«So you suggested that she should deceive her parents?»
«No, no, not like that-«I can't make out what has happened,» said Rachel. «Did you suddenly feel this-urge or whatever it was-and then go and tell her that you found her attractive, and then make a pass at her, or what? What has happened exactly? This must be fairly new?»
«It is new,» I said. «But it's very serious. I didn't foresee it or will it, it happened. And then when it turned out that she felt the same-«Bradley,» said Arnold, «what you are saying describes nothing which could possibly have happened in the real world. All right, you suddenly felt that she was an attractive girl. London's full of attractive girls. And it's nearly midsummer and you are, perhaps, reaching the age when men make asses of themselves. I've known several people who started sowing some rather unsavoury wild oats at sixty, it's not unusual. But given that you felt randy about my daughter, why the hell didn't you keep quiet about it instead of annoying and upsetting her and confusing her-«She's not annoyed or upset-«She was this afternoon,» said Rachel.
«But you said she was upset-«We told her it was a bad joke.»
I thought, My darling, I trust you, I trust you, and I know. I will keep faith with your faith. But at the same time I felt pain and fright. Could I, after what had happened, now doubt it all? She was so very young. And it was indeed, as they said, something very new in the world. When I thought how new I was amazed at the degree of my certainty. But there, above the doubt, was the certainty.
«I can see that you are listening to us at last,» said Arnold. «Bradley, you are a decent rational man and a moral being. You can't seriously propose to settle down and explore this emotional mess with Julian? I call it an emotional mess, but thank God it hasn't yet had time to develop into one. Nor will it do so. I shall stop it.»
«I don't know what we shall do,» I said. «I agree that the whole thing is fantastic. It's almost too good to be true that Julian should love me. It may even not be true. It has surprised me very much indeed. But I am certainly not going now to let the matter drop. I am not going to go quietly away as you suggested earlier, I am not going to stop seeing Julian, I can't. I must find out whether she really loves me or not. Though what follows if she does I don't know at all, perhaps nothing. All this is extremely unusual and may turn out to be very painful, especially to me. I don't want to cause her pain. I don't think I can do her harm. But at this particular point we can't either of us stop. That's all.»
«She can stop and she will,» said Arnold. «Even if I have to lock her in her bedroom.»
«Of course you can stop,» said Rachel. «Try to be honest! And do stop saying 'we.' You can't answer for Julian. You haven't been to bed with her, have you?»
«Oh Christ, Christ,» said Arnold, «of course he hasn't, he's not a criminal.»
«No, I haven't.»
«And you won't.»
«Rachel, I don't know! Please realize that you are talking to a mad person.»
«So you actually admit to being irrational and irresponsible and dangerous!»
«Arnold, please don't get so angry. You are both frightening me and confusing me and that does no good. When I said 'mad' I didn't mean irresponsible-I feel as responsible as if-I'd been given something-I don't know-the bloody Grail-I swear I won't press her or bother her-I'll leave her quite free-she is quite free-«
There was a moment's silence after this speech. I stared at Arnold. He had been sitting very still, speaking quietly but with a spitting staccato emphasis and with that sort of «edge» to the voice which is intended to terrify. His face under his pale hair was flushed bright pink like a girl's. I tried to check my fear with anger, but could not. I said in a small voice, «Your eloquence suggests to me that Julian did after all convince you both that she was in love.»
«She doesn't know what she feels-«
«This isn't the eighteenth century-«Come!» Arnold got up, and motioned with his head to Rachel who rose too. «We've said what we came to say. We'll leave you to-digest it-see there's only one course for you to-adopt-I opened the sitting-room door. I said, «Arnold, please don't be so angry with me. I haven't done anything wrong.»
«Yes, you have,» said Rachel. «You spoke to her about your feelings.»
«All right. I shouldn't have. But to love somebody isn't a sin, there's good in this, we'll find a way to make it-all good-I won't bother her-if you like I won't see her for a week-let her think things over-«It won't do,» said Arnold, more gently. «Any sort of half-measures will only make things worse. You must see that, Bradley. Christ, you don't want a mess any more than we do. You must go away. If you see her you'll just make more drama. Best thing for all is stop, absolutely, now. Do see it. Sorry.»
Arnold went out of the sitting-room and opened the door of the flat.
Rachel passed me and as she did so she shrank from me and her mouth gave a little wince of disgust. She said tonelessly, «I want you to know, Bradley, that Arnold and I are entirely united in this matter.»
«Forgive me, Rachel.»
She went on out of the flat, turning her back on me.
Arnold came back. He said, «There's no need just now to act on the letter I sent you. Could I have it back?»
«I've destroyed it.»
«No.»
«Well. I will not allow any harm to my daughter. Be sure of that. Be-warned.»
He went out, closing the front door softly. I was panting with emotion. I ran to the telephone and dialled the Ealing number. There was a pause and then the high buzz of «number unobtainable.» I dialled several times, with the same result. I felt as if I had been cut off by an axe at the knees. I held my head in a violent grip, trying to compose myself and think. The urgency of the need to see Julian seethed all round me, blotting out my vision. I was being blinded and stung to death by bees. I was suffocating. I ran out into the court and began to walk at random along Charlotte Street, then along Windmill Street, then along Tottenham Court Road. After a while it began to seem probable that if I did not take some violent and decisive action soon I would collapse. I hailed a taxi and told the man to drive to Ealing.
I stood under the copper beech at the corner of the road. I put my hand on the close-grained trunk of the tree and it felt absurdly there, complacent with indifferent reality. It was evening now, twilight time, the evening of that same lengthy fantastic eventful day.
The evening was overcast, the dour thick light turning a little purple, the air warm and motionless. I could smell dust, as if the quiet tedious streets all around me had dissolved into endless dunes of dust. I thought about this morning and how we had seemed to have all the time in the world. And now there seemed to be no more time. I also thought that if only I had had the wit to take that taxi at once I might have arrived here before Arnold and Rachel. What was happening? I crossed the road and began to walk slowly down on the other side.
I stood now upon the opposite pavement and regarded the house and wondered what to do. I considered the idea of hanging around until three o'clock in the morning and then penetrating into the garden and using one of Arnold's ladders to climb up to Julian's window. But I did not want to become a nightmare figure to her, a night intruder, a secret man. The greatness of this morning had been its lucid openness. This morning I had felt like a cave-dweller emerging into the sun. She was the truth of my life. I would not become a sort of burglar or pickpocket in hers. Besides. There were so many unknown things. What was she thinking now?
As I stood there in that thick oppressive urban dusk breathing the breath of fear, smelling the dunes of dust, I became aware of being looked at by a figure standing in the long unlighted landing window of the house I was studying. I could see the figure framed in the window and the pallor of the face regarding me. It was Rachel. We looked at each other in an awful immobility of quietness for about a minute. Then I turned away, like an animal from a human stare, and began to pace the pavement, to and fro, to and fro, waiting. The street lamps came on.
After about five minutes Arnold came out. I recognized his figure though I could not see his face. I began to walk back up the road toward the copper beech and he followed, then walked beside me in silence. A close-by lamp-post was illuminating one side of the tree, making the leaves a transparent glowing winy purple, and separating them out with clear shadows, each from each. We stepped into the rich gathered darkness underneath the tree, trying to see each other's faces.
Arnold said, «I'm sorry I got so excited.»
«O. K.»
«Everything's got much clearer now.»
«Good.»
«I'm sorry I said all those ludicrous things-about lawyers and so on.»
«So 'm I.»
«I hadn't realized how little had happened.»
«Oh.»
«I mean, I hadn't got the time scheme. I somehow gathered from what Julian said this afternoon that this whatever it is had been going on for some time. But now I understand it's only been going on since yesterday evening.»
«A lot has happened since yesterday evening,» I said. «You should understand, you seem to have been fairly busy lately yourself.»
«You must have thought Rachel and I were being ridiculously solemn this afternoon about very little.»
«I see you're playing it differently now,» I said.
«What?»
«Go on.»
«Now Julian has explained everything to us and it's all perfectly clear.»