And Tuan, lying so closely bound beside her was thinking, whatever sort of girl I have married, I have married the right one, that I absolutely love, and who loves me and can understand my tears, and of course the pains will go on and in time may be different but will not go - and oh my dear dear parents - And more and more I shall devote myself to holy things, my Maimonides, my Spinoza, my Scholem - hmmm, I wonder if Rosalind will inherit Penndean, or will Benet give it to Marian or to Jackson or the Quakers?
It was indeed late when Edward and Anna got back to Hatting. They had not spoken to each other upon the short drive, but at one point Edward’s left hand sought Anna’s right. Then there was the quiet entry through the front door of the silent house, and the tip-toe mounting of the soft-carpeted stairs and along the corridor to their bedroom. Montague and Millie slept downstairs. Bran slept, at his own wish, at the farther end of the house. Reaching their bedroom they dropped their light coats upon the floor and sat upon the huge bed embracing each other. After that, sitting cross-legged, they discoursed, as Anna observed, in slow tones, like Indian gods. Beneath their soft loving voices their thoughts ran to and fro like mice. Anna thrust Edward away a little, gazing at him as if with a fresh amazement. They talked at first about Jackson, about his situation, how did Benet get him back, or did he come, and so on, and then about Benet, was he happy, was he frightened? And how utterly happy Rosalind looked, fainting with happiness, and how handsome Tuan was but probably penniless, something must be done, and how serious Mildred looked when she was talking and listening to Jackson about India and no doubt Jackson had an Indian streak himself. Anna, stroking her hand gently down Edward’s pale hawkish face, thought how noble and how tragic he looked and how difficult of access even now, he could look so far away. He is counting up the problems. He had talked a little to her about Randall, she had waited anxiously and silently for that. Of course she had known, as others had, about Randall, but without details. What Edward now had to say to her was little more than what she had known before, and then perhaps forever nothing, maybe it was better so. Edward talked to Bran now more than she did. How strange, she thought, I believed that I would have to go through life deceiving my son. Will there be new deceptions? Surely not she prayed. All those photos and letters, even a letter from the doctor, she had burnt some of them but not all - she had left them for Bran to discover. And then Bran threw the stone through the window, and did not that begin everything. Oh now let them all be happiness - happiness and ponies - but also Edward’s school - they would have to see - how much I wished I could believe in God! Mistress of Hatting, yes - yes! My love for Edward increases, it burns, I love him with all my heart, I would fight for him like a tiger. But I shall have as the years go by to be silent, to be discreet, even before him, even before Bran. Oh Lewen, Lewen, from the grave, you must forgive us - I know that you will.
As they undressed and lay down, turning out the light and seeking each other in the dark, Edward’s thoughts, less orderly than those of his wife, wandered about. He thought of course about Randall, perhaps she was thinking about Randall too. Now she is asleep. I can hear the waves as they were - and again when I went the second time. I shall not go there again ever. I have not told her about that, I have told no one about that, as if I were to drown myself at last - but now I have her - thank heavens I came to them, oh thank God, tears, tears - and now I am back as it were at the start when I had her in my arms and she lied to me and said she was already pregnant with Lewen’s child, and I understood all the lies and all about her and about everything and I had to give it all up - and I felt terrible grief but also I felt noble and how I must do what was right for her and for Lewen - oh Lewen, where are you now, wise and good Lewen, you must pardon us for Bran’s sake too - Oh Bran, may he love me, may he not ever hate me. He will grow to be a man - oh what then? - but now for their sake and for my own - How lovely it was in the garden at Penn after dinner when we walked arm-in-arm and saw the little fountain and heard it so softly in the night and sighed so deeply and kissed each other and were alone - how’s Bran now, he must be asleep - I must sleep too - it is nearly morning - oh God have mercy upon us.
Meanwhile, at the Sea Kings, Mildred was sitting upon Owen’s bed, while Owen, wearing only pants and a shirt, was sitting beside the dressing table, pouring more whisky into his glass. His sturdy nose was red, his pale blue eyes were watery, his cupid lips were pouting, his fine untidy hair, sweeping across his brow, was chaotically visible in the mirror behind him. Still filled with the evening’s exaltations and feeling that the night would never end they had of course been arguing. How extremely handsome he is, Mildred was thinking.
Returning to an earlier topic, Owen was saying, ‘You were talking to Jackson, you were chatting away to him, your mouth was opening and closing - ’
‘Now look here,’ said Mildred, ‘I’m sure I said nothing, or almost nothing - He poured it all into my ears, he was talking about remorse and forgiveness and-he has such beautiful eyes and - ’
‘Confound the blighter,’ said Owen, ‘I suspect he can make himself invisible, he is something out of Kafka. I had to forgive him for vanishing. You are rather beautiful tonight. I think I said that before. I suspect if you pulled back the curtains you would see the dawn.’
‘I am sure it is already with us,’ said Mildred, shaking out her skirt. For ordinary everyday life she wore longish brown skirts, for rare special evenings she wore an old familiar very long dark blue real silk dress, with a lapis-lazuli brooch holding a glimpse of white lace. Now for Owen alone she had undone her long dark brown hair, taking out the tortoiseshell combs one by one and letting her hair fall down on either side of her pale thin face. She thought, as usual, of the Lady of Shalott. She thought I really must go off to bed, I can’t go on sitting here looking at this dear big animal!
Owen, picking up her thought, said, ‘Don’t go, have some more whisky.’
‘I’ve had some more whisky. And you should stop. You won’t be able to drive.’
‘Of course I will. As for that fellow, he is bewitching you. As for you, you play the mouse while filled with passion, and you talk too. I wish he would bewitch me. The gods of India will scoop you up in the end.’
Mildred stood up, then stooped to pick up her combs which had fallen to the floor. Her thick long glossy brown hair fell down past her shoulders to her waist. She began to gather it together and toss it behind her.
‘Well, goodnight - Do stop drinking.’
‘Wait, wait, pale maiden. Let me see if I can get up. Yes, I can. Let me blunder across the space between us.’ Only a little taller, he kissed her, upon her closed eyelids, then on her mouth.
‘Oh my darling, do go to bed.’
‘You love me.’
‘I love you. Goodnight, dear beast. If you can fall onto the bed, I can turn off the light.’
‘No, no, first I go to the loo, then I get into the bed, then I turn out the light, I promise you.’
Mildred padded away, softly closing the door and gliding quietly down the corridor. She entered her bedroom, turned on all the lights, and began to undress. She undid the old brooch, extracted the lace, and pulled her long dress over her head and dropped it to the floor and stepped out of it, then removed her petticoat, shoes, stockings, knickers and vest. Then she put on an old long-faded cotton nightdress, white but covered by very pale pink flowers. The curtains were closed. She went to the window and cautiously drew the curtains a little apart. Yes, it was certainly dawn! The sudden sight, in mist, of nearby woodland and far hills, startled her, and she hastily closed the curtains. She thought, how strange, Owen and I are together, like quite different furry animals, well at least we are both furry. How long, how very long, we have known each other. Oh how I love him, I love him so much.
Pulling the sheet and blankets back she sat on the bed. She was suddenly trying to remember what Jackson had said. Jackson. And what had she said, had she said anything? It was already fading, of course she was so tired,
she would think it out tomorrow. Only it is tomorrow. She put her hand on her heart. Was it really true at last, that she might be a woman priest, and hold the Chalice in her hands? How sleepy she felt now and how happy. Lucas would ordain her. They would live among the poor. And the Indian gods would come to her too, indeed they were already with her, the beautiful powerful ones whom she knew so well, whose feet she kissed. Krishna dances and the cobra stretches his hood and the little boy shall be among the Greek gods too. Oh all pure and loving ones be with me and forgive me for my sins, and I shall hold the Chalice which is the Grail. She slipped down, kneeling beside the bed, her hands clasped, her eyes filling with tears, and she found that words were coming to her, holy words, all mixed up, repeated again and again, oh Christ, my lord and my god, God is love, let me be worthy, dominus et deus.
Owen staggered out of the bathroom, swinging the door, and made his way to bed. He gazed at the bed, frowning, then sat down heavily upon it. He had turned the light off in the bathroom but the light was still on upon the dressing table. He staggered across and put it out, now finding himself in complete darkness. He moved cautiously toward the bed and fell upon it, as suggested by Mildred. More turning and fumbling found him a light switch beside the bed. He edged the blankets out from under him and struggled with the top sheet, humping himself up and pulling it. He managed to get his legs between the sheets and blankets and wriggled himself down inside. One of the pillows fell upon the floor. Reaching down unsuccessfully to find it he somehow put out the bedside light. He squirmed back, discovering another pillow in the dark, and rolled himself at last into the centre of the bed where he could put his head down. He felt a bit ashamed of being quite so drunk in front of Mildred. Well, why bother. Would she be off one day, perhaps soon, with her gods or rotten Lucas? Tuan had been snaffled by Rosalind. Jackson had wrapped himself in a cloak of mystery, was it worth trying to unwrap him. How strange that he had had him in his house and shown him things he had shown to no one else. Jackson had been in his kitchen inventing eggs and things - how exactly did he escape? Owen could not remember. He simply vanished. I shall flounder back, thought Owen, I’ll get hold of him again. How could I be so taken by that weirdo, that snake in the reeds? Benet does not deserve him, I’ll get hold of him, I’ll hold him down and teach him to paint - Christ - so he’s got into the scene as well - Christ, I must paint, I must try to be worthy of being a painter, I must invent, I must create, I must kneel, I must start as if from the beginning. Owen adjusted his head and then went quietly to sleep. He dreamt that he was a slug crawling slowly along the ground, and Piero and Titian and Velázquez and Carpaccio and Turner were standing round him and looking down at him with faintly puzzled frowns, and he was shouting up at them, but his voice was so miserably tiny, he was sure they could not hear him, and when he tried to wave his horns at them he suddenly realised that slugs do not have horns. Not even that, he thought in his dream.
THIRTEEN
Usually now Jackson did not allow Benet into the kitchen except, and that very briefly, as a spectator. On this occasion he allowed Benet to assist him a little before the ‘wedding’ feast, but Benet was not to rise from the table, and Jackson, though pressed by some of the guests, was the only person to move about, bringing and removing the items. When the stampede into the garden occurred Jackson was not seen, and it was assumed, rightly, that Jackson, smilingly, rejecting help, such as had been proffered by less well-trained visitors, had disappeared to deal personally with the washing up. Benet, after seeing off all the departing guests, the young lovers being already in bed in the ‘old part’, listened to the still continuous sound of crockery in the kitchen, and of course did not interrupt it. Later there would be silence, when Jackson retired to copious ground floor quarters beyond, while Benet went to his big usual first-floor bedroom with the view of the garden.
However, though he undressed, he did not go to sleep, but sat upon his undisturbed bed in his pyjamas with socks and slippers. His thoughts continually returned to Jackson and the meeting on the bridge. This surprising evening continued with their walking all the way through the night from the river to Tara. Benet was all the time in terror of Jackson suddenly disappearing and never being seen again, he was also very afraid of annoying Jackson. Jackson however was relaxed as if it were just a stroll through London after a pleasant evening. Benet’s suggestion of food, not repeated, was not picked up. In any case Benet was all the time absorbed in Jackson’s presence and also his conversation. The presence alone flustered Benet, who felt that he must inform Jackson of what was going on in his absence, for instance that Edward had married Anna, and Tuan had married Rosalind. Or did perhaps Jackson already know - perhaps indeed more than Benet - of these happenings? There was also, now seeming far in the past, the news of Marian, that she was alive, also married, and in Australia. Benet also recalled, though with no intention of revealing it, his visit to Owen, who had entered so profoundly into his sorrow, suggesting even that by now Jackson had killed himself with grief! Benet had then summoned up his dream, that Uncle Tim was looking at him, and then looking down at the floor, where there was a long black shadow. These horrors, were they to be divulged also? Afterwards Benet did not know for sure what he had said on that night - he had certainly rambled on with his confessions. But what had Jackson said to him? He could scarcely remember anything except for the very last bit, which had caused Benet considerable anguish. They were now very close to Tara. What would happen? Benet thought — the worst. They stopped at Tara, at the bottom of the steps. Who would speak first? Benet said hastily, ‘Listen, please, do come in - let’s have a drink — I mean - I am asking you to forgive me - will you please come back again to stay, and be with me - as a friend you know - please, Jackson?’ Jackson had stood, looking at Benet with, as Benet thought, a rather dreamy look. He said, ‘I’m sorry, I must go. As for what you say, I think you should consider it. I shall come back here, if I may, between twelve and one, in a week, or let us say about two weeks, and see how we both feel.’ After this he turned and walked away.
Benet waited for two weeks. Jackson returned after two weeks and a day. Benet had waited in anguish, distracted if he did not come, if he never came - and also wondering what on earth he was to say to him. What he decided on, and what he said, when Jackson appeared, was uttered at once, ‘Listen, I want you to stay with me, to be with me now as a friend, not as a servant. Of course that’s so now, isn’t it? I want that you should live with me permanently - please. Of course you’ll be perfectly free - ’
These were Benet’s first words, standing opposite Jackson in the drawing room. Benet trembled.
Jackson, smiling faintly, looked at him, then said, ‘Such an arrangement, if attempted, must of course be between equals.’
Benet said, ‘I am sorry, of course I take that for granted.’
‘And I cannot guarantee that I will stay here or indeed anywhere permanently.’
‘Well, of course. I just want you to be here as my friend — ’ Jackson looked pensively away, then said, ‘Well, all right, let us give it a try.’
‘Thank you! Then what about a drink to celebrate? Here is a bottle and two glasses - ’
‘I have noticed them. A glass of water please, then I shall go. I shall be back in three days.’
‘Let me drive you over in the car?’
‘No, thank you.’
‘So now you will live in the house - ’
‘If you don’t mind I would rather stay in the Lodge.’
When Jackson left, Benet felt a sudden outburst of joy. He put his hand to his heart and sat down in the drawing room on a chair near to the door. Then he sat there for some time, beginning to wonder whether these ‘arrangements’ might not in the end break his heart.