The Book And The Brotherhood

ⁱⁿ a future where 'all would be mended'. Dunncan had declined any further meeting with Gerard, but they had talked on the telephone. Gerard had emphasised two things, that Jean had decided to leave Crimond, the parting was her initiative and her wish, and that Crimond had accepted her decision, so that they in fact parted by agreement. He added of course that Jean now very much wanted to see Duncan. He mentioned, vaguely, a car accident and a sprained ankle. Duncan listened to all this without comment, and eventually rang Rose to say that it'jean wished it, he would come. Rose, who had carefull^y composed what Gerard was to say, to Duncan, was in. fact not at all sure that she had understood Jean's state of mind. She had been unable, talking to Jean, to make up any coherent picture of what had happened. Jean had been frantic with grief. grief, Rose could only assume, at having lost Crimond. For Rose recalled Jean's first cry of 'He's left me!' and did not believe in the 'cold mutual agreement' which Jean spoke of later. It was Gerard who had been so anxious to hurry on the meeting with Duncan. Rose felt it was premature. But Jean had actually said, in answer, it is true, to Rose’s repeated questions, that she wanted to see Duncan, and Rose had passed this on without qualification to Gerard. Gerard was certainly far from clear about Duncan's state of mind, even after he had realised how absurd his earlier expectaions were. Duncan's laconic coldness on the telephone had expressed a continuation of his attitude of 'what is it to me?', though he had, evidently after reflection, told Rose (not Gerard) that he would see Jean. But did he wish to see her perhaps simply to revile her? Might he even attack her? Duncan was Gerard's old friend, but he was also a fey creature, a big unpredictable bad-tempered wild animal. Of course, as Gerard later told himself, Duncan must feel the gravest doubts about the story of Jean deciding to leave and Crimond agreeing, and had excellent reasons for believing that Crimond would never let Jean go.

'Bring him up then,' said Jean.

The door closed behind Rose. Jean moved toward the centre of the room. She stroked down her untidy hair with her fingers and looked up at the darker blue latticed square where the picture had been and where the colours were still jumping about', sometimes the blue foremost, sometimes the white. Her pale face was now flushed, her cheeks red as if brushed with rouge. She moved a few steps back, turning to face the door.

The door opened and Duncan came in alone. He turned and shut the door quietly, then turned back toward Jean. He wnq smartly dressed in a dark suit, one of his best, with a blue and white striped shirt and a dark tie. He had shaved carefully and combed down his wavy crown of dark, now rather longish, locks. He looked huge in the room, fatter perhaps, bulky, broad. They stared at each other. Jean, trembling, clawed at her throat again. As Duncan moved towards her she felt fear but did not move. She could not have spoken.

She saw a strange frightening look upon his face. Then he said, 'Suppose we sit down? Suppose we sit down there?' He pointed to the green sofa.

Jean backed awkwardly, then sat. The sofa groaned under Duncan's weight as he sat down beside her. He turned his big head towards her. Shrinking a little away, she looked at him.

`Do you want to be with me again, Jean?'

`Yes.'

`Are you sure?'

`Yes, yes -'

`Then that's settled.'

He put his arms round her, enveloping her, and they both closed their eyes. The strange look had been his attempt to control an agonising tenderness and pity which he now, allowed to distort his face as he looked away over her shoulder.

Rose, now back _in London, was surprised a few days later to receive the following letter.

My dear Rose,

I wonder if I could call on you to discuss a matter of importance? I suggest Tuesday of next week at ten. Could you let me know by letter if that is suitable, and if not suggest other possible times? Do not try to ring up, as I have had my telephone disconnected.

With kind regards,

Yours,

David Crimond.

The letter upset Rose, frightened her, made altogether a disagreeable impression. She assumed that the 'important' matter must be Jean, and that Crimond wanted her to intercede or interfere or mediate on his behalf'. What impertinence! Mr at once started to write a reply saying that Jean was happily reunited with her husband, and Rose could see no useful purpose to be served by a meeting. While writing this reflected that perhaps after all Jean had given a truthful vount when she said that the parting had been mutual, and that sense willed by Jean. After Duncan's reappearance the idea that Jean had left Crimond was of course emphasised by her and also by Rose. Crimond's appeal, if that was what it was, was at least valuable as evidence for this view of the matter. After further reflection, and before she had completed her indignant letter, Rose began to wonder if there were not possibly something else which Crimond wanted to say to her. Crimond's motive in thus coming, a motive anyway, might even be his wish to display his indifference to Jean's departure. Rose wondered uneasily if this something else might concern Gerard. Perhaps _it was in this quarter that her mediation was being asked for? Perhaps Gerard had for some reason refused to see Crimond, and Crimond wanted Rose to remove a misunderstanding? It might be something to do with the book; and the wild idea even occurred to Rose that Crimond wanted her to persuade Gerard to provide a preface! Anything which connected Crimond with Gerard made Rose feel very uneasy. On reflection she thought it was more likely to be something about_.Jean and Duncan, though not necessarily what she hall assumed at first. Perhaps Crimond simply wanted confirmation that Jean and Duncan were now reunited. Rose felt very disinclined to talk to Crimond about her friends, such talk, however careful, might be misleading and seem disloyal. However, she could be brief and it was an opportunity to set the whole matter completely beyond doubt. Last of all it occurred to her, and seemed quite likely, that Crimond was coming formally to thank Rose, and through her the Gesellschaft, for their financial support all these years! He had, in this, preferred her to Gerard, since Gerard would want to ask questions about the book. She decided to see Crimond. Her instinct was to tell Gerard at once, but she thought better of it. The meeting was best kept to herself until afterwards, until she knew what it was about and could compose a suitably calm and rational account for general consumption. If she told Gerard now he would fuss and speculate and make her even more apprehensive. So Rose wrote a reply saying simply that she would await him at her flat at the time suggested.

Duncan and Jean were still at Boyars, being looked after by Annushka. Rose and the others were, after so much anxious speculation, overjoyed at what at least appeared to have happened. On that rainy morning, after Duncan had gone upstairs, Rose had sat in the drawing room with the door open unable to do anything except wait and listen and tremble. Annushka brought her some coffee. Should she take coffee to Mr and Mrs Cambus? No! Annushka was just as anxious as Rose, but they exchanged no words on the subject, not event looks. Time passed. Rose walked up and down the drawing room, wandered into the dining room, into the library, into the study, into the turret room, into the billiard room, stood on the front steps and looked at the rain, listening for any sound from up above. What did she fear? Cries, screams, the sound of weeping? Nothing could be heard at all. Then, at a moment when she was back in the drawing room, Duncan came down the stairs. He looked stolid and enigmatic. He said nothing at once but marched across to the fireplace, followed by Rose who had run to meet him.

Duncan replied, gravely, `I think it is all right.' But by now something in his face, a sort of composed complacency, had told Rose that things were not bad, were perhaps good.

‘You mean,' said Rose, anxious for clarification which could be clumsily obtained now and might be more difficult later on, ‘You mean you'll be together again, really and truly together?' She avoided asking: have you forgiven her? That might not be the way to put it at all.

‘We hope so.' (Rose was glad of that `we'.) `It appears that we don't, in spite of recent events, hate the sight