrance exam, and he was worried about him. He had called on him twice lately to see how he was getting on, but the boy had been very short with him, and Mor had gone away hurt and puzzled.