The Unicorn (20 page)

‘That we must rescue her.’

Effingham spread his hands, and a smell of hopelessness was wafted to him from the shabby furniture. The room had old memories of his visits to Riders. The sky was darkening outside. He had been in all these places before. He said, ‘Naturally that is what one thinks at first. But believe me, Miss Taylor, it is not so simple. Mrs Crean-Smith doesn’t want to be, as you put it, rescued. She’s all right as she is, more all right I suspect than you and I have any means of knowing, and we must respect what she has chosen.’

‘Rubbish,’ said Miss Taylor.

Effingham felt a thrill of delight. He could not determine whether he was thrilled simply at being contradicted by a handsome clever girl with the face of a Michelozzi angel, or

whether he was somehow pleased at the prospect of being forced to think in some new and dramatic way about his imprisoned lady. He had had, after Pip’s revelations of yesterday, a night of bad dreams; and his visit to Hannah this morning had had a painful exciting quality.

‘Look,’ he said, ‘this is something which it’s very hard for an outsider to understand. It’s something very delicate and curious, like one of those strange shells that Alice picks up on the beach. Any violent or clumsy interference could only do harm. Hannah has lived with this business for a long time and has made her peace with it. Her life is her own property, and however odd or painful it may seem to us to be, we have no right to try to alter it against her will. There’s a great deal here that we can’t see, a great deal in Hannah and a great deal else. We can’t even remotely know the consequences of actions. Damn it, we must respect her enough to let her decide for herself how she wants to live! There’s no place for arguing or pressing or persuading. There’s plenty we can do for her just by letting her know we care. But there’s no place for action. Come, Miss Taylor, you must see that. And now let’s just wind up our lesson, shall we? It seems to have ended anyway. I suggest for next time -‘

‘I’m sorry,’ said Miss Taylor. ‘And do please call me Marian, by the way. I’ve thought about all this too, I’ve thought about it in exactly this way, but I’m still not convinced. You say we don’t know the consequences of actions. But we don’t know the consequences of inactions either, and inactions are actions.’

‘And please call me Effingham, well, Effie. I was an existentialist when I was your age, Marian. Now I suggest you read -‘

‘Please, please don’t put me off,’ she said, stretching out her hands across the table. ‘I’m tormented by this business, I really am. And there’s no one to talk to.’

Effingham hesitated. It was true that inactions were actions. What was it that had given him such bad dreams last night? Pip’s remark about ‘if her nerve breaks’. Yet why should her nerve break, had she any nerve left to break? He felt
a
strong desire to unburden himself to Marian Taylor.

It was beginning to rain. Tadg scratched
at
the door and Effingham
got up to let
him in. The
wet dog
shook himself and then made much of Marian, who had knelt to greet him. Effingham said, ‘I think I’ll light the fire, it’s getting cold.’

They moved over to the fireplace and while Effingham crouched to set a match to the paper and sticks, Marian and Tadg settled themselves on the rug. The girl was wearing a big blue skirt of light local tweed which she must have bought in Blackport. She spread it out and the dog sat upon it, beaming up at her. Effingham seated himself on a footstool, tending the fire. It was another scene, suddenly more intimate.

‘How do you get on with the people over there, apart from Hannah I mean? I know you get on splendidly with Hannah.’

‘Oh, well enough. Denis Nolan is quite nice and Jamesie is perfectly sweet. I’m a bit nervous of Violet Evercreech, but she doesn’t bother me. I think Gerald Scottow is charming - oh, very very charming - only I can’t make him out.’

Effingham was slightly irritated by this eulogy of Scottow and for a second tempted to give Marian some further information, but he restrained himself. ‘No one you talk to - about Hannah? Who was it told you about the situation?’

‘Nolan did. But I haven’t discussed it with him. I think he’s -well, hostile to any idea of doing anything.’

‘He’d be out of a job!’ said Effingham. He mustn’t be spiteful about Nolan.

‘It’s not that,’ said Marian seriously. ‘He somehow really believes she
ought
to stay there. I think he’s rather religious or something.’

‘You’re not religious, are you? I’m not either. I certainly don’t think anything like that about Hannah.’

‘So you see,’ said Marian, pursuing her own train of thought, ‘there’s really no one over there I could count on, for the rescue I mean. I’ve thought of Jamesie, but he’s rather young and silly. And I haven’t managed to get to know Scottow - yet.’

‘Leave Scottow out. But you speak as if you were really planning something! Be realistic. What on earth could you do?’

‘That’s what you’ll help me to decide.’ She turned her fierce brown eyes upon him. ‘You’re the only person who can help, so you’ve got to help.’ She sat there, near to his knees, stroking Tadg and glaring with purposes.

‘You’re mad,’ said Effingham. ‘I’ve already told you there’s nothing to be done. But perhaps you’d better get rid of it all by talking to me. Then I can send you back with more sense in your head. Go on.’ He was dying to hear what she was going to say.

‘My first thought,’ said Marian, ‘was simply to talk to Hannah and persuade her to make arrangements to leave. I couldn’t at first believe that any rational person - and of course she’s rational - would tolerate the situation at all - or having tolerated it, wouldn’t take the chance to clear out if some well-disposed body were ready to help them. I thought perhaps she just hadn’t gone because she was afraid of - someone in the house - or because she just couldn’t manage to make the arrangements by herself. She’s dreadfully unpractical.’

‘I hope to God you
didn’t
say anything to her?’

‘No, I didn’t. I somehow became sure that she wouldn’t let me persuade her. She’d answer with some nonsensical kind of talk. And there was no point in just upsetting her. So then I started to think about kidnapping her.’

‘Kidnapping
her?’

‘Yes. I thought if I could get someone to help me we might well, just hustle her into a car and drive her away.’

‘You perfect romantic fool!’ said Effingham. This was no longer agreeable. The vision conjured up by these words frightened him very much indeed. He pictured Scottow on the road behind them. There was violence, violence asleep in that situation. He did not want to be the one to waken it. That is perfectly unthinkable, as surely you realized when you’d thought about it?’

‘I thought about it, Effingham. I think I’ll call you Effingham, as Mr Lejour does. And yes, I decided it was no good. It was too unfair to her, and anyway it could easily go wrong. Then I had a third idea.’

‘Well, I hope it was better than the other two!’ He booted some turf into the fire. The rain was pelting down outside.

‘My third idea is this,’ said Marian. ‘It’s the idea of a modified rescue. You see, it depends on what you think about her frame of mind. As I see it, her frame of mind is pretty mixed up. She began - forgive me for talking about her in this way. You’ve known her far longer than I have. But I’m a new broom, and I can’t help behaving like one - and I
do
care about her very very much. She began, this is how I see it anyway, by simply being afraid of that beastly man, just paralysed with fear. Then she became rather apathetic and miserable. Then she began to find her situation sort of interesting, spiritually interesting. People have got to survive and they’ll always invent some way of surviving, of seeing their situation as tolerable. At the time when Hannah might have survived by just hating them all, or might have survived by just bursting out and kicking it all to bits, she decided to become religious instead.’

‘You don’t think much of this solution?’

‘I’ve nothing against religion in general, though I can’t do it myself. But if it’s to be any good it’s got to be freely taken to, out in the open as it were. Hannah took to religion, or the spiritual life or whatever the hell it is, like someone taking to a drug. She had to.’

‘I suppose that is
a
way of taking to religion, because one has to. But I see what you mean. Go on.’

‘Well, and all the time she was being more and more hypnotized by the situation itself and by all those people surrounding her and murmuring into her ear in different tones, but all murmuring it: you’re imprisoned. And now she’s simply spellbound. She’s psychologically paralysed. She’s lost her sense of freedom.’

‘And what would you propose to do about it?’

‘Give her a shock. Pull her out of it just far enough to make her realize that she
is
free and that she’s got to make her own decisions. This will, I’m afraid, also involve a little kidnapping.’

‘Marian,’ said Effingham, ‘go on.’ He spoke sarcastically, but his heart was suddenly in a flurry. To hear someone speaking in this calm analytic tone about the situation, speaking as if there were alternative actions which could be rationally considered, was a refreshing sacrilege.

‘What I suggest is this,’ said Marian. ‘And I shall need someone to help me, and I hope it will be you. We decoy her into a car. That shouldn’t be impossible. You often drive up to the house. We offer her a little lift up the drive, say. Then we turn round and drive like hell as far as Blackport to the fishing hotel.’

‘And then -?’ It was quiet and dark in the room now.

‘I don’t know what happens then. That will depend on her. Perhaps we have some lunch and take her back to Gaze. At least it will convince her that she won’t die if she goes outside the walls. You know sometimes I think she half believes that. Anyway, it will be a shock. And if she shows the slightest hesitation, the slightest desire not to go back, we drive her to the airport.’

‘Good God,’ said Effingham. He looked at her with admiration and horror. He apprehended her as beautiful, invigorating, dangerous, destructive. He must listen to her no more; and as he immediately reflected that this conversation must never be revealed to Max, he measured how far for a moment she had tempted him. But it was all an absurdity, a wicked irresponsible absurdity.

Alice came bustling in, pushing a well-laden tea trolley. ‘Well, did you have a good lesson? Why, you’re almost in the dark. Carrie will bring the lamps directly.’

‘Fine, thanks,’ said Effingham getting up.

The golden lamplight entered the room and as it shone on both their faces he held Marian Taylor’s gaze for a moment and slowly shook his head.

Dearest Marian,

Thanks awfully for your letters. I owe you one, I know, I’ve been awfully bogged down. You remember I said I’d write that leaflet for the Campaign, well that’s come home to roost, and there’s the Fifth Form play which I’m alleged to have agreed to produce (I can’t recall that, can you? I must have been drunk!) and they’ve just decided to change the G.C.E. syllabus, as I expect you’ve seen in the paper, and I’ve got some sort of beastly virus that I can’t get rid of - and well, that’s enough to start with by way of excuses! Gosh, I envy you, old girl, with nothing to do but read the Princesse de Clèves with Mrs Thing until you both fall asleep! (I did laugh at your description.) Seriously though the country must be magnificent I hope you’re doing plenty of walking. Tell me about the birds as there doesn’t seem to be much else going on. And don’t think I’m getting at you with the above remarks! A little lying fallow does no one any harm. I wish I could lie fallow even for a couple of hours. Whatever the reverse of fallow is, that’s me!

However there is one bright spot on the horizon, which is that I’m going to fly to Madrid at half term. I know it’s immoral to pass one’s pennies on to old Franco, but I’ve decided I don’t want to be blown up without having seen Las Meninas and Las Lanzas. So several of us have arranged to go in a party on the cheap. That girl Freda Darsey, the one you were at school with, is coming too. Shell be handy as she knows Spanish. She doesn’t seem a bad stick, though too bulbous for the taste of yours truly. I’ll send you a postcard.