Free The Sacred and Profane Love Machine by Iris Murdoch Page B

Sophie—’
    ‘ Please .’
    Harriet kept trying to make him talk about Sophie, she wanted to hear him rehearse his loss, she wanted, unconsciously of course, to triumph over Sophie. Any woman is glad when a man loses another woman. Harriet wanted, in a sense, to ‘move in’. It was natural and Monty did not resent it.
    ‘Are you eating? Your kitchen looks too tidy.’
    ‘I open tins.’
    ‘I do wish you’d let me deal with your letters.’
    ‘I sort out my mother’s ones, the rest don’t matter.’
    ‘But aren’t there any letters from friends —’
    ‘I have no friends.’
    ‘Oh nonsense !’
    It was true, thought Monty. Sophie had pretty well cleaned him out of friends.
    ‘Well, I’m your friend, Monty.’
    Thanks.’
    ‘Oh Monty, don’t – do break down or something – don’t bottle it all up – it’s not good to be so remote and calm about it all.’
    ‘Women always want men to break down,’ said Monty, ‘so that they can raise them up again. I am quite sufficiently broken down, I assure you, without any demonstrations. In fact I’m behaving in an extremely unmanly way. If I had an ordinary job to do I’d have to get on with it Being self-employed I can brood all day. It’s undignified and bad. Bereavement is not uncommon. One might just treat it like the ’flu. Even Niobe stopped crying eventually and wanted something to eat.’
    ‘You mustn’t blame yourself —’
    ‘I don’t. I ceased some time ago to believe in goodness. My judgements are purely aesthetic. I am behaving like a milksop.’
    Harriet got up and moved to stand beside him. A ragged-winged white butterfly, resisting the slight warm evening breeze, was clinging on to a tassel of mauve wistaria just outside the window. Monty and Harriet watched the butterfly together in silence. Beyond, upon the close-cut lawn, three of the dogs, who had come round with Harriet by the road, were waiting to escort their mistress home. (The only dog who, at great danger to his organs, Harriet felt, could jump the orchard fence was Ajax.) Babu and Panda, who usually went about together, were playing a familiar game of taking it in turns to he down and be sniffed over, and then to leap up when least expected. Nearer to the window Ganymede, his tail now languidly set in motion by the sight of Harriet, was stretched out in his typical slug-like pose, his muzzle on the ground, his front and back legs fully extended.
    ‘Dogs are normally pack animals unless redeemed by attachment to an individual master. But your collection of creatures seem to display both characteristics.’
    Harriet’s hand gently sought out Monty’s hand and took it in a firm cautious gentle grip like a retriever holding a bird. Monty smiled the wan smile, lightly pressed the intrusive hand, and moved away. He repressed a shudder at the unwelcome contact. His flesh mourned. Harriet sighed.
    Oh get out, get out, get out, thought Monty. He said, ‘Please go, Harriet dear.’
    ‘All right, all right. Aren’t we going to eat our chocolate fish? Just a little bit.’
    ‘It’s melted,’ said Monty. He began to pull off pink silver paper coated with gluey pale brown chocolate.
    ‘Not really.’ The fish lay disclosed, staring-eyed, a little amorphous but quite whole. Harriet swooped on it, detaching its tail and conveying it to her mouth, licking her fingers. Monty pretended to eat a stick fragment. He wiped his fingers on a (Harriet noticed) freshly laundered white handkerchief.
    ‘Can I ask you something else quite abruptly?’ said Harriet. ‘You know Blaise’s doctor plan. Well, if we go ahead with it, could you if necessary lend us some money?’
    ‘Yes, of course.’
    ‘And if you leave Locketts, though of course we hope you won’t, would you consider selling us the orchard? You know how much Blaise has always wanted it.’
    ‘Yes, of course.’
    ‘It seems awful to ask both things! We may have to sell Hood House anyway.’
    ‘Don’t worry about money for