The Black Prince (Penguin Classics) (54 page)

On the third evening Rachel turned up. Of course whenever the door bell rang I rushed out sick with hope and terror. Twice it was Christian (whom I did not let in), once Rigby asking for Francis. (Francis went out and they talked for some time in the court.) The fourth time it was Rachel. I saw her through the glass and opened the door.

Seeing Rachel there in the Hat was like a bad trip in a time machine. There was a memory – odour like a smell of decay. I felt distressed, physically repelled, frightened. Her wide round pale face was terribly familiar, but with the ambiguous veiled familiarity of a dream. It was as if my mother had visited me in her cerements.

She came in tossing her head with a surge of excitement, a perhaps feigned air of confidence, almost of elation. She strode by me, not looking at me, her hands deep in the pockets of her tweed coat which had been cobwebbed – over by the light rain. She was purposeful and handsome and I flinched out of her way. She took off her woollen hat and her coat and shook them lightly and hung them up in the hall. We sat down in the sitting – room in the cold brown early evening light.

‘Where’s Julian?’

Rachel smoothed her skirt down neatly about her knees. ‘Bradley, I wanted to tell you how sorry I was about Priscilla.’

‛Where’s Julian?’

‘Don’t you know?’

‘I know she’ll come back. I don’t know where she is.’

‘Poor old Bradley,’ said Rachel. She gave a nervous ejaculatory laugh like a cough.

‘Where is she?’

‘She’s on holiday. I don’t know where she is just now, I really don’t. Here’s the letter you sent her. I haven’t read it.’

I took the letter. The return of a passionate letter unread desolates far regions of the imagination. If somewhere she had read my words the world was changed. Now all blew back upon me like dead leaves.

‘Oh Rachel, where is she?’

‘Honestly I don’t know, I’m not in touch. Bradley, do stop it. Think of your dignity or something. You look terrible, you look a hundred. You might shave at least. This thing is all in your mind.’

‘You didn’t think so when Julian said she loved me.’

‘Julian is a child. This latest business had far more to do with me and Arnold than it had to do with you. You ought to know a bit about human nature, you’re supposed to be a writer. Of course it was “serious” in its way, but what people do doesn’t mean just one thing. Julian adores us, only she likes to stage little revolts from time to time. I daresay we are rather overwhelming as parents, and she is an only child. So she pushes us with one hand and pulls us with the other. She wants to assure herself that she’s free, at the same time she wants our attention, she wants the relationship of being scolded. This isn’t the first time she’s used somebody else to upset us with. A year ago she thought she was madly in love with one of her teachers, well he wasn’t as old as you, but he was married with four children, and she made it into a sort of little “demo” against us. We knew how to take it. It ended happily. You’re just the next victim.’

‘Rachel,’ I said, ‘you are talking about someone else. You are not talking about Julian, about my Julian.’

‘Your Julian is a fiction. This is what I’m telling you, dear Bradley. I’m not saying she didn’t care for you, but a young girl’s emotions are chaos.’

‘And you are talking to another person. You obviously have no conception of what you’re dealing with. I live in a different world, I am in love, and – ’

‘Do you think there is some magic in those words which you utter so solemnly?’

‘Yes, I do. All this is happening on a different plane – ’

‘This is a form of insanity, Bradley. Only the insane think that there are planes which are quite separate from other planes. It’s all a muddle, Bradley, it’s
all
a muddle. God knows, I’m saying this to you in kindness.’

‘Love is a sort of certainty, perhaps the only sort.’

‘It’s just a state of mind – ’

‘It’s a true state of mind.’

‘Oh Bradley, do stop. You’ve had a terrible time lately, no wonder your head’s in a whirl. I am so awfully sorry about Priscilla.’

‘Priscilla. Yes.’

‘You mustn’t blame yourself too much.’

‘No – ’

‘Where did Francis find her? Where was she lying when he found her?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You mean you didn’t ask?’

‘No. I suppose she was in bed.’

‘I would have wanted to know – all the details – I think – just to picture it – Did you see her dead?’

‘No.’

‘Didn’t you have to identify her?’

‘No.’

‘Someone must have done.’

‘Roger did.’

‘Odd about identifying dead people, recognizing them. I hope I don’t ever have to – ’

‘He’s keeping her prisoner somewhere, I know he is.’

‘Really, Bradley, you seem to be living in some sort of literary dream. Everything is so much duller and more mixed – up than you imagine, even the awful things are.’

‘He locked her in her room before.’

‘Of course he didn’t. The girl was romancing.’

‘Do you really not know where she is?’

‘Really.’

‘Why hasn’t she written to me?’

‘She’s no good at writing letters, never has been. Anyway, give her time. She will write. Perhaps it’s just a rather difficult letter to compose!’

‘Rachel, you don’t know what’s inside me, you don’t know what it’s like to be me, to be where I am. You see it’s a matter of absolute certainty, of knowing your own mind and somebody else’s with absolute certainty. It’s something completely steady and old, as if it’s always been, ever since the world began. That’s why what you say is simply nonsense, it doesn’t make any sense to me, it’s a sort of gabbling. She understands, she spoke this language with me at once. We love each other.’

‘Bradley dear, do try to come back to reality – ’

‘This is reality. Oh God, supposing she were dead – ’

‘Oh don’t be silly. You make me sick.’

‘Rachel, she isn’t dead, is she?’

‘No, of course not! And do try to take a look at yourself. You’re simply absurd, you’re just talking melodrama, and you’re talking it to
me
, of all people! A couple of weeks ago you were kissing me passionately and lying beside me in bed. Now you expect me to believe that you’ve developed a life – long passion for my daughter in the space of four days. You expect
me
to believe that,
and
to sympathize with you, it seems! You are rather out of touch! One would think that some sort of dignity or tact or ordinary human gentleness would check this outpouring. Well, don’t look like that. You do
remember
being in bed with me, don’t you?’

In a way, the truth was that I did not. I could attach no precise events to the idea of Rachel. Here memory was simply a cold cloud to be shuddered at. She was a familiar person and a familiar presence, but the notion that I had ever
done
anything in relation to her was utterly shadowy, so much had the advent of Julian drained the rest of my life of significant content, separating history from prehistory. I wanted to explain this.

‘Yes, I do – of course – remember – but it’s as if – since Julian – everything has been – sort of amputated and – the past has quite gone – it didn’t mean anything anyway – it was just – I’m sorry this sounds rather unkind, but being in love one simply has to tell the truth all the time – I know you must feel that there was a sort of – betrayal – you must resent it – ’

‘
Resent
it? Good heavens no. I just feel sorry for you. And it’s all a pity and a sort of waste and rather pathetic really. Well, a sad thing, a disappointment perhaps, a disillusionment. It seems odd to me now that I ever felt that you were a sort of strong wise man or that you could help me. I was touched when you talked about eternal friendship. It seemed to mean something at the time. Do you remember talking about eternal friendship?’

‘No.’

‘Can you really not remember? You are peculiar. I wonder if you’re having some sort of breakdown ? Can you really not recall our liaison at all?’

‘There was no liaison.’

‘Oh come come. I agree it was brief and stupid and I suppose rather improbable. No wonder Julian could hardly believe it.’

‘
You told Julian
?’

‘Yes. Hadn’t you thought that I might? Oh but of course you’d forgotten all about it!’

‘You told – ?’

‘And I’m afraid I told Arnold almost straightaway. You’re not the only one who has states of mind. With my husband at any rate, I’m not very discreet. It’s a risk one runs with married people.’

‘When did you tell her – when – ?’

‘Oh, not till later. When Arnold came down to your love – nest he brought Julian a letter from me. And in that letter I told her.’

‘Oh Christ – she must have read that letter – after – ’

‘Arnold thought it might serve as an argument. He is very thorough. He thought at least she might come running back to cross – examine me.’

‘What did you tell her?’

‘And when she did get back, I must say – ’

‘
What did you tell her?’

‘Simply what happened. That you appeared to be in love with me, that you started kissing me passionately, that we went to bed together and it wasn’t a great success but you swore eternal devotion and so on, and then Arnold came and you ran out without your socks on and bought Julian that pair of boots – ’

‘Oh God – you told her – all that – ’

‘Well, why not? It did happen, didn’t it? You don’t deny it, do you? It was relevant, wasn’t it? It was part of you. It would have been wrong to conceal it.’

‘Oh God – ’

‘No wonder you tried to forget it all. But, Bradley, one is responsible for one’s actions, and one’s past does belong to one. You can’t blot it out by entering a dream world and decreeing that life began yesterday. You can’t make yourself into a new person overnight, however much in love you feel you are. That sort of love is an
illusion,
all that “certainty” you were talking about is an
illusion
. It’s like being under the influence of drugs.’

‘No, no, no.’

‘Anyway, it’s over now and no harm done. You needn’t worry too much or feel remorse or anything, she had already decided it was a mistake. She has some sense. Really, you mustn’t take a young girl’s feelings so literally. You haven’t lost a pearl of great price, my dear Bradley, and you’ll appreciate this sooner than you imagine. You’ll soon be heaving a sigh of relief too. Julian is a very ordinary little girl. She’s immature, not all there yet, like an embryo. Of course there was a lo of emotion swilling around, but it didn’t really signify too much who was at the receiving end of it. It’s a very volatile time of life. There’s nothing steady or permanent or deep in any of these great crazes. She’s been “madly in love” any number of times in the last two or three years. My dear man, did you really imagine you would be the sticking point of a young girl’s passion? How could that be? A girl like Julian will have to love a hundred men before she finds the right one. I was just the same. Oh do wake up, Bradley. Look at yourself in a mirror. Come back to earth.’

‘And she came straight to you?’

‘I suppose so. She arrived pretty soon after Arnold – ’

‘And what did she say?’

‘Do stop looking like King Lear – ’

‘
What did she say?
’

‘What could she say? What could anyone say? She was crying like a maniac anyway and – ’

‘Oh Christ, oh Christ.’

‘She got me to repeat it all and give all the details and swear it was true and then she believed me.’

‘But what did she say? Can’t you remember anything she actually
said
?’

‘She said, “If only it had been longer ago.” I suppose she had a point there.’

‘She didn’t understand. It wasn’t at all like what you said. When you said that, it wasn’t true. When you used those words they conveyed something which simply wasn’t true. You implied – ’

‘I’m sorry! I don’t know what words you would expect me to have used! Those ones seemed to me to be pretty appropriate and accurate.’

‘She can’t have understood – ’

‘I think she did understand, Bradley. I’m sorry, but I think she did.’

‘You said she was crying.’

‘Oh madly, like a child who was going to be hanged. But she always did enjoy crying.’

‘How could you have told her, how could you – But she must have known it wasn’t like that, it wasn’t like that – ’

‘Well, I think it
was
like that!’

‘How
could
you have told her?’

‘It was Arnold’s idea. But I didn’t honestly feel at that point that I had to be discreet any more. I thought a little shock would bring Julian to her senses – ’

‘Why have you come here today? Did Arnold send you?’

‘No, not particularly. I felt you ought to be told about Julian.’

‘But you haven’t told me!’

‘About it being – well, you must have assumed it anyway – all over.’

‘Don’t shout. And I came, you won’t care of course, but out of a sort of kindness. I wo dered if I could help you.’

‘I must see Julian, I must see her, I must find her, I must explain – ’

‘I wanted to tidy things up. Now that everything has come out right in the end. Ever since that day when Arnold telephoned you and you came over, I feel you’ve been somehow in the dark, not understanding anything, under all sorts of misapprehensions. I daresay my attempts to help you didn’t really help at all. And I did want to help you. I know you have strong emotional needs, I know you’re a very lonely person, maybe I shouldn’t have meddled. But I felt I
could
meddle simply because my own position was so strong. That I was all right was the assumption I stupidly thought you shared. I mean, I thought you understood how united I am with Arnold and how happy we really are. Perhaps I should have made this clearer. It’s not that I misled you, but I must somehow have let you mislead yourself, I’m sorry. When people need you, you have to be careful with them, and I just wasn’t careful enough. You see, this is one of the unfair things that married couples sometimes do, I’m afraid. They give sympathy to people, or they seek for sympathy, and then they run straight home and tell each other all about it. I’ve never deceived Arnold for a moment and he’s never deceived me. Perhaps outsiders don’t understand, perhaps they can’t. A good marriage is very strong and flexible, it’s tough. You spoke about betrayal and resentment. I’m afraid it’s rather you who have been betrayed and who may have to bear the burden of resentment. I blame myself, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed you’d understand. Married people do sometimes victimize unmarried people in this way, one is just so lucky. Arnold and I are very close, we’ve even been laughing at it all, at you, at Christian, at Julian. And, thank God, it’s all turned out reasonably well in the end. I know you feel rather sore at the moment but you’ll soon start feeling better too. It was a voyage into the absurd. It may even do you good. So do cheer up, dear Bradley. It doesn’t do to take the world too solemnly.’