A Severed Head (13 page)

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Authors: Iris Murdoch

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When you took me to Hereford Square,

said Georgie,

you took me through the looking glass. There

s no going back now. I

ve had enough of having things around that I am afraid to think of.


Well, I

m not going to introduce you to Antonia, and that

s that.

 


Antonia, this is Georgie Hands. Georgie, my wife,

I found these incredible words passing my lips. I was able to speak without stammering or choking. No one fainted.

The interview took place in Palmer

s drawing-room. The purple velvet curtains were drawn now upon the evening and the dark wallpaper covered with furry black roses, lit by a dancing firelight, surrounded us like a wicked forest. Dark-shaded lamps upon distant tables cast a narrow light upon Palmer

s collection of crystals, which emitted here and there a mysterious but significant ray. Antonia stood on the thick black rug by the fire. In front of her on a low mosaic table was the tray of drinks and three glasses. Warned by telephone, she was ready.

Antonia, who had taken more than usual pains with her appearance, was wearing a dark green dress of light Italian wool which I had bought her in Rome once. She wore no jewellery and had her great golden hair done in a plain bun. She stood there, plump, tall, one hip thrown out and one hand upon it turned back at the wrist, an elegant, anxious, tired, older woman, and at that moment, and in the particular quality of her nervousness, to me infinitely familiar and infinitely dear.

Georgie in her shabby brown skirt, blue pullover, and black stockings looked like a child. She had, with a defiant deliberation, made no change in her appearance. She wore no make-up. Her hair was plaited and twisted carelessly, a little absurdly even, to the top of her head. She was very pale, and the pallor emphasized the limpid clarity of her complexion. She bowed a stiff little bow to Antonia, who fluttered, not deciding whether to extend her hand. Both women were breathing quickly.

Antonia said,

Will you have a drink?

Her voice was deep with nervousness.

Do sit down, please.

She began to pour out some sherry.


No, no thank you,

said Georgie.

Don

t be silly,

I said.

No one sat down. Antonia stopped pouring and looked at Georgie with a sad appealing conscious look. Her big tawny eyes were pained. She was very very anxious to please. She said in a tense little voice,

Don

t be angry with me.

Georgie shook her head and made a gesture with her hands which seemed to set Antonia

s remark aside as being unmentionably inappropriate.

I said,

Well, I

ll have a drink, Antonia.

My terror of a

scene

was overwhelmed by the dreadful tender pain of seeing them together.

She gave me the glass and poured out two more, placing one for Georgie at the far end of the little table which extended between them. I took my place in the middle facing the fire.


May I call you Georgie?

said Antonia.

I feel as if I know you already.


Certainly,

said Georgie.

if you want to.


And will you call me Antonia?


I don

t know,

said Georgie.

Sorry. I don

t think I can. But it

s of no importance.


It

s of importance to me,

said Antonia.


Oh, break it up!

I said. I could not bear Antonia

s tone of tender insistence.


Martin, please,

said Antonia. Still looking at Georgie, she put her hand on my sleeve and left it there. I could feel her trembling. I was penetrated with pity for her.


Look,

said Georgie. The muscles of her nose contracted.

I wanted to see you, since you wanted to see me. I felt it was right, and a matter of taking seriously what one has done. But I doubt if we can really talk to each other.


Don

t dislike me, Georgie,

said Antonia. She bent her appealing look upon Georgie, and I could feel her intimate insistent will bent upon the girl. It was almost palpable, like a warm electric fan.


Why ever should I?

said Georgie.

You are much more likely to dislike me.

I quietly removed my arm from Antonia

s pressure.


Ah, you mustn

t feel guilty!

said Antonia.


You misunderstand me,

said Georgie.

I was just replying to your remark. I wasn

t implying anything else. I don

t feel guilt. I realize that I may have harmed you. But that is quite another thing.

I could feel Georgie

s stiffness. She seemed with it almost a marionette. She was stiff as a piece of wood with her anxiety to be accurate, to be truthful, to be precise, and to express no emotion whatsoever. In the face of Antonia

s dewy radiance she was utterly closed and cold.


Don

t be so harsh with me, my child,

said Antonia. She was desperate to establish a relationship. She wanted here, to meet her special need, to soothe and calm her, the warm human contact.


Sorry,

said Georgie.

I wish you well. Perhaps you wish me well. It

s just that it

s difficult to talk.


I do wish you well, I do!

said Antonia, clutching on to this.

I wish you both so well. I hope you and Martin will be very very happy. Do believe me, this will always be near my heart.


Leave me out of it, Antonia,

I said. I could not bear that she should seem ridiculous to Georgie. A protective love for Antonia overwhelmed me, a desire to carry her away and hide her, to shield her from the cold young stare of a more exacting sincerity.


Whatever can you mean, leave you out?

said Antonia, laughing a little and fixing her hand again on my sleeve.

How can you, between us, be left out, my dear? Isn

t he absurd!

She turned with a gay feminine appeal to Georgie again.


Martin means there

s nothing to discuss and some subjects are better not touched on,

said Georgie. She was rigid with strain. She kept a wide-eyed level look on Antonia and did not glance in my direction. She was conscious of Antonia

s hand.


But, Georgie, there is
everything
to discuss!

said Antonia.


Perhaps we

d better go now,

I said.

You

ve clapped eyes on each other, which was what you wanted to do.

I put my glass down, releasing myself again from the tender clutch.


Oh, don

t go!

said Antonia with a wail.

I haven

t had anything like enough of simply
looking
at Georgie. You must forgive me, child. You mustn

t be embarrassed by the way I go on, must she, Martin? I mean well, I really do! Please sit down and drink your sherry.

No one sat down and Georgie did not pick up her drink. She turned towards me, wanting another prompting to go. If I was by then afraid that she might pity Antonia her look should have reassured me. She was far too anxious about herself, about being accurate, about preserving, as only the young are ruthless enough at such time to do, the dignity of exact statement.

I think I ought to go,

she said.

Will you come with me, Martin, or stay here? I honestly don

t mind which you do. It was kind of you to ask me,

she said to Antonia.

I am glad to have met you. I think it is a good thing for both of us.


My dear child, I am so glad too,

said Antonia.

You must learn to be patient with me. You will learn.


I doubt if we shall meet again,

said Georgie.

But, as I say, I am glad to have seen you. It makes things more honest. I did not enjoy deceiving you. I wish you well. And now I must really go.


No, no,

cried Antonia,

and don

t speak of our not meeting again, why, that would be cruel! When you are married to Martin we shall often meet. I love Martin still, you know, I do. In some ways I love him better than ever.


That is nothing to do with me, Mrs Lynch-Gibbon,

said Georgie,

and as for my being married to Martin, it seems to me very unlikely that this will ever happen. In any case it is no one

s business but our own. I hope I haven

t been rude. If I have, I apologize. I must go. Thank you very much for asking me.

She bowed again her stiff puppet bow and began to walk away.

While Antonia raised her cry of protest the door opened to admit Palmer. He raised his hands in a gesture of surprised delight, and then spread them wide, advancing on the hesitating Georgie like a father greeting a long-lost child.


Why, I nearly missed her!

he cried gaily.

A patient delayed me. They are so demanding! Forgive me for being so informal, Georgie Hands. I believe we have a lot of friends in common.


She knows your sister,

I said. I came up behind Georgie, ready to pilot her out. I had had more than enough.


I saw you at a party once,

said Georgie,

but you wouldn

t remember me.

She held out her hand.


Then I am the poorer for that!

said Palmer.

Please don

t go. Do stay and have another drink. We can at least start to get acquainted.

He retained Georgie

s hand, which she left woodenly in his grasp while he stood back, extending his arm and looking at her with admiration.


We must be off,

I said.


Well, Martin,

said Palmer, still holding Georgie and turning to me,

you are a lucky man! No, I must insist on my rights. Georgie, I forbid you to talk of going yet!

A sound behind us made us turn. Antonia was holding her handkerchief before her face. She took another deep breath and uttered a long sob.

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