Authors: Iris Murdoch

A Fairly Honourable Defeat (46 page)

BOOK: A Fairly Honourable Defeat

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‘And the naked boys bathing in the Tiber.’

‘Ah, the naked boys bathing in the Tiber!’

This could go on forever, thought Simon. He was determined not to suggest dinner. Let the cassoulet burn.

‘Of course the opera’s not so good as Paris,’ said Julius.

‘That’s true. But one could always take a plane to Milan.’

‘I see they’re doing Mozart at Sadlers Wells. Is that company any good this summer?’

‘Not too bad. They did a very presentable
Cosi.
I forget what’s on at the moment.’

‘
Die Entführung aus dem Serail.
Eh, Simon?’

‘What?’ said Simon. He had been standing morosely at the window, looking out.

‘Die Entführung aus dem Serail.’

‘I can’t stand Mozart,’ said Simon.

‘Really, Axel, you mustn’t let him say things like that. It makes me feel quite faint!’

‘You enjoy some Mozart, Simon. You were humming
Voi che sapete
only yesterday.’

‘V oi che sapete!’
cried Julius.
‘Tiens!’

‘I only like what I can hum,’ said Simon.

‘That’s not a bad principle,’ said Julius. ‘At least it’s an honest one. Humming is not to be despised. It is a starting point after all.’

‘I doubt if Simon will ever get beyond it however,’ said Axel. ‘I’ve given up his musical education.’

‘What a pity. It seems so out of character for Simon not to like music.’

‘I agree with you.’

‘He’s such a feminine person. All the little dainty touches in this room are obviously Simon’s work. The cunning way those cushions are put, the graceful looping back of the curtains, the particular arrangement of the flowers, indeed the presence of the flowers. Am I not right? Simon provides the feminine touch. So he ought to like music. Most women are musical.’

‘Do you think so?’ said Axel. ‘In my experience men are far more musical than women. In fact, I don’t know any really musical women.’

‘You don’t know any women,’ said Simon.

‘One can’t help feeling,’ Julius went on, ‘that it’s awfully significant, who is musical and who isn’t. Now Morgan, for instance, positively detests music …’

Simon looked surreptitiously at his watch. Ten minutes later they were discussing somebody or something called Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, Simon went quietly downstairs.

He stood in the kitchen for a while drinking sherry. Let them talk. He hoped they’d go on for another hour. Only the smell from the brown earthenware pot was becoming almost unbearable. Simon savagely resisted the temptation to lift the lid and spoon out a few beans. He wanted to suffer. He could now hear from the drawing room that Julius and Axel had got on to Wagner.

‘Wagner was, of course, homosexual,’ Julius was saying as Simon glided back into the room. Simon refilled his own glass and sat down by the window. Even this information could not make him interested in Wagner. Now they were off again on the boring old
Ring.

‘But here I am prattling on,’ said Julius at last, ‘and I haven’t given Axel his present. What am I thinking of!’ He leaned over and began scrabbling with his fingers at the knot on the big brown paper package. ‘I never could undo knots!’

‘How kind of you to bring me one!’ said Axel. ‘Look, don’t worry, I’ll get some scissors.’ He got up and left the room.

‘Simon,’ said Julius in a low voice. ‘Come here.’

Simon automatically got up and approached him.

‘Listen, Simon,
don’t worry.
It will be all right. Do you understand? ’

Simon looked down into Julius’s eager smiling face. Then he shook his head and turned away. As he turned Julius reached up and pinched his bottom. Axel’s foot was heard on the landing.

Simon stood looking out of the window, his face scarlet.

‘Here’s the scissors,’ said Axel behind him.

‘I wonder if you can guess what it is?’

‘I can’t imagine.’

‘Simon, do come and look at Axel’s present.’

Simon turned round, trying to conceal his emotion. He felt shame and fury and a kind of horrid excitement.

Julius had the paper off and the box open. Something or other was concealed by tissue paper.

‘You take it out, Axel.’

Puzzled, Axel began pulling away the tissue paper. A pair of furry ears were revealed. A moment later Axel had lifted out an immense pink teddy bear.

‘Isn’t he lovely?’ cried Julius. He smiled, giggled, laughed. Axel’s face was certainly worth looking at.

‘Good God!’ said Simon.

‘You must absolutely
love
him,’ said Julius, ‘both of you, or he’ll be unhappy. I hope he won’t end by making anybody jealous! ’ He nearly choked with laughter.

Axel was having difficulty in removing an expression of horror, disgust and incredulity from his face. He achieved a blank frozen look. He put the teddy bear down on the floor. ‘Thank you, Julius. It was so clever of you to remember my birthday—’ He leaned forward and began folding up the tissue paper. Over his stooped head Julius made a gleeful sign to Simon, putting his forefinger and thumb together.

‘I think we should have dinner,’ said Simon desperately.

‘Dinner?’
cried Julius. ‘But I dined
hours
ago. I thought this was an after-dinner visit. Do you mean to say you two haven’t eaten?’

‘We were waiting for you,’ said Simon. ‘I understood from Axel that you’d invited yourself to dinner.’

‘No, no. I’m sure I said after dinner. I did think it a little odd when you offered me a martini, but I assumed it was just a tribute to what you took to be the barbarous habits of the USA!’

‘Anyway, it was nice of you to come,’ said Axel. He was obviously still suffering from shock.

‘You
do
like your present, don’t you?’

‘Certainly I do. Most original.’

‘I felt sure he’d be happy here. He hasn’t told me his name but I’m sure he’ll soon whisper it shyly to Axel. He has such a modest confiding expression, don’t you think? Don’t forget to give him lots of love. He’s rather fat and lacking in confidence. “A bear, however hard he tries, Grows tubby without exercise.” You see how well up I am in English literature. Dear me, look at the time, it’s well after ten, I really must be going, I’m a fanatical early bedder. And you two poor dears must be starving. Goodnight, Axel. Goodnight, Simon love. I so
very
much enjoyed our last meeting. No, don’t see me down the stairs. I can find my way. Good night, good night.’

Julius departed and the front door closed. Simon, who had gone after him as far as the top of the stairs, returned to the drawing room. Axel got up and kicked the teddy bear across the room.

‘What’s that about your last meeting?’

‘He wasn’t talking to me. He just meant both of us—’

‘He didn’t. He was talking to you. You didn’t tell me you’d seen Julius. When did you see him?’

‘Well, I didn’t really see him—he rang up—’

‘You did see him. When?’

‘Well, only for a moment. He came into the office. It was only—’

‘What did he want?’

‘He wanted—He wanted to discuss what to give you for a birthday present.’

‘Birthday present? Do you mean to say you advised Julius to give me a large pink teddy bear?’

‘No, no, of course not. That was Julius’s idea. It was just a joke.’

‘I see, and you encouraged him. You had a good laugh together at my expense. Was that what he was signalling to you about?’

‘He wasn’t signalling to me.’

‘Stop telling lies. And you were whispering together when I was out of the room.’

‘Honestly, Axel—’

‘And you were blushing furiously when I came back. Do you think I’m deaf and blind?’

‘Truly, there was nothing—’

‘Have you been to his flat?’

‘No.’

‘Look at me. Have you ever been to Julius’s flat?’

‘No, no, never—’

‘I can see you’re lying.’

‘Axel, I swear—’

Axel turned and left the room. Simon ran after him into the bedroom. Axel was putting on his jacket.

‘Please, Axel,
please
—’

‘Get out of my way. I’m going out.’

‘But our dinner, the cassoulet—’

‘Damn and blast the cassoulet.’

‘Axel, please don’t go, I shall be wretched—’

‘And you can get that blasted bear out of the house. I don’t want to see it again.’

‘It wasn’t my idea—’

‘Don’t touch me. And don’t come near me later on tonight either. I don’t want to see you or talk to you. You can sleep in the spare room from now on.’

‘Axel!’

Axel disappeared down the stairs and into the street. The front door slammed violently after him.

Simon went down slowly. He opened the door, then closed it again. He went into the kitchen. The cassoulet was burning. With tears streaming down his face he turned the oven off.

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘I DO WISH you hadn’t told them that,’ said Rupert.

‘That I was leaving London?’

‘Yes. It wasn’t necessary. It’s much better to stick to the truth as far as possible.’

‘I just had to, Rupert. I had to clear the decks. I don’t want to
bother
with other people. And—with things as they are—I felt I simply couldn’t face Peter. The poor boy can’t help making demands. And I wanted, honestly, to give you all my attention, to be able to
think.
Was that wrong?’

‘I’m very sorry we’ve had to mislead Hilda—’

‘Well, we’re already misleading Hilda, aren’t we? And once I’d told Peter I was going away I had to tell Hilda the same story. Come, Rupert. You wouldn’t like to feel
now
, would you, that Peter or Hilda was likely to come knocking on the door?’

‘Suppose Hilda sees you somewhere?’

‘She won’t, Rupert. Don’t
worry
so. Hilda never comes down the Fulham Road, except to come here. It’s not her territory. You know she always goes by Earls Court.’

‘You’d better avoid the Earls Court Road.’

‘I will. The only nuisance is now I can’t answer the telephone and it might be you.’

‘They won’t telephone you.’

‘No, but someone might, and it could get round. I want to lie absolutely doggo for the present.’

‘Oh dear, it’s all rather—You can always ring me at the office.’

‘I know, that’s a blessing. You didn’t mind my ringing today? I felt I just had to see you.’

‘Oh Morgan, Morgan. I wonder if we’re being wise. It has upset me so much that you told that lie to Hilda.’

‘Rupert, you are being silly. We
can’t
tell Hilda about the other thing, now can we? We’ve agreed to that. And this little falsehood is very unimportant.’

‘Have you told Tallis you’ll be away?’

‘Peter will have told him. There. Doesn’t it make you feel more secure to know that we can be really private together?’

‘It makes it all seem more clandestine.’

‘It is clandestine.’

‘And Julius?’

‘I sent Julius a postcard. No one will call.’

Rupert sat down on Morgan’s sofa. He felt puzzled and troubled and anxious but also profoundly
interested.
He felt too an increasing tenderness and concern about Morgan. The girl seemed to be in a very strange frame of mind. In the last few days he had received at the office quite a stream of letters from her, all of which he read several times and meticulously destroyed. Some of the letters were reasonably calm, full of reassurances and worries about
his
feelings and
his
welfare. Others were the most frantic love letters he had ever received in his life. They upset and frightened Rupert considerably. Morgan seemed to be in a rather schizophrenic state about him. He was amazed too and indeed impressed by the firm way in which she had insisted on seeing him. He thought that if he had been in her situation he would have
fled.
He felt, when she asked him to come, bound to come. A refusal might produce any degree of frenzy. And also he wanted to come.

‘There’s something very
odd
about all this,’ said Rupert. Morgan had taken a chair and pulled it up close to him. They regarded each other.

Morgan looked at him in a moment of silence. Then she said, ‘You’re behaving
beautifully.
’

BOOK: A Fairly Honourable Defeat

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