ELEVEN.

Benet's guests at Penndean arrived in this order. First Rosalind and Tuan, who were staying the night, and wanted to arrive early so that they could quietly change, murmuring to each other, and settle into their bedroom. Mildred and Owen came next from the Sea Kings, almost late, because of Owen's deliberate dallying, even though they had arrived at the Inn quite early. Edward and Anna, enjoying their privilege as locals, arrived late. Benet had welcomed his guests, leading the 'love birds' up the stairs to their room, greeting Owen and Mildred, who put down their coats in the hall, and then Edward and Anna, who had left their coats in the car. Owen and Mildred were first in the drawing room, followed by Rosalind and Tuan, with Edward and Anna last. Of course it had been for some time general knowledge that Jackson was back. Now Benet, mingling with his guests, disappeared at intervals into the kitchen from which Jackson appeared distantly two or three times, waving to the arrivals. 'Waiting for Jackson,' Anna murmured to Edward. The chat before dinner was a little briefer than usual because of Benet's anxiety. At dinner the placement, from host's right to left, was as follows: Benet, Anna, Owen, Tuan, Edward, Mildred, Jackson, Rosalind, Benet. One question at least having been silently answered, soon everyone was busily talking.

Benet had, since the announcement, seen Edward and Anna together, once in London when he had invited them to a little post-marital party, and once again at Hatting when he had tactfully invited himself 'just to say h.e.l.lo'. Anna was now very apologetic.

'Benet dear, we are so sorry, we've hardly seen you, usually it seems that we've been in London when you were here, and here when you are in London - we do love you, you know!'

Benet thought that her words, though awkward, were sincere. He recalled that first visit to her when she had returned to her London house, how pleased he had been to see her, and how little he had got on with Bran! For an instant he thought, yes, I think Anna and Edward do love me. But they will not tell me much. He said, 'So Bran has a pony called Rex!'

'Yes! How do you know?'

'Sylvia told us. And I'm afraid the village knows!'

'Of course! He adores Rex, but I think he loves Spencer even more.'

'So dear Spencer is still with us. Oh Anna, I'm so happy for you and Edward, it's a sort of miracle - '

'Yes, we've been so lucky, we've done it at last, Edward plucked up his courage!'

'So you've been meeting each other in France, and in London, well of course - and Bran will go to school, to Edward's old school you said! Is he looking forward to it?'

'Oh yes, he's delighted with everything - '

'I want to make friends with him.'

'Oh, surely you are friends already!'

'He gets more and more like Lewen every day.'

'Yes, doesn't he. Look at those love birds, aren't they sweet-they are so young - you must be pleased with them, they are like your children!'

'Yes, that was such a beautiful surprise. They're going to live partly in Scotland and partly in London.'

'How can they afford two places, poor things? Tuan hasn't any sort of job, has he? And Rosalind can hardly afford an art school. Ada is not so rich now, you know. We shall have to help them out, don't you think?'

'Yes, I have already thought of that.'

'Have you seen her paintings, are they good?'

'Oh yes, quite good I think, Owen sometimes helps her.'

'Dear Owen, he's just the same, isn't he. Aren't they staying at the Sea Kings? We could have put them up.'

'Well, so could I. They wanted to stay there.'

'No chance of their marrying I'm afraid! Mildred is still in love with an Indian G.o.d, isn't she?'

'With several, I think. And some pious priest in the East End! Oh Anna, Anna, I can't tell you how happy I am with you being here!'

'You're not upset about Marian? Well, you must be a bit.'

'I was a bit, but that's all gone. She seems to be very happy with her Australian.'

'Didn't Jackson have something to do with that?'

'Well, a very minor part. How did you find out?'

'Marian wrote to me! The mother is coming here, isn't she, Ada Fox? Someone said you were going to put her up.'

'How clever these someones are!'

'Sorry, you don't mind? By the way, thank you so much for that lovely cigarette case!'

'I'm glad you like it. Edward's looking so well, isn't he, so positively beautiful, so rapturously happy!'

Owen was pressing his right foot against Tuan's left foot under the table. Tuan, not turning, did not remove his foot. He smiled a gentle angelic smile.

'So that's it for you, my dear. I congratulate you and her. She is pure beauty and pure goodness. Am I surprised? Yes, but only in a mean selfish way, and almost that's gone too. Look, now she's talking to Jackson! May I paint a picture of the two of you together?'

'Dearest Owen, why not!'

'Thanks for the "dearest". I say, Benet, what splendid wine! Benet's cellars are famous. I know she loves me, I have known her far far longer than you, ever since she was a child. I think she's got the perfect man, I thought there wasn't one. But what's all this about going to Scotland, why on earth Scotland - to make your fortunes there?'

'Well, we'll be just as much in London too - '

'You must get a proper job, my boy. I don't want her to work except at painting, perhaps she'll soon be a painter, then she'll support you! Not that painters make much money, certainly not to begin with, and, G.o.d d.a.m.n it, most of the time nothing at all! We used to sing like nightingales when Tim was here, but I think that was before your time, before you found us, that is, what a bit of luck, don't lose us, will you, don't lose me anyway - '

'Oh I won't!'

'I need you. When Mildred is up in the mountains squatting on her sari, I shall be in dire need.'

'Is she going?'

'I don't know. Fortunately she has discovered a b.l.o.o.d.y Anglican priest, name of Lucas, and my G.o.d, do you know she wants to be a priest herself! What is England coming to! But never mind her, let us feast our eyes upon your lovely bride, she's been talking to Jackson, look, she's seen us, I bet she knows what we're up to, she's laughing, she's waving, d.a.m.n, now Benet's got her. By the way, what do you think about Jackson? All right, we can discuss this later. You know, I haven't really seen you since I kissed you in the grove underneath those big dark trees. You won't refuse my kisses now? Oh thank heavens, I knew you wouldn't! Now it's time for me to do my best with Anna, while you fence with Edward, who is now relinquishing Mildred to, dear me, Jackson!'

Edward, having steered off the subject of Lewen, had been arguing with Mildred about the future of the Anglican Church. 'My dear, it is done for. If there is any Christianity alive in the next century it will be the Church of Rome. Rome has always held ruthlessly together, discipline, discipline, that is what is attractive. All the same, I doubt if that will last much longer either. The Anglicans are a catastrophe, jaunting along in all sorts like a circus, there is nothing deep there, and they know it! What might be decently preached is the truth that there is no G.o.d, no life after death, and Jesus is not divine. Perhaps something decent might follow - not just money and technology and success - I wonder - we shall never know. As for pure survival, my bet is on your Hindu and Buddhist friends - and Judaism, ask Tuan sometime - well, I'll ask him myself now he's escaped from Owen.'

Mildred had been longing for this move, it was the moment she was waiting for; just as Anna was turning to Owen and Benet to Rosalind, Mildred found herself turning towards Jackson. She trembled, she shuddered, she thought he is different, he is more, even more, handsome, his dark eyes are larger, so calm and glowing, his lips are gentle, his expression is loving, he is secure because Benet has forgiven him, no no, he has forgiven Benet! But it isn't that, he has changed, like in suffering, like a sea-change, that is in Shakespeare isn't it, his skin is different, darker and more glowing, when he went away it was for another incarnation, he belongs with people who go on and on living, perhaps it is Tibet or somewhere else, how old is he, a hundred years, a thousand years, they come like guardian angels, they are guardian angels, now he is talking to me in a strange language, yet I understand, I reach out my hand and touch his hand, and his hand is burning. I am speaking to him and he is speaking to me, he has the stigmata, he was beaten like Christ was beaten, he is damaged, like the Fisher King in disguise, he is afraid of being caught up with by those who know his shame, and how he was found in a cardboard box in the rushes beside the river. Uncle Tim found him and nursed him like a wounded bird, like Prospero on his island with his secret sin, suffering agonies of remorse, and he said 'this thing of darkness I acknowledge mine', of course Caliban was his son by Sycorax, Jackson is Caliban, he is the one who knows the island and the animals and the plants and strange sounds, Jackson is really Benet's illegitimate son, Shakespeare too felt remorse, his great soul was filled with remorse, like Macbeth, like Oth.e.l.lo, 'Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them', and the Indian Rope Trick, and Kim running over the housetops, and the Angel of the Annunciation, and yes, I shall hold the Chalice, I mean the Holy Grail.

But now she begins to hear Owen's loud voice coming through, 'Where are our great leaders now, where are our great thinkers, are we to take orders from elsewhere from invisible bureaucrats, Marx saw that poverty could and must be removed, n.o.body listened, everything is ruthless now in our so-called democracies, we must smash up our senseless, cruel capitalism, as it is no wonder Alexander has gone to j.a.pan -'

The table was beginning to disintegrate. Anna, next to Owen, was murmuring, 'Yes, yes, yes indeed,' and trying to engage the attention of Edward, Rosalind was gazing at Tuan, Benet, who had been scanning the table, at last stood up. Everyone began to rise.

Owen, abandoning his speech, now exclaimed, 'To the garden, to the garden!' Everyone, laughing and jumbling, were now up on their feet, when Benet cried, 'Wait! We must have a toast to Uncle Tim!'

All gla.s.ses were lifted and clinked and the cry was 'Uncle Tim!', followed in some cases by murmurs of 'G.o.d rest him!' or 'Dear old Tim, bless him!' Those who had known him well had tears in their eyes.

After that there was a stampede through the drawing room and out into the garden where, following tradition, the guests scattered into the dark. The stars, since it was already later in the season, were less brilliantly milky, more like a very dim carpet upon which formations more familiarly appeared. The dewy gra.s.s was wetter, the bats were fewer, the weird cries of owls came less often from the huge Wellingtonias, toward which Owen looked sadly as he saw Tuan propelling Rosalind in that direction. Edward and Anna strolled away arm-in-arm towards the rose garden, its little fountain now audible in the darkness. Owen, foiled, took charge of Mildred, who now was quietly weeping. They sat down at the far end of the terrace. Benet looked round for Jackson: but Jackson was not to be seen. Benet, breathing deeply in the moist air, walked slowly on towards the end of the lawn, alone.

TWELVE.

Rosalind and Tuan were locked together in the big four-poster in the 'old part' of Penndean. After coming in from the garden they had hurried to their bed, avoiding the others. Now it was like being in a warm very quietly moving sea, or like very slow dancers in a slow sleepy waltz. Or like world cla.s.s skating, as Tuan had remarked, except that it was all in the same place. She had skated when she was younger. Could Tuan skate? She had never asked him! How lovely, if they could skate together in Kensington Gardens! As it was, everything that should have happened between them had happened between them. It was like a fairy tale or a miracle or some absolute spiritual formation of new being, like entering a huge beautiful holy house. Before they went out to the Register Office they had both instinctively knelt down, as in some holy chivalry. They had by then pa.s.sed the stage of 'are you sure', wherein each one, quite sure, was anxiously testing the strength of the other. Tuan was indeed so absolutely a knight, Rosalind found herself positively seeing, in and out of her dreams, his glowing silver armour and his n.o.ble helmeted head. I have found him, she thought, I have found him! He held her so gently and so firmly, he so pure in heart, somehow like a child, but so courageous and so loving. The future, ahead, yes, so much of future to come, and children, wonderful children whom we both have made. All this, she herself, whom she had fought for and won, continuously bathing his wounds. And she had fought for him too, when suddenly, in a flash of lightning, she saw, and was then afraid that it was too late. So many strange things had brought them together, so many divine accidents. Really Marian had brought her to him, and he saying he would call Rosalind, and how Marian and I slept, and how Tuan looked at me in my sleep, and Marian ran away, and then Tuan and I held hands and kissed, and then Tuan said he had so much darkness and I must go away and then he told me his dreadful story about the dog when everything else was nightmare, and he was weeping, and he sent me away and I went away and I came back and he said more things about how Marian had gone and I was free to move into a s.p.a.ce really my own and he meant I was free to marry Edward, and he threw me out and I came again and he said at last, 'You have won, dear child,' and we went to bed together, and we lay down as we are lying down now. But I know that he has still strange pains which he tries to conceal from me, and I have heard him murmuring Hebrew in his sleep and I think that pain will never altogether go away, and I shall bind my love closer and closer about him, as I am binding it now, and holding him closer and closer with my love.

And Tuan, lying so closely bound beside her was thinking, whatever sort of girl I have married, I have married the right one, that I absolutely love, and who loves me and can understand my tears, and of course the pains will go on and in time may be different but will not go - and oh my dear dear parents - And more and more I shall devote myself to holy things, my Maimonides, my Spinoza, my Scholem - hmmm, I wonder if Rosalind will inherit Penndean, or will Benet give it to Marian or to Jackson or the Quakers?

It was indeed late when Edward and Anna got back to Hatting. They had not spoken to each other upon the short drive, but at one point Edward's left hand sought Anna's right. Then there was the quiet entry through the front door of the silent house, and the tip-toe mounting of the soft-carpeted stairs and along the corridor to their bedroom. Montague and Millie slept downstairs. Bran slept, at his own wish, at the farther end of the house. Reaching their bedroom they dropped their light coats upon the floor and sat upon the huge bed embracing each other. After that, sitting cross-legged, they discoursed, as Anna observed, in slow tones, like Indian G.o.ds. Beneath their soft loving voices their thoughts ran to and fro like mice. Anna thrust Edward away a little, gazing at him as if with a fresh amazement. They talked at first about Jackson, about his situation, how did Benet get him back, or did he come, and so on, and then about Benet, was he happy, was he frightened? And how utterly happy Rosalind looked, fainting with happiness, and how handsome Tuan was but probably penniless, something must be done, and how serious Mildred looked when she was talking and listening to Jackson about India and no doubt Jackson had an Indian streak himself. Anna, stroking her hand gently down Edward's pale hawkish face, thought how n.o.ble and how tragic he looked and how difficult of access even now, he could look so far away. He is counting up the problems. He had talked a little to her about Randall, she had waited anxiously and silently for that. Of course she had known, as others had, about Randall, but without details. What Edward now had to say to her was little more than what she had known before, and then perhaps forever nothing, maybe it was better so. Edward talked to Bran now more than she did. How strange, she thought, I believed that I would have to go through life deceiving my son. Will there be new deceptions? Surely not she prayed. All those photos and letters, even a letter from the doctor, she had burnt some of them but not all - she had left them for Bran to discover. And then Bran threw the stone through the window, and did not that begin everything. Oh now let them all be happiness - happiness and ponies - but also Edward's school - they would have to see - how much I wished I could believe in G.o.d! Mistress of Hatting, yes - yes! My love for Edward increases, it burns, I love him with all my heart, I would fight for him like a tiger. But I shall have as the years go by to be silent, to be discreet, even before him, even before Bran. Oh Lewen, Lewen, from the grave, you must forgive us - I know that you will.

As they undressed and lay down, turning out the light and seeking each other in the dark, Edward's thoughts, less orderly than those of his wife, wandered about. He thought of course about Randall, perhaps she was thinking about Randall too. Now she is asleep. I can hear the waves as they were - and again when I went the second time. I shall not go there again ever. I have not told her about that, I have told no one about that, as if I were to drown myself at last - but now I have her - thank heavens I came to them, oh thank G.o.d, tears, tears - and now I am back as it were at the start when I had her in my arms and she lied to me and said she was already pregnant with Lewen's child, and I understood all the lies and all about her and about everything and I had to give it all up - and I felt terrible grief but also I felt n.o.ble and how I must do what was right for her and for Lewen - oh Lewen, where are you now, wise and good Lewen, you must pardon us for Bran's sake too - Oh Bran, may he love me, may he not ever hate me. He will grow to be a man - oh what then? - but now for their sake and for my own - How lovely it was in the garden at Penn after dinner when we walked arm-in-arm and saw the little fountain and heard it so softly in the night and sighed so deeply and kissed each other and were alone - how's Bran now, he must be asleep - I must sleep too - it is nearly morning - oh G.o.d have mercy upon us.

Meanwhile, at the Sea Kings, Mildred was sitting upon Owen's bed, while Owen, wearing only pants and a shirt, was sitting beside the dressing table, pouring more whisky into his gla.s.s. His st.u.r.dy nose was red, his pale blue eyes were watery, his cupid lips were pouting, his fine untidy hair, sweeping across his brow, was chaotically visible in the mirror behind him. Still filled with the evening's exaltations and feeling that the night would never end they had of course been arguing. How extremely handsome he is, Mildred was thinking.

Returning to an earlier topic, Owen was saying, 'You were talking to Jackson, you were chatting away to him, your mouth was opening and closing - '

'Now look here,' said Mildred, 'I'm sure I said nothing, or almost nothing - He poured it all into my ears, he was talking about remorse and forgiveness and-he has such beautiful eyes and - '

'Confound the blighter,' said Owen, 'I suspect he can make himself invisible, he is something out of Kafka. I had to forgive him for vanishing. You are rather beautiful tonight. I think I said that before. I suspect if you pulled back the curtains you would see the dawn.'

'I am sure it is already with us,' said Mildred, shaking out her skirt. For ordinary everyday life she wore longish brown skirts, for rare special evenings she wore an old familiar very long dark blue real silk dress, with a lapis-lazuli brooch holding a glimpse of white lace. Now for Owen alone she had undone her long dark brown hair, taking out the tortoisesh.e.l.l combs one by one and letting her hair fall down on either side of her pale thin face. She thought, as usual, of the Lady of Shalott. She thought I really must go off to bed, I can't go on sitting here looking at this dear big animal!

Owen, picking up her thought, said, 'Don't go, have some more whisky.'

'I've had some more whisky. And you should stop. You won't be able to drive.'

'Of course I will. As for that fellow, he is bewitching you. As for you, you play the mouse while filled with pa.s.sion, and you talk too. I wish he would bewitch me. The G.o.ds of India will scoop you up in the end.'

Mildred stood up, then stooped to pick up her combs which had fallen to the floor. Her thick long glossy brown hair fell down past her shoulders to her waist. She began to gather it together and toss it behind her.

'Well, goodnight - Do stop drinking.'

'Wait, wait, pale maiden. Let me see if I can get up. Yes, I can. Let me blunder across the s.p.a.ce between us.' Only a little taller, he kissed her, upon her closed eyelids, then on her mouth.

'Oh my darling, do go to bed.'

'You love me.'

'I love you. Goodnight, dear beast. If you can fall onto the bed, I can turn off the light.'

'No, no, first I go to the loo, then I get into the bed, then I turn out the light, I promise you.'

Mildred padded away, softly closing the door and gliding quietly down the corridor. She entered her bedroom, turned on all the lights, and began to undress. She undid the old brooch, extracted the lace, and pulled her long dress over her head and dropped it to the floor and stepped out of it, then removed her petticoat, shoes, stockings, knickers and vest. Then she put on an old long-faded cotton nightdress, white but covered by very pale pink flowers. The curtains were closed. She went to the window and cautiously drew the curtains a little apart. Yes, it was certainly dawn! The sudden sight, in mist, of nearby woodland and far hills, startled her, and she hastily closed the curtains. She thought, how strange, Owen and I are together, like quite different furry animals, well at least we are both furry. How long, how very long, we have known each other. Oh how I love him, I love him so much.

Pulling the sheet and blankets back she sat on the bed. She was suddenly trying to remember what Jackson had said. Jackson. And what had she said, had she said anything? It was already fading, of course she was so tired, she would think it out tomorrow. Only it is tomorrow. She put her hand on her heart. Was it really true at last, that she might be a woman priest, and hold the Chalice in her hands? How sleepy she felt now and how happy. Lucas would ordain her. They would live among the poor. And the Indian G.o.ds would come to her too, indeed they were already with her, the beautiful powerful ones whom she knew so well, whose feet she kissed. Krishna dances and the cobra stretches his hood and the little boy shall be among the Greek G.o.ds too. Oh all pure and loving ones be with me and forgive me for my sins, and I shall hold the Chalice which is the Grail. She slipped down, kneeling beside the bed, her hands clasped, her eyes filling with tears, and she found that words were coming to her, holy words, all mixed up, repeated again and again, oh Christ, my lord and my G.o.d, G.o.d is love, let me be worthy, dominus et deus.

Owen staggered out of the bathroom, swinging the door, and made his way to bed. He gazed at the bed, frowning, then sat down heavily upon it. He had turned the light off in the bathroom but the light was still on upon the dressing table. He staggered across and put it out, now finding himself in complete darkness. He moved cautiously toward the bed and fell upon it, as suggested by Mildred. More turning and fumbling found him a light switch beside the bed. He edged the blankets out from under him and struggled with the top sheet, humping himself up and pulling it. He managed to get his legs between the sheets and blankets and wriggled himself down inside. One of the pillows fell upon the floor. Reaching down unsuccessfully to find it he somehow put out the bedside light. He squirmed back, discovering another pillow in the dark, and rolled himself at last into the centre of the bed where he could put his head down. He felt a bit ashamed of being quite so drunk in front of Mildred. Well, why bother. Would she be off one day, perhaps soon, with her G.o.ds or rotten Lucas? Tuan had been snaffled by Rosalind. Jackson had wrapped himself in a cloak of mystery, was it worth trying to unwrap him. How strange that he had had him in his house and shown him things he had shown to no one else. Jackson had been in his kitchen inventing eggs and things - how exactly did he escape? Owen could not remember. He simply vanished. I shall flounder back, thought Owen, I'll get hold of him again. How could I be so taken by that weirdo, that snake in the reeds? Benet does not deserve him, I'll get hold of him, I'll hold him down and teach him to paint - Christ - so he's got into the scene as well - Christ, I must paint, I must try to be worthy of being a painter, I must invent, I must create, I must kneel, I must start as if from the beginning. Owen adjusted his head and then went quietly to sleep. He dreamt that he was a slug crawling slowly along the ground, and Piero and t.i.tian and Velazquez and Carpaccio and Turner were standing round him and looking down at him with faintly puzzled frowns, and he was shouting up at them, but his voice was so miserably tiny, he was sure they could not hear him, and when he tried to wave his horns at them he suddenly realised that slugs do not have horns. Not even that, he thought in his dream.

THIRTEEN.

Usually now Jackson did not allow Benet into the kitchen except, and that very briefly, as a spectator. On this occasion he allowed Benet to a.s.sist him a little before the 'wedding' feast, but Benet was not to rise from the table, and Jackson, though pressed by some of the guests, was the only person to move about, bringing and removing the items. When the stampede into the garden occurred Jackson was not seen, and it was a.s.sumed, rightly, that Jackson, smilingly, rejecting help, such as had been proffered by less well-trained visitors, had disappeared to deal personally with the washing up. Benet, after seeing off all the departing guests, the young lovers being already in bed in the 'old part', listened to the still continuous sound of crockery in the kitchen, and of course did not interrupt it. Later there would be silence, when Jackson retired to copious ground floor quarters beyond, while Benet went to his big usual first-floor bedroom with the view of the garden.

However, though he undressed, he did not go to sleep, but sat upon his undisturbed bed in his pyjamas with socks and slippers. His thoughts continually returned to Jackson and the meeting on the bridge. This surprising evening continued with their walking all the way through the night from the river to Tara. Benet was all the time in terror of Jackson suddenly disappearing and never being seen again, he was also very afraid of annoying Jackson. Jackson however was relaxed as if it were just a stroll through London after a pleasant evening. Benet's suggestion of food, not repeated, was not picked up. In any case Benet was all the time absorbed in Jackson's presence and also his conversation. The presence alone fl.u.s.tered Benet, who felt that he must inform Jackson of what was going on in his absence, for instance that Edward had married Anna, and Tuan had married Rosalind. Or did perhaps Jackson already know - perhaps indeed more than Benet - of these happenings? There was also, now seeming far in the past, the news of Marian, that she was alive, also married, and in Australia. Benet also recalled, though with no intention of revealing it, his visit to Owen, who had entered so profoundly into his sorrow, suggesting even that by now Jackson had killed himself with grief! Benet had then summoned up his dream, that Uncle Tim was looking at him, and then looking down at the floor, where there was a long black shadow. These horrors, were they to be divulged also? Afterwards Benet did not know for sure what he had said on that night - he had certainly rambled on with his confessions. But what had Jackson said to him? He could scarcely remember anything except for the very last bit, which had caused Benet considerable anguish. They were now very close to Tara. What would happen? Benet thought - the worst. They stopped at Tara, at the bottom of the steps. Who would speak first? Benet said hastily, 'Listen, please, do come in - let's have a drink - I mean - I am asking you to forgive me - will you please come back again to stay, and be with me - as a friend you know - please, Jackson?' Jackson had stood, looking at Benet with, as Benet thought, a rather dreamy look. He said, 'I'm sorry, I must go. As for what you say, I think you should consider it. I shall come back here, if I may, between twelve and one, in a week, or let us say about two weeks, and see how we both feel.' After this he turned and walked away.

Benet waited for two weeks. Jackson returned after two weeks and a day. Benet had waited in anguish, distracted if he did not come, if he never came - and also wondering what on earth he was to say to him. What he decided on, and what he said, when Jackson appeared, was uttered at once, 'Listen, I want you to stay with me, to be with me now as a friend, not as a servant. Of course that's so now, isn't it? I want that you should live with me permanently - please. Of course you'll be perfectly free - '

These were Benet's first words, standing opposite Jackson in the drawing room. Benet trembled.

Jackson, smiling faintly, looked at him, then said, 'Such an arrangement, if attempted, must of course be between equals.'

Benet said, 'I am sorry, of course I take that for granted.'

'And I cannot guarantee that I will stay here or indeed anywhere permanently.'

'Well, of course. I just want you to be here as my friend - ' Jackson looked pensively away, then said, 'Well, all right, let us give it a try.'

'Thank you! Then what about a drink to celebrate? Here is a bottle and two gla.s.ses - '

'I have noticed them. A gla.s.s of water please, then I shall go. I shall be back in three days.'

'Let me drive you over in the car?'

'No, thank you.'

'So now you will live in the house - '

'If you don't mind I would rather stay in the Lodge.'

When Jackson left, Benet felt a sudden outburst of joy. He put his hand to his heart and sat down in the drawing room on a chair near to the door. Then he sat there for some time, beginning to wonder whether these 'arrangements' might not in the end break his heart.

Now all was silent in Penndean, and Benet, as he sat upon his bed, was rehearsing what had happened since the great day of the re-entry of Jackson into Tara. 'Benet's friends' were all pleased to hear of Jackson's return and of his new status and even came over formally to greet him, though many, especially the love-birds, were more concerned with their own immediate lives, and the phenomenon, now time had pa.s.sed, was settling down into ordinary. Jackson, now visible much more than Benet, might be spoken of (by some perhaps ambiguously) as 'Benet's friend'. He was promptly made famous as a cook, and urged to write a cookery book. He still worked in gardens, Benet's and those of others, did shopping, was an electrician, a carpenter, a maker of things, a mender of things, a man of all trades. Indeed he was revered as such. Life at Penn and at Tara went on almost as usual. Benet was now at least confident that he was the person closest to Jackson. With this, he held silently to his heart the final p.r.o.nouncement concerning the Lodge.

Jackson now read a great deal, perhaps he had done so before, he was often in the library when Benet was in his study. They sat together in the evenings in the drawing room and talked, 'yarned' as Benet said, Benet recalling his parents, his childhood, his first memories of Uncle Tim, how his father derided Tim, how Benet came to love him. Benet also chatted of his various travels, but had not yet ventured to mention Venice. Of Jackson's past nothing was said. 'A strange kind of human being,' Owen had called him. Jackson read, having read many of them already, all Tim's books, those about India and the East, also Tim's favourite novels. Benet had noticed earlier, and remembered now from a repartee at dinner, that Jackson had probably read Tolstoy, at least he had been able to defend Sonya. He had certainly read Shakespeare. Benet had talked freely about his own work, as it concerned Heidegger and Holderlin, these interested Jackson and he encouraged Benet to go on, indeed insisted that he should. Of course the talk often returned to Uncle Tim, and Benet had only lately remembered, he did not recall when or why, that Uncle Tim had told him once that Jackson knew some oriental languages. Of this nothing was said. The close observers, such as Owen and Mildred, and Edward who sometimes came over by himself, agreed that the pair were 'getting on very well together'. Benet knew however that there was a border over which he could not take a step. That 'stoppage' at first distressed Benet, but in time he took to it, finding in it a kind of tender vibration. More ultimate was Jackson's throwaway remark, 'I cannot guarantee that I will stay here or anywhere permanently'.