'Would it have been so bad?' asks Howard. 'Ah,' says Miss Callendar, coming back into the room, carrying a tray with a small brown teapot on it, 'you think it's an honourable roster. A roll of souls redeemed. Is that the gist of your story?' Howard stands in front of the window, which has a view across to the castle, and the wintry sea beyond; he says, 'At least I hope you don't believe Mr Carmody's version.'
'I listen to all stories with a certain healthy scepticism,' says Miss Callendar. 'Do you take milk?'
'Thank you,' says Howard, coming and sitting down on the sofa. 'Well,' says Miss Callendar, 'a tale of sexual heroism. Do go on.'
'I gather you know that I'm being accused of giving good marks to Miss Phee in exchange for her sexual favours?' says Howard. 'Yes,' says Miss Callendar, 'sugar?'
'And of general moral corruption,' says Howard, 'with political overtones. No, thanks.'
'I think you're basically being accused of intellectual persecution,' says Miss Callendar. 'Fig biscuit?'
'Thank you,' says Howard, 'but the key question is now my relationship with Miss Phee. You remember Miss Phee?'
'Do I?' says Miss Callendar. 'Yes,' says Howard, 'you saw me with her in my downstairs study, when you were leaving the party.'
'Then that was one of your episodes,' says Miss Callendar, 'I did rather think so.'
'It's a pity you don't know her better,' says Howard, 'then perhaps, instead of supporting Carmody's crazy story, you'd understand what repressed, evil nonsense it is.'
'I don't support his story,' says Miss Callendar, 'I don't know whether his interpretation of what he saw is right at all. I just have some reason, don't I, for thinking he saw what he saw.'
'But he saw nothing,' says Howard, 'he just looked in on me from outside and made corrupt deductions. Miss Phee's one of my advisees. She's a very sad creature. She's been through everything. Boy trouble, girl trouble, an abortion, the identity crisis, a breakdown…'
'The menopause,' says Miss Callendar. 'Not yet,' says Howard. 'Well, you've something to come,' says Miss Callendar. 'A scone? I made them myself.'
'Thanks,' says Howard. 'She had a crisis that night. A lesbian affair she was having was breaking up.'
'Isn't she rather hogging the problems?' asks Miss Callendar. 'She was in trouble,' says Howard, 'she went down there-into my study, and started raking through my papers. She wanted to be caught, I think; anyway, I caught her.'
'The instinct of curiosity,' says Miss Callendar, 'Mr Carmody has that too.'
'Of course I was angry. But the meaning of the situation was obvious. She was crying out for attention.'
'So you laid her down and gave her some,' says Miss Callendar. 'No,' says Howard, 'it was very much the other way around.'
'Oh God, how awful,' says Miss Callendar, 'did she attack you? Were you hurt?'
'I'm explaining to you that she has no attraction for me,' says Howard, 'I didn't want her at all. I wanted someone else. In fact, you. Out there beyond the window.'
'But in my absence you settled for her instead,' says Miss Callendar, picking up, from a table at the side of her chair, a mysterious ravel of knitting, with needles sticking through it, and beginning to work on it, 'I see.'
'I want you to see that this situation isn't as Carmody described it,' says Howard, 'I want you to see it humanly.'
'My Carmody wanted you to see him humanly,' says Miss Callander. 'Miss Phee needed help,' says Howard, 'that's why I took her into my house. That's why she was there over the weekend while my wife was away.'
'Did your wife go far?' asks Miss Callendar. ' London,' says Howard. 'You did tell me about her trips to London,' says Miss Callander, 'she' goes her way, you go yours. No doubt you were able to give her much more attention and help while she was away.'
'She was there,' says Howard, 'to look after the children. We looked after them together. We took them to the fun-fair, walked in the country with them.'
'But you did give her some help,' says Miss Callendar, 'there were photographs of the help.'
'Exactly,' says Howard. 'This was the situation that Carmody spied on and photographed and distorted into a blackmailing accusation, without knowing anything at all about it.'
Miss Callendar, sitting in her armchair, turns a row of her knitting. 'I see,' she says, 'and that's the story.'
'That's the essence of it,' says Howard. 'Do you mind if I criticize,' asks Miss Callendar, 'with my imperfect expertise?'
'Do,' says Howard, 'Well, it's a tale of fine feeling,' says Miss Callendar, 'it's certainly got more psychology than Mr Carmody's. It's less ironic and detached, more a piece of late nineteenth-century realism. But his has more plot and event. I mean, in his, Miss Phee needs help quite frequently. And then you have to nip off one evening and help Dr Beniform, and then there's the little episode with me, not treated in your version at all, though I found it quite significant.'
'It's hardly relevant,' says Howard. 'That's not very kind,' says Miss Callendar, 'one hates not to be of the essence. Relegated to a minor sub-plot. In his version I'm quite a rounded character.'
'I'm not sure where you fit,' says Howard, 'since I thought the point of his story was that I'm giving good marks to Miss Phee for corrupt reasons.'
'That's right,' says Miss Callendar, 'his story does have an ending. Where you hand out the As and Bs. For her overall performance, as they say.'
'Whereas the point of my story is that if I did grade Miss Phee for her performance it wouldn't be As and Bs.'
'Yes,' says Miss Callendar, 'I see that. Well, there we are. It shows how different a story can be if you change the
'Angle of vision!' says Howard, 'That man's followed me everywhere, tracked my movements, photographed me through curtains, and then built a lie out of it. He's a fine angle of vision.'
'An outside eye's sometimes illuminating,' says Miss Callendar, 'and of course, as Henry James says, the house of fiction has many windows. Your trouble is you seem to have stood in front of most of them.'
'Look, Miss Callendar,' says Howard, 'these aren't just two little stories, for your bright critical intelligence to play with.'
'No,' says Miss Callendar, 'there's more at stake. But the trouble is I don't find your story's complete. I don't think you're telling me everything. I don't know what you want of Carmody, I don't know what you want of me. There's a plot you haven't given.'
'I don't know whether you know how much is at stake,' says Howard. 'You realize that Carmody's spied on me every day, and made up a story out of what he's seen that could cost me my job?'
'You could say he was trying to make sense of you,' says Miss Callendar. 'For God's sake,' says Howard, 'he's probably outside there right now, on a ladder, making up a story about me taking your clothes off.'
'Does he lie?' asks Miss Callendar, 'Isn't there some truth?'
'I'm not taking your clothes off,' says Howard. 'He's not out there,' says Miss Callendar, putting down her knitting on the table, and staring at him with wet eyes. 'He's got an appointment now. He's seeing the Vice- Chancellor.'
'Giving him his angle of vision,' says Howard. 'Yes,' says Miss Callendar, 'I'm sorry, I really am. Is it true that you could lose your job? All he wants is a chance.'
'There's a thing called gross moral turpitude,' says Howard, 'it's a very vague concept, especially these days. But-I have political enemies who'd pin anything onto me they could.'
'Oh, God,' says Miss Callendar, 'this is why I came home. I just couldn't stand it. That awful, prying meeting this morning. I've been so worried about both of you.'
'About him?' asks Howard. 'He's a blackmailer and a fascist. You worried about him?'
'He's not a fascist, he's a person,' says Miss Callendar, 'he's a boy, and he's silly and frightened, because you frightened him. He's behaved wickedly and ridiculously. I've told him, I've attacked him. But he thinks you're out to destroy him, just because he is what he is, and he's struggling for his survival.'
'That's right,' says Howard. 'In other words, the classic fascist psychology. When everything's going in your favour, you claim belief in the values of decency and convention. But when your position's challenged, to hell with all that. Fight for self-interest with everything you can lay your hands on.'
