‘What job do you do?’ said Tessa.
Mir, after a deep breath, turning his big solemn face towards her, said, ‘I am, I was, a psychoanalyst. As I explained to Professor Graffe and his brother, I am no longer able to continue this work owing to a lack of concentration, the result of Professor Graffe’s blow.’
Louise said in a surprised tone, ‘Oh, a psychoanalyst?’ She added hurriedly in a sympathetic tone, ‘Of course you have been through a terrible time and suffered a terrible – you must have had – we sympathise very much – ’
‘What was it like being dead?’ said Joan. ‘Were you really dead? Well, you can’t have been because here you are!’
‘I don’t suppose Mr Mir remembers much,’ said Louise, ‘perhaps he doesn’t want to talk about it.’
‘I can’t remember it,’ said Mir. ‘I can’t remember – many important things.’
‘Of course such experiences affect the memory,’ said Louise.
She said to Clement, ‘Do you want to ask Mr Mir any questions, or tell us something about him? It must be quite an ordeal for him to confront us like this! We must not keep him with us too long or tire him out! Now, if he would like a little coffee, or if he prefers tea – ’
‘I agree that we should not prolong this gathering,’ said Clement, rising to his feet. ‘I’m sure we have all been very glad to see Mr Mir, who has had this miraculous recovery. He so kindly wished to show himself to us and to meet us all, and now we have had our little conversation – ’
During these sympathetic exchanges Mir’s frown, as he looked from one speaker to another, deepened, and his thick lips pouted with annoyance and distress. He looked, as Louise saw it and said later, as if he were thoroughly confused and upset and would soon have to be led quietly away.
Interrupting Clement’s bland mollification, Tessa said, addressing Mir, ‘Did you try to steal money from Professor Graffe, or is that not true?’
Clement began, ‘Of course he didn’t and now I think we had better – ’
Mir said, his frown clearing and his mouth relaxing, ‘No I certainly did not try to steal anything from the Professor. I am not a thief or a violent person. In fact what I did do on that occasion was to save Clement’s life, as I trust that he will now, in front of you all, confirm – ’
Clement felt himself flushing violently, the heat running fiercely to his cheeks. He put his hand to his head, clutching his dark hair. The audience, silently embarrassed by Tessa’s intervention, now shifted, looking anxiously at one another, then at Clement. Clement heard Louise murmur, ‘Poor fellow!’ and then aloud, ‘Your memory of that terrible evening is naturally a bit confused. It is your own life which has been saved, not Clement’s, after all he wasn’t there!’
Mir, now patently clear-headed and master of the situation, said to Clement, ‘Were you there?’
Clement sat down. He looked intently at the questioner and made a supplicating gesture. He said softly, ‘Please, you are dreaming.’
Mir said, ‘These people are your friends. You need not fear them. What are you afraid of?’ His tone seemed now slightly mocking.
‘Well, were you there?’ said Tessa. ‘That’s news to us!’
There was a moment’s silence. Clement, blushing and sustaining Mir’s gaze, said, ‘Of course not!’
There was a perceptible rustling in the room as everyone changed position, sat up, leaned forward, drew breath.
Louise said, ‘I think poor Mr Mir is having a fantasy, perhaps he thought he saw another man, he must be tired and ready to go home. Clement, perhaps you could drive him – or has he got his own car?’
‘I have my own car,’ said Mir. Then to Clement, ‘Come, come. I think you should tell these good people the whole story. This is what I wanted, on this interesting occasion, in this so deeply concerned gathering, to hear Professor Graffe doing. However, since he has elected to be away, it may be better for you to do it. You are a truthful person, tell them the truth, the whole truth, now is the time.’
Clement was aware of having now reached the exact point at which, in his last conversation with Lucas, he had realised that he ought to think about what was going to happen at this scene, but had been unable to think and had preferred not to. He had imagined Lucas as, somehow, handling and conducting the whole horrible business. Now he saw himself as trapped, he had been trapped by Lucas, and was now trapped by Mir. He found himself thinking: what does Lucas want me to do? One thing, a terrible thing, seemed clear. He must not admit that he had been there. Mir’s appeal to truth was in his ears. But, Clement thought, if I tell it here, later on they will get it all out of me. By ‘they’ Clement meant, not his family, but the authorities, the lawyers, the police. He thought, all I can do is appeal to Mir, make him see the impossibility of my answering his question.
He said, ‘Mr Mir is a kind and honourable man, not a thief, or an aggressor. He is absolutely blameless. He has behaved bravely and nobly and virtuously throughout. Now I suggest that we close down this conversation, which he must have found extremely tiring – we thank him very much for coming to see us this evening.’ There was a faint murmur of assent, then silence. Clement, who had risen, sat down again. Breathing deeply, he put his hand to his throat and looked at Louise’s feet and her shoes.
Mir, who had been leaning forward, now leaned back. Gazing at Clement he searched slowly for a handkerchief, drew out a large one and unfolded it. He put the handkerchief to his mouth, pulled at his tie and undid a button on his waistcoat. He said to Clement, ‘You are a liar.’
The audience moved. Louise said, ‘No! Really – ’
Clement said, ‘Look – ’
Louise went on, speaking fast, to Mir, ‘You mustn’t say such things. You are mistaken. He has said that you are blameless. What more do you want, what is he supposed to be lying about? This is ridiculous!’
Mir said to Clement, ‘You have the impertinence to speak of my honour, you graciously declare me blameless, as if I were the criminal who is now to be forgiven!’
Clement said, ‘No, for God’s sake try to understand me!’
‘You mean “spare me” – why should I – I despise what you want me to “understand”. I am asking you now to tell these people what happened! If you won’t, I will.’
Clement tugged violently at his hair, dragging it down and scratching his neck with his fingernails. He held his hands out toward Mir. ‘I did what you wanted, I assembled them here. As for what happened, how can we know? Let us leave it alone. You can’t remember – ’
Mir uttered a loud violent hissing sound.
Tessa said, ‘It may indeed be possible that Mr Mir now admits he can’t remember things and may be making mistakes. But I think we may reasonably ask him to say what he thinks happened.’
‘Oh shut up, Tessa,’ said Joan, ‘who elected you to be the juge d’instruction? The poor man is having a fantasy, I can’t see why he has to torment Clement about it. Let’s not get cross with each other, let’s leave it at that, as Clement suggested, and for heaven’s sake, Louise, let someone bring us something to drink.’
No one moved.
Mir said, looking at Tessa, ‘The lady who is a feminist and a social worker and whose name I have forgotten, has asked the appropriate question. I will tell you.’
Clement said loudly, ‘No, no – it’s all a dream.’
‘I will tell you what I saw, and what he, here, knows to be true. I saw two men under the trees, this man and Professor Graffe. I saw Professor Graffe raise a weapon, a sort of club, with the evident intention of killing his brother. After all, brothers do kill each other, it is a well-known phenomenon. I moved forward to intercept the blow. Graffe then deliberately changed the direction of the blow and hit me instead. I knew nothing more until, a considerable time later, I regained consciousness in hospital, and heard an account of how a man had mistaken me for a thief and struck me with his umbrella. No mention was made of the other man or of the club which I had so clearly seen. I assume t
hat the Professor gave the weapon to his brother and told him to run.’ After a moment everyone began shifting and looking about. Joan said, ‘Oh what nonsense!’ Louise said, ‘He must have imagined it all. It’s a fantasy, perhaps a dream he had when he was unconscious.’ Moy whispered to Sefton, ‘Oh do let’s stop this, it’s all wrong somehow.’
Tessa said, ‘Why didn’t you say all this at once to the police?’ Mir hesitated. ‘I wanted to find my murderer myself.’
‘What were you doing underneath the trees?’
‘I just like walking about in the evening.’ He added, ‘It was a summer evening.’
After this there was a short silence. Tessa said, ‘Won’t Clement – ?’ Clement, who was sitting with his hands over his face, said nothing. Then she said, ‘I’m sorry, I know I’m an intruder – but when someone is called a liar shouldn’t something be said?’ She kicked Bellamy. ‘Why don’t you say something, what do you think?’ Bellamy was silent. He carefully moved a little farther away.
Clement stood up, turning to Mir who was sitting with his hands in his pockets and his long legs outstretched. For a moment Clement, his face contorted and blazing, was hardly able to utter. Then he spoke, choking, sounding almost tearful, ‘Please go away. You have upset these people by talking like this. You don’t understand. We wish you very well. Now just go please.’
Mir rose. ‘All right, I’m going. I didn’t realise this was to be a charade arranged by you and your brother. I shall certainly not talk to you again. I shall talk to other people, I shall take other steps. I’m sorry I have upset these ladies – I thought perhaps – but I was wrong. I’m sorry.’ He bowed to Louise, then marched out of the door. After a moment Louise followed him down the stairs, but he had already taken his coat and umbrella, and the front door had banged after him.
Everyone had now risen and was ‘mingling’ in the fashion prescribed by Joan, who had now taken it upon herself, with a perfunctory ‘Louise, you don’t mind, do you’, to instruct Sefton and Moy to bring up some refreshments. Coffee appeared (no tea) and white wine and sherry and various biscuits, so that it did become a party after all, and ‘Did we need it!’ as Joan said to Tessa later.
‘How outrageous, about Lucas trying to kill Clement, the man is crazy, it’s just a mad dream, like Louise said.’
‘He may be covering up something else. Perhaps he’s an impostor, not that man at all, but a blackmailer, someone who simply wants money.’
‘You mean a crook, who read about the case in the paper – after all, Lucas hardly saw the man.’
‘What did he mean about “talking to other people” – does that mean the press?’
‘Or the police. If this goes on we may have to sue him.’
‘Lucas is one of us, we must close ranks.’
‘Where’s Clement?’
‘He’s washing his face in the bathroom.’
‘No, he’s down in the kitchen helping the girls.’
‘What do you think, Tessa, you were the one who made it all spill out?’
‘I don’t know what to think – there’s something bogus about him.’
‘Yes, he admitted he was confused and can’t remember, he even forgot your name – ’
‘Oh anyone might! No, it’s – ’
‘He’s ill,’ said Louise, ‘poor thing, they must have let him out of hospital too early, he needs looking after.’
‘But fancy inventing all that stuff about Lucas, it’s libellous! I think he’s really a mugger and he’s putting all this out to defend himself.’
‘I think Joan is too suspicious,’ said Tessa, ‘actually there is something naive about him – ’
‘Yes,’ said Louise, ‘something childish – ’
‘It’s certainly odd – and very interesting.’
‘Interesting!’ cried Joan. ‘When he dares to attack Lucas and Clement in that rotten way! Louise thinks he’s ill. What does Clement think? Is he ill or wicked?’
Harvey and Aleph had been listening to this conversation. Clement had just returned from the kitchen with Sefton and Moy.
Clement said, ‘He’s certainly not wicked – ’
‘What do you young people think, what does my son think, that profound student of human nature?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Harvey, ‘I believe there’s something more behind it all, something quite strange. Of course he may be mad, but – ’
‘Mad, yes, what Louise calls ill. That’s why Clement kept trying to stop him talking, he didn’t want the mad stuff to come out – there’s something awful about him.’
Harvey, who was also standing, leaning on his stick and holding a glass of sherry, had been observing Aleph. He could see that she was excited, her eyes were bright, her lips parted in a strange dazed smile. Now she kept looking at Clement.
‘And what does Sefton think?’ cried Joan. ‘Speak up, Sefton, you sober sibyl!’
Sefton said, ‘The main thing he said was that Lucas wanted to murder Clement, and that just can’t be true.’
‘Of course it can’t be true, that goes without saying, but is it mad, or vindictive – why did he say those weird things?’
‘Sefton is right,’ said Tessa, ‘it’s that, the impossibility, that suggests it’s all an elaborate lie to conceal the fact that he really is a thief and a mugger, didn’t the police talk about an offensive weapon – but I don’t see – ’
‘Yes, that’s what’s important,’ said Joan, ‘that he’s a thief, he was after Lucas’s wallet, no wonder Lucas fought back, he would! What do you think, Moy, you funny little oracle?’
‘Well – ’ said Moy slowly, ‘I don’t know – he seems to me to be – dead.’
Joan and Tessa laughed. The others looked worried.
‘Really!’ said Joan. ‘And what about Alethea, goddess of truth and beauty?’
‘Oh – ’ said Aleph, ‘I think he’s an absolute pet.’ There was now some, rather uneasy, laughter.
‘And Bellamy? Where’s Bellamy?’ But Bellamy had gone.
‘I must be off’, said Clement. ‘Louise, thanks, it was jolly kind of you to – I’m very sorry it all turned out so – ’
‘Clement, darling, don’t grieve – let the others go, stay here with me – ’
But Clement was anxious to go, and ran away quickly down the stairs.
Moy had gone up to her room, Sefton was already downstairs finishing the washing up. Tessa had telephoned for a taxi for herself and Joan, and had offered to take Harvey too.
On the landing, in the doorway of Aleph’s room, Aleph said to Harvey, ‘Go with them, dear Harvey.’
Harvey said, ‘There’s something I want to tell you – ’
‘Not now. Whatever it is, don’t worry. Whatever it is – oh Harvey, how strange that was – ’
‘Yes, wasn’t it. Aleph, I love you.’
‘I love you too. There’s the taxi. Goodbye.’
‘Wait, please! Please let me talk to you!’
Bellamy had sat for a moment, stunned by Mir’s sudden exit. Then, as everyone, recovering from their surprise, had jumped up and began talking, he had pushed his way past and out of the door, colliding apologetically with Louise upon the stairs. He was delayed at the front door because, although he had so often passed through it, he had never discovered, or could not remember, how it opened. He opened it at last, nearly forgetting his overcoat, pausing to seize it, and rushed out, stumbling down the two steps outside. Inhaling the keen cold, he looked wildly, desperately up and down the road. The pavements were glinting with speckles of frost. The fuzzy foggy night air had assembled the lamplight into thick localised yellow globes. He glimpsed a tall figure disappearing into a remoter dark. Slipping, nearly falling, upon the frosty surface he ran. Reaching out his hand he pawed, trying to seize hold of a sleeve.
Mir stepped back quickly, gripping his umbrella, startled, even alarmed, peering closely at Bellamy. Then he walked on with Bellamy hurrying beside him. After a short silence he said, ‘Now you are th
e one who said nothing.’
‘Yes, I’m sorry, I’m Bellamy James – ’
‘You’re the man with the dog.’
‘No, not now, I’ve given the dog away. He now lives with them.’
‘Why? I liked the look of that dog. What was his name?’
‘Anax. I have to live alone – I’ll explain – I’ll explain everything – I do so much want to talk to you, to ask you – ’
‘What do you want to ask? Would you mind walking a little faster?’
‘Yes, yes, I want to, oh so many things – is there somewhere where we can talk?’
‘Let us walk on please.’
‘How did you know I had a dog?’
‘I observed you, as a friend of Professor Graffe, when I was waiting for him. I thought he might visit you. Never mind, those days are over. What do you want?’
‘You said such extraordinary things. Surely you must be mistaken, I mean it can’t possibly be – all the others thought – ’
‘Never mind what they thought, what did you think?’
‘I don’t know. I think it is impossible, what you said. But somehow I believed, I had to, I believed in you. So you must be mistaken. I think I see how it is, how it must be, how it happened – look, here’s The Raven, can’t we go in, it seems to be quiet – ’
‘I think not. It’s too near to – let us walk on, if you don’t mind going some distance. I like London walking. There’s a pub called The Castle. So you doubt the truth of what I said?’
‘Well, no, I mean I don’t think you – ’
‘Never mind, we can talk later. Let us walk now in silence. Hmm, a little mild rain. I’m sorry I cannot accommodate you under my umbrella, perhaps you should put on your overcoat.’
The Castle turned out to be a very quiet almost invisible little pub in a cul-de-sac. Mir seemed to know the host. Bellamy obediently sat in a corner letting Mir buy the drinks. With some difficulty he pulled off his damp overcoat. The well-lighted little bar was indeed quiet and almost empty. The transactions (he suddenly thought of them as transactions) taking place at the bar were conducted in murmurs. He thought, it’s all so bright and clean and empty, it’s like science fiction, it’s like in a spaceship, loss of gravity, all movements slow, like swimming. He felt the dampness of the rain which had fallen on him before he put on his coat and the aching of his body within his damp clothes. He was so tired. He could not remember when he had last eaten anything. He had spent the day sitting on his bed waiting for the time to go to see the show. What had he seen? Something terrible – aconjuring trick. He felt his eyes closing. He thought, it’s a dream, it’s a dream place, like the dream Louise said he had when he was unconscious. Mir arrived with the drinks. Bellamy had asked for a lager, only when it appeared he remembered that he had given up alcohol. He seized it and drank some. It tasted wonderful. Mir was drinking what looked like lemonade.