The Book And The Brotherhood

further. Shameless and unwitnessed he crawled on the ice back to his starting point, crawled up the slope and hoisted himself onto the log. With relief he undid his boots and released his crushed feet and his aching ankles. His front was covered with mud and snow, and his pale brown corduroy trousers stained anti soaking wet. He found he had lost one of his gloves. It had probably come off when Lily grabbed his hand. He thought he could see it lying a little distance away on the ice. ^He sat watching Lily's distant gyrations. Then Rose suddenly materialised, sprang up the bank on her skates like a goat, and turned on the cassette. At that same moment Jenkin and Tamar appeared out of the dusk.

Gerard and Lily, nearer now, who had been circling round each other and talking, their voices coming as thin but clear indecipherable sounds through the increasingly cold air, as the music started came magnetically together. An irresistible impulse of joy joined them, Gerard's arm was round Lily^’s waist, her hand gripped his shoulder with an unexpected strength. Lily was a better dancer than Gerard, but as wheal a mediocre tennis player can suddenly improve when matched with a good player, Gerard inspired, and with subtle pressures of her hands and body led, by Lily, danced better than he had ever danced before.

The four upon the bank, Gull sitting, the others standing, watched the dancing in intent silence. Tamar's scarf' had fallen back onto her shoulders and Jenkⁱn, observing her the corner of his eye without moving his head, saw, after a moment or two, a tear moving down her cheek. Gulliver, dazed by what was so rapidly happening, watched the astonishing performance as it approached nearer and nearer to them. He became conscious of a strange feeling in his midriff, an electrical disturbance, a pain, a sense of mingled elation and anguish. The gracious powerful bitter-sweet music collected together the darkening sky, the fading glow of the twilight, the intense cold, the pallor of the snow, and the great quiet empty countryside all around, so soon to be entirely dark.

The dance did not last long. Amid plaudits and laughter Gerard and Lily ascended the bank. Lily tossed Gull his glove which she had gracefully retrieved as she glided in. Rose

distributed electric torches to everybody, and chattering away they all set out along the footpath back to the house. It had begun to snow again, the white wandering flakes visible in the light of the torches.

‘You poor old Rose's nose out of joint all right,' said Gulliver to Lily.

'You’re coarse,' said Lily, 'that's your trouble, coarseness.'

It was after dinner. The skating party had descended upon the house tired, cold and excited, to find that it was tea-time in front of the blazing drawing room fire, sandwiches and scones, plum cake and home-made jam and clotted cream, and two big teapots and milk and sugar all standing ready, as Annushka had seen the light of the returning torches from afar. They had been away longer than expected, and not everyone felt like tea. Some were for hot baths, some for drinks. Out of politeness to Annushka everyone drank tea and, when confronted with the goodies, and amid advice about not spoiling one’s appetite for dinner, most of the skaters fumbled with the scones which with blackcurrant jam and cream were delicious. Duncan appeared, looking sleepy and hot, enquired after their adventures, and ate most of the sandwiches. Gerard and Jenkin lingered a while over the scones. Gulliver took a piece of the plum cake away to eat later. After baths and rest and drinks, dinner, served late, was no anti-climax, consisting of lentil soup, roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, wid gooseberry tart and cream. Everyone, except Tamar, ate hugely. After that they all, except Tamar, who said she was tired, sat in the drawing room drinking coffee and cherry brandy and eating some of the heavenly fudge (agreed to be remarkable) which Annushka had made for Jenkin. Rose retired soon, first to visit Tamar, then to her own room. Gull and Lily, yawning hugely, declared themselves for bed and foregathered chez Lily. Duncan and Jenkin and Gerard stayed on in the drawing room with the whisky bottle.

Gulliver regretted his remark, indeed was amazed at it. He was drunk, that was the trouble. The coldness, the exertion, the experiences, the emotions, the hot bath, all that food, all that drink, had produced a condition of unstable excitement which made continued drinking absolutely essential. It turned out that both he and Lily had brought a flask of whisky along `just in case' so there was nothing to stop both of them continuing to indulge; and Lily was rather drunk too. The horrid remark, rightly criticised by Lily, had been, somehow, the outcome of Gulliver's attempt to make sense of his mixed up state of mind, produced by Lily's exploits, what might be described as Lily's triumph. He had not at all minded the first bit when he was so hopeless and she was so brilliant, he had felt no resentment at her flying about like a winged goddess while he was crawling up the bank ruining his trousers. He had easily identified with her glory in a manner expressed by one up for our side! The dancing was another matter. The pang which it occasioned was easily identified as jealousy, the self-same pain which he had felt on Guy Fawkes night when he had opened the dining room door. But now, as then, he wondered, which am I feeling so possessive about? Or was it just a general sense of being excluded, obliterated, dropped, forgotten and made of no account? His remark about Rose had leapt out as an attempt, he now saw, to lessen his own discomfort by attributing it to someone else.

`Yes,' said Gulliver humbly, helping himself to another glass of Lily's whisky.

They were sitting, in Lily's bedroom, in armchairs which they had drawn up in front of the blazing fire, onto which Gulliver had just tossed some extra bits of wood from the Gasket at the side. Sparks which leapt out onto the rug had been hastily stamped upon. Several lamps were lit in the room which was dominated by the huge double bed with its old carved dark oak headboard. The wallpaper, blue with a lattice drsign, had faded into powdery obscurity, and the furniture, over-awed by the bed, was diffident and shabby. An oak chest under a hanging mirror served as a dressing table, a sideboard without its doors made a bookcase, a small octagonal table near the window supported more books, novels by Lawrence and Virginia Woolf chosen by Rose for Lily, and Lily's book on Thailand not yet opened. A little green sofa upholstered in much worn green velvet in flower and leaf patterns occupied the space between the windows. There were several water-coolours representin^g the Yorkshire property and the 'old big house' which had been sold by Rose's great-great grandfather. Over the fireplace there was a large modern red and orange and black abstract painting, which Gerard had brought from Gideon for Rose when Rose, prompted by Jean, had admired it at an exhibition. It later became a favourite of Jean and Duncan and was hung in their room and called ‘their’ painting.

'Ate you going to church tomorrow?' said Lily. 'Do we have to?’

‘I’m not sure,' said Gulliver, 'I hope not.'

‘You’ve been here before, haven't you?'

'No.'

'I got the impression you had been. You were telling me all about it.’

'I was putting on an act. I'm not only coarse, I'm disingenous.

'Let's not go to church. We could go to the pub. There's one in the village, Jenkin said.'

'It won't be open till twelve.'

'Oh. Sunday.'

'I suppose we could go for a walk.'

'If we aren't snowed in. Wouldn't it be fun to be marooned here like people in a detective story!'

'I don't think so.'

'I wonder if it's still snowing, let's look.'

They went to one of the windows and dragged back the heavy velvet curtains and thrust up the sash. No diamond paned Gothic on this facade. A wall of icy air advanced into the room. 'Turn out the lights,' said Lily.

They stood in the darkness leaning out of the window. The snow had ceased. A single distant light, a faint yellow spot, showed the outskirts of the village. The white landscape was invisible. But up above, the curtain of cloud had, over a part of the heavens, been rolled back and they could actually see stars, one star in particular very bright, and round about and beyond a hazy mass of other stars, a thick golden fuzz of superimposed stars, almost, at the zenith, completely covering the black dome of the sky; and as they looked in the midst of the gold dust, a star fell quickly and vanished, then another star fell. 'Good Lord,' said Lily, in a low voice. 'I've never seen a falling star before, and now I've seen two.'

After a few moments they stepped back, closed the window and drew the curtain. Gull put the lights on again and they looked at each other.