Jackson's Dilemma (22 page)

‘No, no,
no!’

‘But, Marian, you must realise that you have done
nothing wrong - ’

‘How can you say that, I have done
everything
wrong, I am like a — like a spiteful rat - everyone will - oh I don’t know - want to
kill
me, I must be
killed - ’

‘Marian, stop this nonsense! You decided that you did not want to marry - if you had married
then
against your own will and reason
that
would have been wrong, for both of you, Edward does not hate you or blame you -’

‘Edward
hates
me.
Everybody hates me.
There has been a terrible dreadful wound, a huge bleeding scar, I must go. It was wrong of me to come here. I’ll only harm you if I stay. I am mad. Benet may come. I’ll just - tidy myself - and then I’ll - go - I’ll
disappear—’

Sitting on the side of the bed, holding her breasts, she was sobbing, and trying to choke her sobs. Jackson thought,
of course
I will
not
let her disappear. But where can I take her to where she will
really
be safe? She may actually
recover,
perhaps quite soon, or - now I must keep my head.
Shall or shall I not show her that piece of paper?

He said, ‘Tidy yourself, yes, disappear, no! Oh do
stop
! You must
get dressed.
Have you eaten anything here, no? Then we’ll both eat, I’m hungry too. Benet is away at Penn, he’s staying there for several more days, he won’t disturb us.’ This was a wild guess.

He left her alone for a while, closing the bedroom door, locking the front door, and tactfully closing the kitchen door, leaving access to the bathroom. He suddenly felt something ‘coming over’ him, like a dark cloud, of course tiredness, but something more. He started shaking his head like a horse. A loss of identity. He looked at the telephone. He seized it and rang Tuan’s number. As soon as Tuan made a sound he
whispered,
‘She’s OK. Keep quiet,’ and put down the receiver. Then he silenced the telephone. Then he thought,
is that wise?
Then shaking himself again he set about rapidly putting together something like a breakfast, bread, butter, marmalade, milk, coffee, but of course it wasn’t breakfast, it would be, wouldn’t it, more like tea. He put out chocolate biscuits and a currant cake. He listened, then said, ‘Hello.’ She emerged from the bedroom wearing the dark red cotton dress with white collar which she had been wearing at Tuan’s flat. What had she been wearing when he saw her, so few minutes ago? He could only partly remember, he could recall a black petticoat, a brassière showing, dark stockings, the red dress upon the floor. He felt a terrible anguish. What on earth could he do for her now? He smiled, bowed like a waiter indicating a chair. She sat down, staring up at him. She had powdered her face and combed her hair.

‘Breakfast is served! You like coffee?’

‘Yes.’

‘Would you like some bacon? It wouldn’t take a moment.’ He had forgotten that.

‘No, no! Just coffee. I’ve got to be going anyway. I mustn’t stay here.’

‘I shall be going with you.
Please
eat something. Look, I’ll put some butter and marmalade on that bread.’

He stood, dealing with the bread and marmalade. At least she did not object. She sipped coffee.

There was a strange smell in the kitchen, the smell that had been in the bedroom. He breathed it in thoughtfully, a mixture of sweat and perfume.

She said to him, sipping the coffee, ‘How old are you?’ This startled Jackson. He wondered which of his ages he should most tactfully offer. He said, ‘Forty-three.’

People rarely asked him. He thought of a number. He also recalled, as he always did on these occasions, his first meeting with Uncle Tim, when they looked at each other, when Tim asked him, and then in silence looked again.

She drank half of the coffee, but declined the rest of the breakfast. He looked at her and thought how beautiful she was. He was about to say, how beautiful you are.

She said, ‘Thank you for harbouring me. I
will
go, I will have to - I must go away,
right
away, I must
disappear,
I don’t mean suicide. I have just wrecked my life. I shall have to make a plan. I shall go abroad
forever.
You cannot realise how desperate I am.’

‘It may help you to say all this, but none of it is real. People have experienced far more terrible things and recovered from them.’

‘Have
you
experienced such things?’

‘You are not a criminal, you have not done any dreadful deed, just be quiet for a while, go back to Tuan and Rosalind, or stay with Rosalind, no one will blame you, don’t you realise that! I will take you back now, you must
rest -’

‘I
don’t want
to stay with Rosalind, I came to Tuan not Rosalind - all
that
is over anyway!’

Jackson thought, yes, she was ashamed before Rosalind. ‘Never mind Rosalind. You could just stay with Tuan, he would care - ’

‘No, no, he likes Rosalind, I
can’t rest,
I won’t destroy myself, I shall just hide, I shall take another name, I shall go far away to a place where no one will find me -’

‘This is all nonsense. I won’t let you disappear! Can’t you just understand about Benet, I could talk to him, I wouldn’t say where you were — ’

‘I
have said
that I
will not
see Benet -!’

‘I’m sorry, all right then Mildred, or -’

‘I shall leave this country, oh -
you don’t understand what terrible pain is like!’

Jackson thought, I’m getting nowhere with this. Let me try another tack. He said, ‘Listen, Marian, at least answer me some questions truthfully, I mean calmly. You have been speaking of how you have hurt Edward and made him hate you. But Edward does not hate you and you have not really hurt him. I believe that there is
someone else
too whom you think you have thrown away, who you
imagine
hates you - is there not such a person?’

Marian flushed. She said, ‘How do you know these things? There is someone else whom I have damaged and who hates me far more than Edward does - that person is a demon and would kill me. You see, I am doubly destroyed.’

Jackson took the piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to her.

 

 

 

On the same day of Benet’s visit, Edward Lannion had returned to London. He was profoundly upset, made even more so by Benet’s clumsy idiotic insinuations, suggesting that perhaps Edward would take Marian back, was already perhaps hiding her somewhere or then, put off that track, that he, having hurt Marian, might like to take up Rosalind instead! Benet’s attentive sympathetic eyes, his familiar kindly face, now faintly reminiscent of Uncle Tim, his evident desire to
touch
Edward, to comfort him and stroke him, made Edward ready to wail with abhorrence. Of course Benet had been so kind to him. But now - and also the tiresome reference to the bridge, and to Spencer, as if tactfully drawing attention to some misdemeanour - all this was too much. For a while Edward stayed in the billiard room, moving round the table, catching the balls by hand and making them move each other. Why had he gone into the billiard room anyway? It was so reminiscent of the past. The sheer dark heaviness of the table suggested the past, the far past, a place where he had been innocent and free, very very long ago. He remembered his father, his father’s gentle solemnity, before the catastrophe. He pictured his dear mother dying, so young, his father weeping, he and his brother crying. His brother drowning. He thought about Marian. Then he drove in his sleek red car very fast to London, put the car in the garage, then walked about, stopping and staring blindly at things, avoiding certain places, then driven by hunger to a little Italian restaurant which he had not seen before where he ate little, realising it must by now be at least the afternoon. From the terrible moment of Marian’s communication, and indeed before that, yes well before that, Edward had struggled secretly and silently with his great dark demon. He had drowned Randall, failed Marian, perhaps killed Marian, and there was
another hideous fault,
an
old
fault which he could not remedy and which might well finally drive him to suicide. He could see no possible road, even one far far ahead, which could lead him to happiness.
Happiness
! Not to joy, not even to continued sanity. There was only one thing which he might do, one
real
thing, but it was now more and more clear that he would not do it. He paid the bill and walked out into the warmth, among the colourful crowds who jostled him in friendly ways. He passed noisy jolly pubs, their doorways wide open, spilling onto pavements, somewhere, perhaps in some park, birds were singing, the rich sky hung cloudless, there would be no dark, was not that the evening star? He blundered on, feeling that he would fall. He was lost. At last he took a taxi, returning to his house, to solitude and nightmare.

 

 

 

When Jackson had handed Marian the piece of paper he had not known what response to expect to Cantor’s message.
Marian I love you please please come back to me, please marry me.
They had been sitting at the kitchen table opposite to each other. She was determined to go away forever, she had dreadfully hurt Edward, he hated her, she hated him, no, she would not see Tuan, she would not see Rosalind, or Mildred or Benet! It was after this that Jackson had tried to conjure up ‘the other’, at least hoping for some kind of clement change. This did not occur.

Marian read the message, she read it twice as if calmly, then tore it in two and threw it on the floor whence Jackson retrieved it. She said nothing, looking at Jackson with a tense savage coldness, he saw her teeth chattering, he saw them bared.

He said awkwardly, ‘You know his writing.’

‘Of course!’

‘But don’t you believe what he has written?’

‘No, it’s nothing,
nothing—
’

‘You think - well, what - a sort of trap?’

‘He hates me, I hate him, all that is
over.
You don’t know what he’s done, you don’t know what I’ve done, you don’t understand how far far away I am now -’

‘Marian,’ said Jackson, ‘don’t be angry with me. Listen, I have been to see Cantor, I have talked to him -’

‘You went to see him?
How did you find this, he gave it to you -?’

‘Of course he did, where else did I get the message from -?’

‘You have met him, you have seen him, you have talked about me, do you think that pleases me - I
detest
it - do you think I’ll run to him just after that? Everyone is
cruel
to me, everything is
mad, mad, mad
-!’

‘Oh Marian, don’t cry
please—
’

‘Don’t you see that I
hate
myself -’

‘No, no, you mustn’t, you don’t, you must
believe,
you must go where love is, this is a
truthful
message, do have hope, he loves you, I know he does - ’

‘I have destroyed everything around me, everyone despises me, even if they try to be kind they despise me, you despise me, I hate it all -’

‘All right, suppose I drive you to Mildred, or to Elizabeth -’

‘I don’t want to see them,
I hate
them - oh Jackson, help me, help me -’

‘I’ll stay with you, I’ll be with you.’ But what on earth can I do, he thought,
I am so tired.
He wondered if he were actually falling asleep. He moved his chair round the table and put his arm round her shoulder, holding on to her white collar and gripping the fabric of her summer dress. For a moment she yielded, leaning her head down, then stiffly moving away. Tears were coming down her cheeks, she touched them with the back of her hand.

‘I stayed in a hotel then,’ she said, ‘I’ll find somewhere. I can get money from my bank. I’m going to leave the country as quickly as possible. Thank you, thank you, I must go now,
now
— ’

 

‘Wait,’ he said, ‘I’ll go with you, I know a little quiet place, a lodging house, no one comes, I’ll take you there, you could be quiet - let’s go now - ’

He led her, holding her hand, carrying her suitcase, looking anxiously at the house, out of the garden and through the side door by the garage and out into the street. He hurried along, pulling her after him, until he found a taxi.

‘You’re sure no one will find me?’

‘Yes yes. I’ll come tomorrow -’

‘Oh Jackson - in so little time — I have destroyed my life -’

‘All will be well with you, my dear dear girl -’

In the taxi he sat sideways looking at her, touching her, touching her face, kissing her hand.

‘It’s a little secret place, I know it, it’s flats, all separate, I’ll come along tomorrow!’

They got out of the taxi, Jackson paid the fare. Holding her wrist he led her towards the house. He pressed the bell for flat number three.

‘Yes?’

‘It’s me - I’ve got a friend - can I come up?’

‘Yes!’

‘Good - just leave the doors open.’ He said to Marian, ‘It’s just up the stairs, don’t worry.’

Cantor left the upstairs, doors open. Jackson entered first, leading Marian. Then he released her, dropped her suitcase, and stepped back.

Cantor was standing in front of his desk. When he saw Marian he opened his arms. When she saw him she gave a loud cry and would have fallen to the floor had he not caught her in his embrace. She did not struggle.

Jackson stayed a moment or two, then closed the door on the landing and hurried down the stairs. Another job accomplished. Or was it? Would she come running back? Or would she simply run away and get lost again? He felt exhausted. He had had no sleep since - since when? He realised that it was now evening. It was very hot. He couldn’t find a taxi for some time, and had to walk most of the way back to Tara.