"Yes. Well, it wasn"t her fault so much. He took against me. She went along with him. I suppose she had to."
"She was frightened."
"Well, it was a bad scene. He stopped her from talking to me. And she always felt she had to tell him lies, little lies just so as to make life easier. I hated that."
"You mustn"t blame her." That was important.
"I suppose he wasn"t a bad chap. But he couldn"t succeed at anything and that was depressing and maybe made him a bit spiteful, and he took it out on us. She couldn"t do a thing. Well, I do exaggerate. There were good times or goodish times, only the bad ones were socrucial." Again the hesitation. Perhaps the tone of someone else"s voice? Whose?
"I understand."
"You never knew when it was going to start again. You had to be careful what you said."
The bruising and breaking of that child"s pride must have been something appalling, unspeakable. I recalled Hartley"s picture of the white-faced silent boy. Poor Hartley! She was the helpless witness of it all.
"Your mother must have suffered very much, for you and with you."
He gave me one of his quick suspicious frowning stares, but did not pursue the point. On closer inspection he seemed less handsome, or perhaps just more dirty and untidy. He had the pale complexion of a redhead, but his long unkempt hair was greasy and in need of a wash. His face was thin and a little wolfish, the cheeks almost sunken. The eyes had a bright cold blue-grey glint (they were a little spotted and mottled like one of my stones) but always narrowed. Perhaps he was short-sighted. He had a small pretty mouth, the lips scarcely disfigured, and a firm straight little nose, such as a girl might have envied. He was decently shaved, his beard showing in bright points of reddish gold, but the unusually dark stubble growing inaccessibly in the scar looked like a tiny lopsided moustache. He was obviously selfconscious about the scar and kept touching it. His hands were very dirty and the nails bitten.
"And then there was this business about me." I did not speak portentously, but I wanted to keep him on the subject.
"Oh well, yes, it came up now and then. But I don"t want you to get the idea"
"I expect you know that I loved your mother very much when we were young. I haven"t seen her since then, till we suddenly met here"
"She must have changed a bit!"
"I still love her. But we never had a love affair."
"That"s nothing to me. Sorry, that"s not the phrase I want, I must be getting drunk. I mean, don"t tell me things like that, I"m notI"m not interested. I believe you that you"re not my father, that"s finished. All the same, I can"t quite understand about your being here. Do you see them, or what?"
"Oh, occasionally."
"If you don"t mind, I"d rather you didn"t tell them"
"About you? No, all right. As I say, I"m still very attached to your mother, very concerned about her. I"d like to help her. I don"t think she"s had much of a life."
"Well, a life is a life."
"What does that mean?"
"One never knows. I daresay most lives are rotten. It"s only when one"s young one expects otherwise. She"s a bit of an imaginer, a fantasist, I suppose most women are. I must go now. Thanks for the grub."
"Oh I"m not going to let you go yet!" I said, laughing. "I want to hear much more about you. You said your college closed down. But what would you like to do if you could choose?"
"I used to think I"d like to work somehow with animals, I like animals."
"You don"t want to go back to electricity?"
"Oh, that was just to get away from home, I got a grant and cleared out. No, I think if I could choose now I"d like to be an actor."
Here was a stroke of luck. I could have shouted with joy. "An actor actor? Why then I can help you."
He said, quickly flushing and with an aggressive precision, "I did not come here for that. I did not come for your help or to cadge or anything. I just came to ask. It wasn"t easy. You"re a celebrity. I thought about it for a long time. I hoped I"d solve it the other way, by finding the adoption people, but that didn"t work out. I don"t want your help or to push my way into your life. I wouldn"t want that even if you were my dad."
He got up with an air of departure and I rose too. I wanted to throw my arms around him. "All right. But don"t go yet. Wouldn"t you like to have a swim?"
"A swim? Ohyes."
"Well, repose for a while, we can swim later, then have some tea"
"I"d like to swim now."
We walked out onto the gra.s.s, ignoring Gilbert who rose respectfully as we pa.s.sed through the kitchen, and then climbed the rocks towards the sea and came out on top of the little cliff. The tide had come in further and the water was now little more than ten feet below us. It was calmer than it had been in the morning and the semi-transparent water was a rich bottle-green in the bright sunlight.
"Do you swim here? It looks marvellous. And one can dive. I hate not diving in."
It was not a moment for dreary warnings. I was not going to admit to t.i.tus any difficulties, any fear of the sea. "Yes, this is the best place."
t.i.tus was in a frenzy to get into the water. "I haven"t any swimming things."
"Oh, that doesn"t matter, no one can see us, I never wear anything."
t.i.tus had already torn off the Leeds University tee shirt, revealing a lot of curly, red-golden hair. He was hopping, dragging off his trousers. Wanting suddenly to laugh with pleasure I began to undress with equal haste, but was still unb.u.t.toning my shirt when the splash of his perfect dive blotted the glittering rock at my feet. In a moment I followed him, gasped at the coldness of the water, and seconds later began to feel warm and wildly elated.
My man Opian had come out bearing towels. He seemed to retire discreetly, but then I could see him peeping over a nearby rock, watching t.i.tus perform. The boy, showing off of course, swam like a dolphin, graceful, playful, a white swift flashing curving form, giving glimpses of sudden hands and heels, active shoulders, pale b.u.t.tocks, and a wet exuberant laughing face framed in clinging seaweed hair. His sea-darkened hair certainly changed his appearance, became dark and straight, adhering to his neck and shoulders, plastering his face, making him look like a girl. Aware of the effect, he charmingly tossed his head and drew the heavy sopping locks back out of his eyes and off his brow. He had the effortless crawl which I have never mastered, and in his marine joy kept diving vertically under, vanishing and reappearing somewhere else with a triumphant yell. Equal mad delight possessed me, and the sea was joyful and the taste of the salt water was the taste of hope and joy. I kept laughing, gurgling water, spouting, whirling. Meeting my sea-dervish companion I shouted, "Now "Now aren"t you glad you came to me?" aren"t you glad you came to me?"
"Yes, yes, yes!"
Of course he had no difficulty climbing up the little steep cliff. After all, had I not first seen him like a fly upon that tower? I had a slight difficulty myself and a bad moment, but concealed it from him. It was rather too early to start losing face and seeming old. I wanted him to accept me as a comrade. After that, in the shade of a rock, he slept. After that we had a substantial tea. And after that he agreed to stay the night, just the night and leave early the next day. I had meanwhile confiscated and hidden his two plastic bags in case he should suddenly take it into his head to slip away. I looked into the bags, there was precious little in them: shaving things, underwear, a decent striped shirt, a tie, shoes, a much creased and folded cotton jacket. Some expensive cuff links in a velvet box. The love poems of Dante, in Italian and English, in a de luxe edition with risque risque engravings. The last two items made me think a bit. Of course Gilbert, now fully aware of our visitor"s ident.i.ty, was in a scarcely controllable state of excitement and curiosity. "What are you going to engravings. The last two items made me think a bit. Of course Gilbert, now fully aware of our visitor"s ident.i.ty, was in a scarcely controllable state of excitement and curiosity. "What are you going to do do with him?" "Wait and see." "I know what I"d like to do!" with him?" "Wait and see." "I know what I"d like to do!"
Tor G.o.d"s sake just keep out of our way." "All right, I know my place!"
At my suggestion t.i.tus had rinsed his hair in fresh water. Dried and combed it became fluffy, a thick ma.s.s of spiralling red-brown tendrils, and much improved his appearance. In the evening he put on the cleanish shirt, but not the cuff links. Gilbert surrept.i.tiously washed the Leeds University tee shirt. We dined, t.i.tus and I, by candlelight. He said suddenly, "It"s so romantic!" We both laughed wildly. t.i.tus now looked curiously at Gilbert and Gilbert"s too impeccable performance, but asked no questions. I vaguely volunteered, "He"s an old actor, down on his luck" and that seemed to account for him sufficiently for the present.
At dinner we talked of theatre and television. He seemed to have seen a remarkable number of London plays and knew the names of a great many actors. He described how he had directed The The Admirable Crichton Admirable Crichton at school. He was modest, diffident about his ambition. "It"s just an idea." I did not press him, about this or about anything. We laughed a good deal. at school. He was modest, diffident about his ambition. "It"s just an idea." I did not press him, about this or about anything. We laughed a good deal.
He went to bed early, sleeping on cushions among my books in the front room downstairs. He expressed great interest in the books, but blew his candle out early. (I was watching from the stairs). At breakfast, he agreed to stay to lunch. I allowed the obsequious Gilbert to join us for general conversation at breakfast time. I did not want Gilbert to become an interesting mystery. After breakfast I turned t.i.tus loose to swim and explore the rocks, indicating that I would be busy with my "writing". I thought it better not to crowd him with my company and in any case I wanted time to think. t.i.tus seemed very happy, playing boyishly by himself. I watched his agile appearances and disappearances from the window with a piercing mixture of affection and envy. He returned at last bearing the errant table ostentatiously raised with one arm above his head. He put the table on the gra.s.s, then suggested that we should eat outside, but I vetoed this. (I agree with Mr Knightley about al fresco al fresco meals.) Gilbert meanwhile had been out shopping and had made, under my direction, a decent kedgeree with frozen coley. meals.) Gilbert meanwhile had been out shopping and had made, under my direction, a decent kedgeree with frozen coley.
At lunch, where t.i.tus and I were again tete-a-tete tete-a-tete, I decided it was time to speak seriously. I had had enough of gaining his confidence and refraining from scaring him. In any case my nerve was giving out and I wanted to know my fate.
"t.i.tus, listen, there"s something important I want to say to you."
He looked alarmed and put one hand flat on the table as if ready to leap up and bolt.
"I want you to stay here, for a time at any rate. I"ll explain why. I want you to see your mother."
The eyes narrowed further, the pretty lips almost sneered.
"I"m not going over there."
"I"m not suggesting you should. She will come over here."
"So you"ve told them. You said you wouldn"t."
"I haven"t told them. I"m just suggesting, asking you. If your mother knows you"re here she"ll come. There"s no need to tell him."
"She"ll tell him. She always does."
"She won"t this time, I"ll persuade her not to. I just want her to visit you here. Anyway, what can he do, even if he does know? He"s got to pretend to be pleased. There"s nothing to be afraid of."
"I"m not afraid!"
This was a bad start, I was fumbling and confused, and even as I spoke I imagined Ben snarling at the door.
t.i.tus said thoughtfully, "I"m sorry for him in a way. He hasn"t had much of a life either, to use your phrase."
"A life is a life, to use yours. If you"re sorry for him you should all the more be sorry for her. She has grieved about you so much. Won"t you see her and make her happy?"
"Nothing could make her happy. Nothing. Ever." The bland finality of the reply was dreadful.
"Well, you can try!" I said with exasperation. "It can"t be very nice for her not knowing what"s happened to you."
"OK then, you can tell her you saw me."
"That"s not enough. You must see her yourself. She must come here."
t.i.tus was looking handsomer again today, his cheeks lightly touched by the sun, his brighter softer hair framing the bony lumpiness of his face. The horrible tee shirt was already dry, but he was again wearing the striped shirt with the collar open.
"Look, you said you saw them "occasionally". That sounds odd to me. You were the bogy man for years, the devil himself. I can remember the desperate look in her eyes when your name came up. They can"t have forgiven forgiven you? All right, you haven"t done anything, but you know what I mean. Do you go round and play bridge or what?" you? All right, you haven"t done anything, but you know what I mean. Do you go round and play bridge or what?"
"No, of course not. He still detests me, I imagine, and G.o.d knows what he really believes. Maybe he doesn"t know himself. But I"m beginning to think he doesn"t matter much."
"Why, pray?"
"Because I think your mother is going to leave him."
"She never would. Never. No way."
"I think she would under certain circ.u.mstances. I think she would if she could only conceive of it as possible. If she saw it as possible she would see it as easy."
"But where would she go to?"
"To me."
"You meanyou want her?"
"Yes."
"And so you want me to persuade my mother to leave my father? You"ve got to be joking! That"s a lot to expect in return for lunch and dinner."
"And breakfast and tea."
"You"re a cool one."
I was not feeling cool. Everything in this conversation was going wrong, being crudely, grossly presented. I was anxious not to drive him to any sudden reaction by striking too portentous a note. At the same time he must appreciate my seriousness. The maddening fact was that I now had all the pieces for a solution, but would I be allowed to fit them together? "My dear t.i.tus, of course I don"t want you to persuade your mother of anything. I want you to see her because I know this would very profoundly relieve her mind. And I want you to see her here because it would only be possible here."
"I"m to be a lurea kind ofhostage"
This was dreadfully near the truth, but I had left out something very important which I now saw I ought to have mentioned at the start. "No, no. Just listen carefully. I want to tell you something else. Why do you think I persuaded you to stay here instead of letting you go away?"
"I"m beginning to think it"s because you want my mother to come to you because of me."
The wording of this went so far that I could scarcely say again: no. It was true in a way, but true in a harmless way, an innocuous way, even a wonderful way. As we stared at each other I hoped that he might suddenly, in this light, see it. But he kept, rather deliberately perhaps, his hard suspicious mask. I said, holding his eyes and frowning with intent, "Yes, I do want that. But I want it also because of you, through you, for you, you"re part of it, you"re part of everything now. You"re essential."
"What do you mean?"
"I persuaded you to stay here because I like you."
"Oh, thanks a lot!"
"And you stayed because you like me."
"And the food. And the swimming. OK!"
"Put it this way, and for the moment as hypothetically as you please. You are searching for a father. I am searching for a son. Why don"t we make a deal?"
He refused to be impressed or startled. "I suspect you"ve just thought of this son idea. Anyway, I"m looking for my real father, and not because I need one or want one, but just to kill a devil of miserable biting curiosity that I"ve lived with all my life."
No, he was not at all what I had expected, though I could not now think why I had expected a dullard. Something in Hartley"s rather desperate account of him had suggested this perhaps. He was a clever attractive boy and I was going to do my d.a.m.nedest to get hold of him. To get hold of him and then of his mother.
"Well, think it over. It"s a proposition, and as far as I"m concerned it"s a deeply serious one. You seein a curious waybecause of my old relation to your motherI am cast in the role of your father. I know this is nonsense, but you"re clever enough to understand nonsense. You might have been my son. I"m not just anybody. Fate has brought us together. And I could help you a lot"
"I don"t want your money or your b.l.o.o.d.y influence, I didn"t come here for that!"
"So you said, and we pa.s.sed that stage some time ago, so shut up about it now. I want to take your mother away, and I want at last to make her happy, which you think is impossible and I don"t. And I want you to be in the picture too. For her sake. For my sake. In the picture. I"m not suggesting more than that. You can work it for as much or as little as you like."
"You mean you"d take us both away and we"d all three live together in a villa in the south of France?"
"Yes. If you"d like! Why not?"
He uttered an explosive yelp, then with a theatrical gesture spread out his hands, which were cleaner now. "You love her?"
"Yes."
"But you don"t know her."
"The odd thing is, my dear boy, that I do know her."