The Bell (46 page)

‘I hope it won't be too late,' said Michael. ‘Margaret's meeting me at Paddington.' He sighed deeply.

Dora sighed too. She said, ‘You packed my pictures all right?' She had given him three of her sketches of Imber.

‘They're flat on the bottom of my case,' said Michael. ‘I do like them so much. I'll have them framed in London.'

‘They're not worth it,' said Dora, ‘but I'm glad you like them. I can't really paint.'

Michael did not contradict her. They sat silently for a while, looking into the fog and listening for the train. The day was blanketed and still.

‘Don't forget to give the key to Sister Ursula when you go,' said Michael.

‘What will happen to Imber, anyway?' said Dora. ‘Who does it belong to? Funny, I never wondered this before. It seemed as if it just belonged to us.'

‘Well, in fact, it belongs to me,' said Michael.

‘To
you?
' said Dora, turning to him. She was amazed. And in the instant her quick imagination had seen it changed, the garden radiant with flowers, the Long Room decked and carpeted, the house filled and warmed and peopled, made into a home for Michael and Catherine and for their children. It was a painful vision.

‘It's the old home of my family,' said Michael, ‘although we haven't been able to live there for a good many years. What will happen to it? It's going to be leased indefinitely to the Abbey.'

‘To the Abbey?' said Dora. She drew a small sigh of relief. ‘And what will they do with it?'

‘Live in it,' said Michael. ‘They've needed more space for a long time.'

‘So it'll actually be inside the enclosure, the whole thing, the house, the lake, everything?'

‘Yes, I suppose so.'

‘How perfectly dreadful!' said Dora.

Michael laughed. ‘It's a just reversal of roles,' he said. ‘In the old days the Abbey used to be a curiosity in the grounds of the Court. Now the Court will be a curiosity in the grounds of the Abbey.'

Dora shook her head. She could not think how Michael could bear not to live there even if the place fell down about his ears. The distant sound of the train was heard booming through the fog. ‘Oh dear,' she said, ‘here's your train.'

They got up. The train came into the station.

Not many people were travelling, and Michael soon found an empty carriage. He stowed his suitcases and opened the window, leaning out and looking down on Dora. She seemed ready to burst into tears.

‘Come, come,' said Michael, ‘cheer up!'

‘I know I'm silly,' said Dora, ‘but I'll miss you so much. You will write, won't you, and let me know your address?'

‘Of course I will,' said Michael. ‘I'll be in London till January, and then in Norwich till the summer. Anyhow, I'll let you know where I am.' He had taken a temporary job at a Secondary Modern school for the spring and summer terms.

‘I'll write,' said Dora. ‘I may write, mayn't I?'

‘Of course,' said Michael.

‘Do give my love to Catherine,' said Dora. ‘I do hope she'll be all right.'

‘Surely I will,' said Michael.

‘They remained looking at each other, trying to think of something to say. Dora was aware of his hand on the edge of the window. She wanted very much to cover it with her own hand, but did not do so. She wondered if she would dare to kiss him when the train was leaving.

‘I never thanked you properly about Bath,' she said. ‘I couldn't have managed it without you.'

‘Oh, that's all right,' said Michael. ‘I'm so glad it worked out. Give my greetings to Sally!'

‘I will!' said Dora. ‘You know, I quite look forward to it. I've never been in the West Country. I wonder how I shall get on. What does one drink there?'

Michael made a wry face. ‘West Country cider,' he said.

‘Isn't it nice?' said Dora.

‘It's nice,' said Michael, ‘but very strong. I shouldn't take too much of it, if I were you.'

‘I shall telephone Sally to get in a large jug,' said Dora, ‘and tonight we shall be drinking your health in West Country cider!'

The whistle blew, and the train gave a preliminary jolt. Blushing violently, Dora stood on tiptoe, drew Michael's head down gently, and kissed him on the cheek. He looked surprised. Then he kissed her forehead in return. The train began to move, and in a moment he had disappeared, still waving to her, into the fog.

Dora drew out her handkerchief and walked slowly back to the taxi. She shed some tears and a sweet sadness pierced her heart. Anyway, the kiss had gone off all right. She got into the taxi and told the taxi-man to drop her at the entrance gates.

As she walked down the avenue of trees the fog was clearing, and the Court became visible opposite to her, its pillars and copper dome clear-cut and majestic in the sunshine, a light radiant grey against a sky of darker moving clouds, rising above the still misty levels of the lake. Only the windows seemed to Dora a little dark and blank, like the eyes of one who will soon be dead.

When she got to the ferry, the boat was still on the other side and invisible in the fog. She drew upon the line and felt it coming heavily and sluggishly towards her. It emerged into view and came bumping up against the landing-stage. Dora got in and was about to propel herself across. Michael had taught her how to use the single oar. Then a new idea occurred to her. A second oar was always kept for emergencies, upon the landing-stage. Dora picked it up. She fitted the two oars into the rowlocks, and then undid the painter that joined the boat to the two sides of the ferry. No one would be coming across that way now.

She got in and sat down, trying the oars gingerly. She used to know how to row. After a certain amount of splashing she found that she still knew. The oars dipped and the boat moved away slowly over the surface of the water. Delighted, Dora released her breath and sat enjoying the gliding motion and the silence of the misty lake, broken only by the dripping of water from the blades. The mist was becoming golden. Now it began to clear away, and she saw the Court and the high walls of the Abbey toward which she was drifting. Behind the Court the clouds were in perpetual motion, but the sky was clear at the zenith and the sunshine began to warm her. She kicked off her sandals and trailed one foot in the water over the edge of the boat. The depths below affrighted her no longer.

She looked at the Court. She could not help being glad that Michael and Catherine would not live there, and their children and their children's children. Soon all this would be inside the enclosure and no one would see it any more. These green reeds, this glassy water, these quiet reflections of pillar and dome would be gone forever. It was indeed as if, and there was comfort in the thought, when she herself left it Imber would cease to be. But in this moment, and it was its last moment, it belonged to her. She had survived.

She drew in her foot and began to row slowly along the lake. From the tower above her the bell began to ring for Nones. She scarcely heard it. Already for her it rang from another world. Tonight she would be telling the whole story to Sally.

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Philosophy

SARTRE, ROMANTIC RATIONALIST
THE FIRE AND THE SUN
ACOSTOS: TWO PLATONIC DIALOGUES
METAPHYSICS AS A GUIDE TO MORALS
EXISTENTIALISTS AND MYSTICS

 

Fiction

UNDER THE NET
THE FLIGHT FROM THE ENCHANTER
THE SANDCASTLE
THE BELL
SEVERED HEAD
AN UNOFFICIAL ROSE
THE UNICORN
THE ITALIAN GIRL
THE RED AND THE GREEN
THE TIME OF THE ANGELS
THE NICE AND THE GOOD
BRUNO'S DREAM
A FAIRLY HONOURABLE DEFEAT
AN ACCIDENTAL MAN
THE BLACK PRINCE
THE SACRED AND PROFANE LOVE MACHINE
A WORD CHILD
HENRY AND CATO
THE SEA, THE SEA
NUNS AND SOLDIERS
THE PHILOSOPHER'S PUPIL
THE GOOD APPRENTICE
THE BOOK AND THE BROTHERHOOD
THE MESSAGE TO THE PLANET
THE GREEN KNIGHT
JACKSON'S DILEMMA

Plays

A SEVERED HEAD (with J. B. Priestley)
THE ITALIAN GIRL (with James Saunders)
THE THREE ARROWS and
THE SERVANTS AND THE SNOW
THE BLACK PRINCE

 

Poetry

A YEAR OF BIRDS
(Illustrated by Reynolds Stone)