The Magus, A Revised Version (84 page)

‘
A good deal more convincingly than you have
–
and we
’
ve also been through this conversation before. So come on. Where is she?
’

‘
At this moment? Probably in bed with her real lover.
’

I drew a breath.
‘
Maurice?
’

‘
The man you know as Joe.
’

I laughed, it was too much. She said,
‘
All right. You don
’
t have to believe me.
’

‘
And you
’
ll have to do a damn sight better than this. Or I
’
m going back to my room.
’
She was silent.
‘
I suppose that
’
s why he stands and watches us making love together.
’

‘
You can do that if you
’
re really making love to someone every night. If you know the other man is only being made a fool of.
’

She was far too persistent, it was like trying to sell a pig in a poke twice over to the same customer.

‘
This is getting sick. I
’
ve had enough.
’

I turned to go, but she caught my arm.

‘
Nicholas, please … apart from anything else I don
’
t know where to spend tonight. I can
’
t go to the house in the village.
’

‘
Try the hotel.
’

She swallowed that rebuff, then tried again.
‘
They
’
ll probably be here tomorrow, and if I
’
m going to be accused of anything, I
’
d like you beside me. To back me up. That
’
s all. Honestly.
’

Just for a moment there was a more authentic tone in her voice; and she had finally a little smile, a nice mixture of ruefulness and appeal for protection. I made my voice a shade gentler.

‘
You shouldn
’
t have told me the story of
Three Hearts.
’

‘
Is it so improbable?
’

‘
You know damn well the improbability is in your bending reality to fit it.
’

‘
I don
’
t see what
’
s so unreal in our finding each other … she shook her head, and avoided my eyes.

‘
We spend the night together. Is that the idea?
’

‘
I
’
m just saying that when you discover the truth about Julie, if…
’
but again she shook her head.

‘
Why do we have to wait that long?
’

‘
Because … I know you don
’
t believe me yet.
’

‘
I thought there
’
d be some snag.
’

My tone had been growing more and more sarcastic, but now she looked me in the eyes. Hers had the exaggerated dilation of a dared child.

‘
If that
’
s a challenge, I accept it. If it would make you believe me.
’

‘
The more I know you two, the more incredible you get.
’

‘
Because we both find you rather attractive? And I happen to feel sorry for you? As well as for myself. If that matters.
’

I stared at her, half tempted to put her to the test. But it was so obvious that the real test was for me.

‘
Did
Julie tell you I
’
d written to your mother?
’

‘
Yes.
’

‘
I had an answer a couple of days ago. I
’
m just wondering what she
’
d think if I wrote back and told her what her two daughters are really up to.
’

‘
She wouldn
’
t think anything. Because she doesn
’
t exist.
’

‘
You just happen to have someone in Cerne Abbas who writes letters to you and forwards your mail?
’

‘
I
’
ve never been in Dorset in my life. My real name isn
’
t Holmes. Or June, for that matter.
’

‘
I see. We
’
re back on that one. Rose and Lily?
’

‘
I
’
m usually called Rosie. But yes.
’

‘
Balls.
’

She contemplated me, then looked down.
‘
I can
’
t remember the exact words, but our mythical mother
’
s letter to you went something like this: Dear Mr Urfe, I
’
ve given your letter to Mr Vulliamy, who
’
s head of the primary school here. Then there was something about pen-pals in France and America being old hat. And how her two daughters don
’
t write often enough. Yes?
’

Now it was I who began to fall; as so often before, stable ground had turned in a few seconds to quicksand.

She said,
‘
I
’
m sorry. But there
’
s a thing called a universal postmarker. The letter was written here, an English stamp put on it, then …
‘
she made a little postmarking gesture.
‘
Now will you believe me?
’

I was thinking back desperately: if they opened my outgoing letters, then …

‘
Do you open mail to me as well?
’

‘
I
’
m afraid so.
’

‘
Then you know about… ?
’

‘
About what?
’

‘
My Australian friend.
’

She made a little movement of the shoulders: of course she knew about her. But in some intuitive way I knew that she didn
’
t, that I had her in a trap.

‘
Then tell me.
’

‘
Tell you what?
’

‘
What
’
s happened.
’

‘
You had an affaire with her.
’

‘
And?
’
She made another vague gesture.
‘
You
’
ve read all my mail. So you must know.
’

‘
Of course.
’

‘
Then you know that in fact I did meet her in Athens at half-term?
’

She was caught, she didn
’
t know which way she was being bluffed. She hesitated, then smiled back, but said nothing. I had left her mother
’
s letter lying about on my desk
–
Demetriades or anyone
could have slipped in and read it. But Ann Taylor
’
s letter and its contents I had hidden well away, in a locked suitcase.

‘
We really do know everything, Nicholas.
’

‘
Then prove it. Did I or didn
’
t I meet her in Athens?
’

‘
You know perfectly well you didn
’
t.
’

Before she could move I gave her a slap across the cheeks. It was controlled, not hard, just enough to sting, but it shocked her. She put a slow hand to her cheek.

‘
Why did you do that?
’

Til do it a fucking sight harder if you don
’
t start telling the truth. Is
all my
mail opened?
’

She hesitated, still clasping her cheek; then conceded.

‘
Only … what looks as if it might concern us.
’

‘
That
’
s a pity. You should be more thorough.
’
She said nothing.
‘
If you had opened it, you
’
d have known I did meet that poor bloody girl in Athens.
’

‘
I don
’
t see what
–’

‘
Because of your sister, I asked her to kindly get out of my life.
’
June looked more frightened now, at a loss, not knowing what this was leading to.
‘
A couple of weeks later, she didn
’
t get merely out of my life, but out of her own as well. She killed herself I left a pause.
‘
Now you know the cost of your fun and fireworks at Bourani.
’

She stared, for a moment I thought she had believed me; but then she looked away.

‘
Please don
’
t try to play Maurice
’
s game.
’

I caught her arms and shook her.
‘
I
’
m not playing games, you moronic little fool! She
killed
herself.
’

She began to believe, yet still tried not to.
‘
But … why didn
’
t you tell us?
’

I let go of her arms.
‘
Because I felt bad about it.
’

‘
But people don
’
t just kill themselves because

‘
I think some people take life more seriously than any of you begin to imagine.
’

There was a silence. Then she spoke with a kind of
naïve
timidity.

‘
She … loved you?
’

I hesitated.
‘
I tried to play fair. Perhaps too fair. I
’
d have done it all by letter if you hadn
’
t called that weekend
off
. Then it seemed mean not to tell her to her face that…
‘
I shrugged.

‘
You told her about Julie?
’

I detected a true alarm in her voice.

‘
You
’
re safe. Ashes can
’
t blab.
’

‘
I didn
’
t mean that.
’
She glanced down.
‘
She … took it badly?
’

‘
Not outwardly. If I
’
d realized … I was just trying to be honest. Set her free from waiting for me.
’

There was another silence, then she said in a low voice,
‘
If it
’
s true, I can
’
t think how you could have … let us go on like this.
’

‘
Because I was foolishly in love with your sister.
’

‘
But Maurice warned you.
’

‘
When did he ever tell me the truth?
’