The Sea, the Sea

paws neatly curled in and his back legs stretched out at full length. The dog looked up, pleased with itself.

‘You’re a funny dog, aren’t you?’ said Ben. Chuffey wagged his tail in agreement.

‘Are you going to get a dog?’ said Hartley to me.

‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘Cat man, eh?’ said Ben.

‘What?’

‘Cat man?’

‘Oh-er-no.’

‘It’s a bore about the quarantine,’ said Ben. ‘Six months, like here.’

‘The-quarantine?’

‘Yes,’ said Ben. ‘We’re off to Australia. No more English winters for us. We didn’t know it was so long when we got Chuff, but we can’t leave you behind, can we, boy?’

‘To Australia, you mean-for good?’

‘Yes.’

I looked at Hartley. She met my glance with her wide open calm violet eyes and with a sort of smile, then got up and took the teapot out into the kitchen.

‘To Australia?’

‘Yes, I can’t think why everybody doesn’t go. Lovely climate, cheaper grub, cheaper housing. God, I wish I was young again, I’d have a go out there.’

‘Ben can draw his pension in Australia,’ said Hartley, coming back with the teapot.

‘Ever been there?’ said Ben.

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I’ve been several times. It’s a marvellous country.’

‘Sydney harbour, Sydney opera house, cheap wine, kangaroos, koala bears, the lot, I can’t wait.’

‘When are you going?’ I said, looking at Hartley, who was busied with Ben’s cup.

‘Oh not at once, be five or six weeks. Got a lot of things to fix up, see my sister and that. We’ve been planning it a long time, but with the boy gone it’s easier.’

‘But-so you were always going to do this?’ I tried to catch Hartley’s eye. ‘I mean, it takes some time to plan to go to Australia-I didn’t know you were meaning to leave here-I’m rather surprised you didn’t tell me.’ I said this to Hartley.

‘I could hardly believe it,’ she said, smiling vaguely. ‘It seemed like a dream.’

‘You’ll believe it when you see that opera house,’ said Ben, ‘smiling like a great shell on the blue water.’

If they were leaving in five or six weeks the Australian plan could surely not have been made since I last saw Hartley. Why did she not tell me? What an extraordinary thing to do, not to tell me. Then I thought, maybe she didn’t believe it would happen. And if she was trying to make up her mind to bolt with me she would not tell me, that is just what she would do, not tell. I kept staring at her, but after the vague smile she looked elsewhere.

She said to Ben, ‘Do you think Chuffey will know us after all that time in quarantine?’

‘ ’Course he will! Won’t you, Chuff, eh, eh?’

‘Have some more tea?’ said Hartley to me. ‘Have a scone, some cake?’

I gulped some down and handed over my cup. I ate the piece of smashed sandwich which I had failed to put in my pocket. I felt completely confused, utterly at a loss, like a man in a strange country who is the victim of some quiet impenetrable charade. I could not understand.

‘I see you’re off somewhere too,’ said Ben, indicating my suitcase.

‘Oh-just a night in London-I’ll be back directly, I’ll be here-’

‘I can’t stand London,’ said Ben. ‘All that noise, all those people, bloody foreigners come to do a bit of shop- lifting.’

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘it is rather full of tourists at this time of year.’ I drank up my tea.

‘Well,’ said Ben in a tone which clearly implied the end of my visit, ‘maybe we’ll see you again before we go, but if not cheerio.’

‘Oh I’m sure we’ll meet again,’ I said. ‘I’ll be back in the village tomorrow. I’ll be at home all the time, no travel plans. Well, I must be off now. Thank you for the tea.’

I got up. Idiotic Chuffey began to bark at once. I gave a vague wave to Ben, picked up my case and made for the door. Hartley followed me. Ben shouted at Chuffey, then closed the sitting room door after us to stop the dog from rushing out. I was alone with Hartley for a few seconds at the front door.

‘Hartley, you’re not going to Australia, you’re not?’ The dog’s loud barking covered my words.

She shook her head, waved a hand, opened her mouth, seeming to indicate that it was impossible to talk in this noise.

‘Hartley, you can’t go. Come away with me now. I’ve got a taxi waiting at the bottom of the hill. Come, now, run, run with me, we’ll go to London, anywhere you like-look, I wrote you this letter, it explains everything.’ I hardly knew what I was doing. I took the ‘quiet life’ letter out of my pocket and thrust it into a pocket in the skirt of her blue dress.

Ben opened the sitting room door and slipped out. Chuffey was still barking and I could hear his claws clicking on the inside of the door. Ben glanced towards us, then went into the kitchen leaving the door open.

I took a step backward, taking Hartley’s bare arm and trying to pull her after me. She had rolled up the sleeve of her blouse and her arm was soft and warm, like the arm of a young girl, it had not yet grown old. We were both now just outside the door.

‘Hartley, darling, love, my own love, come with me now, now, we’ll run down the hill to the taxi.’

She shook her head, and drew her arm away. She said something that sounded like ‘I can’t’. The damn dog was still barking.

‘You’re not going to Australia, I won’t let you. Let him go, you stay. Look, the taxi’s down beside the church. I’ll be there in the church, I’ll wait an hour, two hours, make an excuse and come down, we can get away at once. It doesn’t matter about packing, just come. Hartley, don’t stay there with that man. Choose happiness, come to me.’ I took her arm again.

She looked at me as if she were about to cry, but there were no tears. She moved a step back and I released her. ‘Hartley, speak to me-’

She said, but I could scarcely hear her, ‘You haven’t understood-’

‘Hartley, darling, come to me. I’ll be waiting for you, I’ll wait two hours in the church. Or I’ll expect you tomorrow. I’m not going away anywhere, I’ll be at home. You love me, you came to me that night, you told me those things. You must come, it isn’t too late, it’s never too late-’

The sun, the roses, dazzled my eyes. Ben had come back into the hall and I could see him in the shadows beyond Hartley’s head. One moment her face seemed a mask of pain, then, but perhaps it had not really changed, it looked empty, blank. Her big tearless eyes were blank.

Ben said loudly, over Chuffey’s barking, ‘Well, cheerio then.’

I stepped backward, then turned and walked to the gate. After I had gone through the gate I looked back. They were both standing at the door waving. I waved too and began to walk down the hill.

I sat in the church for more than two hours but she did not come. I paid off the taxi man and walked home.

So, I had five weeks. I was not beaten yet. What after all could Hartley say to me, with Ben behind her listening in the kitchen? What had she actually said, what had I said? Already it was fading. At any rate she had the letter, and the letter was clear. It would make a focus for her thoughts.

What on earth was the purpose of that invitation to tea? It had obviously been Ben’s idea. Perhaps Ben had more sense and more subtlety than I had credited him with. He had set a scene where Hartley could see me, quietly and in his presence, for the last time and take a dignified and final farewell. The idea was intelligent and could even be considered humane. It was however an irrelevant device. It was plain that Hartley did not want to go to Australia, that was Ben’s plan. When had he made it? When he first knew that I was in the village, or earlier? Anyway, Hartley would not go. She would jump, at the last moment, into the rescue boat.

I had taken to drinking in the evenings. At any rate, four days had passed and I had been drunk four evenings,