The Good Apprentice (34 page)
Read The Good Apprentice Online
Authors: Iris Murdoch
Edward was so absorbed in these thoughts which moved, like the clouds, slowly, shedding dim yet vivid light, that he nearly missed the railway. He had in fact already passed it when he recalled having seen some long white gates. He returned some twenty paces and saw the gates, on both sides of the road, sunk off their hinges and grown over with brambles, but patently the gates of the level crossing. And there beyond them, just as he had pictured it, was the railway, the ghost railway line, a grassy road, quite distinct from the surrounding fields, leading away into two flat faintly misty distances. Firmly treading the brambles down Edward climbed over and sunk his boots into the wet grass. The grass in fact was not very long, had perhaps been scythed in the previous year, and made easy walking. Away from the road the railway was sunk a little between low banks on which great batches of palely luminous primroses were in flower. The sun appeared for a moment between the scurrying clouds, showing the details of the drooping grasses loaded with silver water, and the velvet texture of the primrose flowers. Edward felt as if his heart would burst out of his breast with a great inapprehensible anguish. He thought, how can I imagine things about ‘recovering’ or ‘being cured’ when what I simply am is
mad,
I have lost my
senses,
I walk along a mad thing, boiling with emotions and pain. Will it always be like this, all of my life, when I am alone, and when I see anything beautiful or innocent or good? And it’s not just pain it’s awful remorse, resentment, destructive hate. The sun was clouded. A little grassy path led up from the floor of the track to the top of the low bank, and Edward mounted it. Oh if only he could find
now
that the sea was in view, and run to it shouting. At the top of the bank however he could see nothing but more fields divided by little lines of small tormented trees, and a very slight rise, which could not be called a hill, with a neat copse upon it. Perhaps the sea was beyond that. He looked about, but although the work of man was everywhere to be seen in the form of meticulous cultivation, there was no other sign of humanity, no persons, not even a house or a barn to give scale and comfort to the flat faintly misty land. He walked on more slowly, kicking the longer grass aside.
mad,
I have lost my
senses,
I walk along a mad thing, boiling with emotions and pain. Will it always be like this, all of my life, when I am alone, and when I see anything beautiful or innocent or good? And it’s not just pain it’s awful remorse, resentment, destructive hate. The sun was clouded. A little grassy path led up from the floor of the track to the top of the low bank, and Edward mounted it. Oh if only he could find
now
that the sea was in view, and run to it shouting. At the top of the bank however he could see nothing but more fields divided by little lines of small tormented trees, and a very slight rise, which could not be called a hill, with a neat copse upon it. Perhaps the sea was beyond that. He looked about, but although the work of man was everywhere to be seen in the form of meticulous cultivation, there was no other sign of humanity, no persons, not even a house or a barn to give scale and comfort to the flat faintly misty land. He walked on more slowly, kicking the longer grass aside.
It was then that he saw the girl. She seemed to appear suddenly as if out of a fold of the air, standing some four hundred yards off, motionless, her face partly turned away and clearly oblivious of his presence. Edward too stood still. He had at once recognised her as the one he had seen before, in the fen behind the house, how long a time ago, and whom he had, he now realised, completely forgotten about in the interim. There she was again, now in a moment of sunshine, with the vividness of a dream figure, with her short brown hair and her blue mac. Very cautiously Edward sat down in the wet grass with his hands about his knees and continued to observe her. He could not help feeling that it was very significant that now, especially now, after he had forgotten her, he should see her again. He wondered if, by some trick of the landscape, she were actually looking at the sea. She turned a little more away from him, moving one hand up to her breast, then to her neck, in what seemed to him a sad, even frightened, gesture; then she simply vanished. It took Edward a moment to realise that she had probably just descended to the level of the railway, perhaps at that point even lower, as from there she had, shortly before, as an apparition, risen up.
Edward got up hastily and plunged down the bank again to the shorter grass of the track, his mackintosh and trousers now soaking wet. He felt a breath of desolation which had seemed to be wafted to him from the girl, he felt frightened. He wanted to run after her but dared not. He deliberately waited, breathing deeply, while the anguish which he had felt earlier spread its electrical discomfort through his whole body. He walked on slowly, then faster, then hurrying, but saw no one. About ten minutes later he saw the cottage. The cutting along which he was walking had gradually become shallower and, as he followed it round a curve, the building suddenly appeared, just beyond some clumps of hawthorn and elder, raised up a little just beside the track. At first it seemed to be deserted, even ruined. A large deformed yew tree, half overgrown with some creeper, completely obscured one side of it, and various spriggy plants were growing on the roof. Then as he came up the slight slope towards it he saw that a path had been cut through the longer grass, and in a moment he felt something hard, stone or concrete, beneath his feet. He realised that the little stone building was a station house, and that he was now upon the platform of Smilden Halt. He advanced cautiously toward the house, seeing now curtains in the windows, a cleared space before the door, a little fence and a gate with a board upon it saying
Railway Cottage.
Edward hesitated, breathing in the atmosphere of the ghost station. He knew that of course he had to go to the cottage and knock on the door. He felt dread and the hope that there would be no one there. He unlatched the gate and knocked on the door.
Railway Cottage.
Edward hesitated, breathing in the atmosphere of the ghost station. He knew that of course he had to go to the cottage and knock on the door. He felt dread and the hope that there would be no one there. He unlatched the gate and knocked on the door.
It was instantly opened by a tall rather fierce-looking woman with a strong gleaming face who peered at Edward through thick glasses which enlarged her eyes. ‘Yes?’
‘I’m so sorry to trouble you,’ said Edward. ‘I want to get to the sea. Could you tell me the best way to go?’
Before the tall woman could answer there was a cry, and from behind her, appearing indeed underneath her arm which was outstretched to hold the door, a smaller woman appeared suddenly, crouched like a monkey, a woman, a girl. She ducked out of the doorway, skipping forward and making Edward step hastily back. The girl was Sarah Plowmain.
‘Edward!’
‘Sarah!’
‘Elspeth, this is Edward, Edward Baltram!’
‘Oh, really,’ said the tall woman in a cold repressive tone.
‘Edward, how on earth did you know I was here?’
‘I didn’t,’ said Edward.
‘Surely you’re not over
there,
are you, but you
must
be, and we didn’t know — ’
there,
are you, but you
must
be, and we didn’t know — ’
‘He’d better come inside,’ said the taller woman.
‘No, he can’t, he mustn’t — ’
‘You’ve been shouting his name out loudly enough.’
‘Edward, this is my ma, Elspeth Macran. She uses her maiden name. You know, she’s a writer, I expect you’ve seen her stuff, Women’s Lib journalism, she writes under the name of Elspeth Macran about feminism and so on, she’s written a novel — ’
‘Do stop shouting, Sarah, and conveying senseless information. He had better come in.
That
is better, that he should come in, since he’s here and we can’t make him vanish.’
That
is better, that he should come in, since he’s here and we can’t make him vanish.’
‘All right, I’ll go in first and — ’ Sarah ran in again past her mother.
Elspeth Macran stepped back, and after a moment beckoned Edward inside.
It was darkish within and smelt of wood smoke and cigarette smoke. Edward began to see a big open fireplace where a few logs were burning, bookshelves with shabby books, shiny china ornaments, dried grasses in bigjars, very worn rugs, and a table with a red cloth on it set for three. From the state of the plates it looked as if he had interrupted a high tea.
‘I’m so sorry to disturb you,’ said Edward.
‘Don’t be silly;’ said Elspeth Macran, ‘don’t talk about absurdities. Sit down, Sarah, stop frigging about.’
‘Where shall I sit — I mean — ’
‘Anywhere.’
Sarah sat down at the table and actually picked up a piece of bread and butter, then put it down again.
Elspeth Macran stood with her back to the fireplace staring at Edward with her gleaming enlarged eyes. She was wearing a blue check shirt and a shabby tweed jacket. Corduroy trousers tucked into long socks gave a knickerbocker effect. When her face was not expressing strong emotion (which it often was) she could look imposing, even handsome.
‘So you are Edward Baltram.’
‘Are you really staying at Seegard?’ said Sarah. She was now perched sideways on her chair, her short skirt hitched up revealing skinny bare legs and small rather dirty bare feet. Her small mobile face was bright with excitement, her mouth ajar with an involuntary grin of emotion.
‘Yes.’
‘But why, how?’
‘Why not, they invited me, they wrote — and well — how is it you’re here, I had no idea — ’
‘The explanation is simple,’ said Elspeth Macran. ‘I knew your mother, Chloe Warriston.’
‘This was Jesse’s love nest with Chloe,’ said Sarah. ‘You were probably conceived here, in the bedroom!’
‘Jesse owned this house — ?’
‘No,’ said Elspeth Macran, ‘it was abandoned when the railway went, Jesse just used it. Then when he dropped Chloe she lived here for a short time with me.’
‘With you — ?’
‘I was a close friend of Chloe’s. She was very unhappy and I came to her. Then she married that scoundrel Harry Cuno.’
‘He’s not a scoundrel.’
‘She was a very unlucky girl. I liked this place and when the railway put it up for sale I bought it.’
‘She bought it to spite Jesse,’ said Sarah, ‘she hates him.’
‘So you know my father,’ said Edward.
‘I have never met him,’ said Elspeth Macran, ‘but I know a good deal about him, and I am surprised that you can bear to be in his house.’
‘He is my father,’ said Edward, ‘and I love him.’
‘That’s got to be nonsense,’ said Elspeth Macran.
‘My ma hates men,’ said Sarah, ‘it’s nothing personal.’
‘You never saw him before, and he is now a babbling idiot.’
‘A woman needs a fish like a man needs a bicycle,’ said Sarah.
‘He isn’t,’ said Edward.
‘I hear he’s dying anyway from lack of medical attention.’
‘Edward, do sit now,’ said Sarah. ‘He may sit down, mayn’t he? Or do you think he’d better go? Sit
there
.’ She pointed to a chair at the table.
there
.’ She pointed to a chair at the table.
Edward sat down at the table. He said to Sarah, ‘You never told me — ’
‘About the cottage — I did, only you didn’t pay attention.’
‘Edward doesn’t seem to be very good at paying attention,’ said Sarah’s mother.
‘I remember now, only you didn’t say it was so near — ’
‘Why should I? I never imagined you’d ever visit Seegard. Anyway, this has always been a sort of secret place, Elspeth liked it that way.’
‘Why did they invite you?’ said Elspeth, ‘who wrote to you?’
‘Mother May did — I mean Mrs Baltram — ’
‘“Mother May”!’
‘That’s what we call her — ’
‘You mean you and those half-crazy girls.’
‘They are my sisters, and — ’
‘I want to see them,’ said Sarah, ‘I want to see them
all
, I’m wild with curiosity, can’t you invite me to tea?’
all
, I’m wild with curiosity, can’t you invite me to tea?’
‘I forbid you to set foot in that accursed house,’ said Elspeth. ‘The place is dripping with evil and madness. Surely
you
must feel that, or are you already depraved?’
you
must feel that, or are you already depraved?’
‘It’s
not
evil,’ said Edward. ‘It’s a strange place. You don’t know it and you can’t understand. There’s something good and innocent there.’
not
evil,’ said Edward. ‘It’s a strange place. You don’t know it and you can’t understand. There’s something good and innocent there.’
‘What did the letter say?’
‘Mrs Baltram’s letter? I wish you’d stop asking me questions.’
‘What did the letter say?’
‘She asked me to come. She said she’d read about my mishap in the paper — ’
‘Mishap. Did she use that word? That’s priceless! You must have been out of your wits to accept such an invitation. Quite apart from the fact that Jesse treated your mother like dirt. Why do you think they asked you?’
‘They were sorry for me. All right, why do
you
think they asked me?’
you
think they asked me?’
Elspeth Macran smiled, revealing very white false teeth. ‘I don’t know, but not for your good you may be sure. You don’t imagine it was the old fool’s idea? His mind has gone.’
‘Don’t be so aggressive, ma,’ said Sarah. ‘You’ll reduce poor Edward to tears.’
‘No, she won’t,’ said Edward. ‘I think I’ll go now. I only called to ask the way to the sea.’
‘The way to the sea — !’
‘I suppose if I just go on following the railway — ’
Elspeth and Sarah were staring at each other. Sarah jumped up. ‘Shall I get her?’
‘Yes,’ said Elspeth. ‘She’s been listening to the conversation. She may as well look at him. It may help her just to have seen the — ’
Sarah darted across and opened a door. The girl whom Edward had now twice seen entered the room. Edward rose to his feet.
‘This is Brenda Wilsden,’ said Elspeth, ‘Mark’s sister.’
‘Always known as Brownie,’ said Sarah. ‘Brownie, this is Edward Baltram.’
Mark’s sister (Edward could at once see the resemblance) said nothing: She stared intently at Edward out of a big pale grave face, which might have been a boy’s face, just as Mark’s could have been a girl’s. Her long head and large brown eyes and the thick straight brown hair which hung almost to her shoulders emphasised the ‘Egyptian’ look which she shared with her brother. She was less slim, less beautiful, however. She was wearing a shapeless dress and her hands were at her breast in a gesture like that of the earlier sighting. As she stared her face seemed to strain forward as if seen through a transparent muslin mask. She made the room motionless, standing there like a painted statue.
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