Jackson's Dilemma (17 page)

Something disturbing did occur which Marian felt she must conceal from Edward. She had considered from the first days of her return whether she should tell him what ‘had happened to her’ in Australia. At first she was ready to tell, only somehow she couldn’t quite find the moment, and Edward seemed to have little interest in Australia anyway. Then it was too late and she was beginning to forget it all, absorbed in church services, invitations, dresses, and dealings with her flighty mother. Sometimes she and Edward thought they should just run away instantly to a Register Office! But of course there were always reasons which made this impossible. Meanwhile she watched Edward closely and thought about the ‘gloom’ which she was now relied upon to send away. As ‘the day’ grew very near, Edward returned to Hatting and Marian stayed in London, finishing her wedding clothes and packing up a box of ‘secrets’ destined for various ‘worthies’. However, at a time now nearing the date of the wedding Marian received a letter with an Australian postmark. It was of course from Cantor and it was a love letter. Marian cried over this letter, suddenly she felt - what did she feel? She remembered the farm and the horses and - she hastily replied at once that she was getting married, but she gave no details. Cantor replied that she had been so vague about marriage he was not sure whether it was serious! But anyway he was soon coming to England on business and hoped to see her. This was a cooler letter. Marian was already very disturbed, and alarmed at finding herself so. She wished now that she had told Edward about Cantor. Now she could not, it was too late. She spent some time wondering whether she should reply to the letter, but finally decided not to. It was a matter of weeks, now of days, everything was fixed.

Then one afternoon, coming back alone to her flat, she saw an envelope upon the floor with a London postmark. Cantor was in London and this was once again a love letter. He said he was on business, not for long, he was assuming that she was as yet unmarried and would she come and have lunch with him? He would ring her up. The telephone rang. She went into the kitchen and covered her ears. Half an hour later it rang again. Of course she must answer telephone calls, it might be anybody. She lifted the telephone. It was Cantor’s voice. She began hurriedly to babble, no she could not see him today or tomorrow, no not for lunch or dinner, she was sorry - as Cantor’s charming and familiar voice went calmly on she said, ‘Cantor, please stop, please
please,
I cannot see you, I am to be married to Edward.’ He said ‘When?’ Today was Monday, the marriage was on Wednesday. Marian said quickly, ‘The end of next week.’ She was terrified that Cantor would want to be invited, perhaps ‘butt in’. After a short silence he said, ‘Well, that’s it.’ Then he said, ‘I’d like to see you all the same. I’ve got a present for you - well, now it’s a wedding present! Can we meet, can we have lunch, tomorrow for instance?’ She said quickly, ‘Lunch, no, sorry - ’ ‘Then before lunch then — I
must
give you my present!’ ‘Oh,
all right,
but not for long and where - ?’ She thought, I’ll see him and
get it over!
He said, ‘I suggest Kensington, Barker’s, why not, tomorrow and the ground floor among the shirts, at eleven?’ Marian, who had no lunch plans and only a desire not to spend lunchtime with Cantor, said
all right
and put down the phone. She felt extreme irritation and annoyance with herself as well as with Cantor. She had not even asked him for his telephone number - she could have rung up and cancelled it all!

The next morning, the day before the wedding, Marian, talking on the telephone with Edward, suddenly recalling Cantor’s tryst, fell suddenly silent. Edward said, ‘Are you still there?’ Am I still there? Yes, I am still there. Of course she is. A day had passed, another day was to be. Yes, she would come tomorrow with all her ‘secrets’. Yes, now, she might be out. ‘Oh Edward - Edward -’ He said, ‘Don’t worry, it will be all right!’ She thought, my clothes are nearly ready now, at once, I could go to Penn
now-
only
now
I have to wait for
that man!
But I did want to wait anyway, didn’t I? I still have so many little things to do! She set off for Barker’s to ‘get all that over’.

Coming into the shop and into the shirt department she looked about. Had he not come? Oh be it so! Then she saw him some way off examining a shirt. She felt at once a sort of shock, and put her hand to her breast. Had she
forgotten
him, how could she have forgotten him? For an instant she saw him as she had seen him at the very first, before he had seen her, just before someone had introduced him to her, just before he had danced with her, his thick blondish heavy hair ‘long enough to tuck in behind his ears’, his narrow slightly curved nose, his look as of a picture of some commander, perhaps a Doge of Venice. Venice! She felt slightly faint. The vision passed. He turned, saw her, and waved. She waved. They approached each other smiling, he with his large blue eyes, yet wild, like an animal. They shook hands, smiling, laughing, he kissed her cheek, and they wandered together towards the exit and out into the street, walking and talking to each other. She noticed he was carrying a large leather bag. She asked after the farm, after Judith, had her baby come? Yes, a lovely baby, a boy of course. Why of course! And why had Cantor come to London? Oh on business for his brother, who had all sorts of investments over here, and was even considering a London office. Was he staying long? Not very long, but he had rented a little flat. What was in that big bag? Well, it was, in part, her present! Why in part? If she were patient she would soon see!

Marian had not, in all their quick laughing conversation, noticed where they were going. They had left the High Street and were now in a maze of small streets near Gloucester Road. ‘Where are we?’ ‘Wait and see.’ Marian was only now beginning to feel uneasy, and was about to say ‘I
must
go’ when suddenly they reached their destination.
Stables.
What? Horses.

 

 

 

Everything, including boots, which so beautifully fitted, had been unloaded and donned, they had trotted across the road and into the Park. Marian was intoxicated with joy. She had, since her return from Australia, simply given up riding. Now she was back in the saddle, even though in the demure surroundings of Hyde Park. Of course Cantor was a better rider, but Marian was good, they rode knee to knee upon their beautiful frisky horses, Jinny and Samuel. Then Cantor and Samuel went ahead, beginning to gallop, which was strictly forbidden, and Marian had difficulty in restraining Jinny, the horses loved it, the riders loved it, and at one moment when they were close side by side Cantor murmured to her: ‘The Last Ride Together.’ She had remembered the poem too. After that they took their excited horses back to the stables where Marian kissed them both. After that, as they walked away together, it appeared that it was lunchtime. They had lunch together at a pleasant restaurant in the High Street. It was then that Marian discovered that she had lost her watch. After that she said that she must take a taxi back to her flat, and at first there were no taxis, and when they found one Cantor gave his address not hers. Marian complained but Cantor said he just wanted to show her something and she could easily get back afterwards.

 

Then somehow they were at Cantor’s flat where they were having tea sitting side by side upon the sofa, Cantor with his arm round her. He asked her again when her wedding was, and she replied, ‘Wednesday.’ ‘This Wednesday?’ Feeling suddenly very tired she said, ‘Yes.’ ‘Really? You have been deceiving me!’ After that they lay down side by side on the sofa and Cantor kissing her said that she had cruelly deceived him, and anyway she could not possibly be in love with Edward, she did not believe what she was saying, she knew that she was in love with him, Cantor. Marian started to cry. Then they were lying in bed together and she had taken off some clothes. She said that he was deceiving her and that he had
drugged
her, she was frightened, he must let her go, only their arms were round each other, and she had lost her watch. After that they made love and she slept again. Cantor said he was certain that she was going to marry the wrong man, and that it was
not too late,
she must know that it was
not too late,
and he wanted her to write down what
she really felt.
She loved him, Cantor, and no one else, and he wanted her to write this out, and he would show it to ‘other people’, he
could not bear her giving herself away to someone else.
He made her sit up and write out on a piece of paper,
‘forgive me, I am very sorry, I cannot marry you’.
Marian wrote out something and drank some more tea, only now it was whisky, or something else. After that she fell into a deep sleep.

When she woke it was daylight and she was in Cantor’s arms and they were making love. She felt for her watch, she had lost her watch, she felt a little sick. Suddenly she sat up, where was she, with whom was she? She started to cry, to sob, and began to look for her clothes, which Cantor handed to her. Cantor sat down on the bed. She struggled, and began clumsily to put her clothes on, still crying. What day was it? Where was she, what time was it? Cantor said, ‘I have delivered your message.’ ‘What message?’ ‘You wrote the truth. You wrote
“forgive me, I am very sorry, I cannot marry you”.’
They have seen it. Only they have not seen me. ‘I don’t understand. I
don’t believe
you. Oh God, what time is it?’ ‘It is the afternoon, and all is over.’ ‘What day? oh oh oh -’ ‘There is no wedding. You do not want this man. I
know
you do not want him. At this moment he is relieved. As you will very soon be. Rest now, rest my child.’

But Marian continued to sob, even to scream, as she put on her clothes and looked about for her coat and her handbag. Cantor, still sitting on the bed, watched her. He said, ‘Marian, will you marry me?’ ‘No, no, no, I
hate
you, I
hate
you! Oh God, I have been a fool, what an awful fool I have been, I have destroyed myself -’

‘Listen, you did not really want him -’

‘No, and I don’t want you either, I
detest
you, I shall kill myself. Why, why, why - I don’t even know if you tell the truth —you have
drugged
me, you are
hateful.’

‘I tell the truth.’

‘Goodbye -’ She ran, holding her coat and her handbag, to the door. She struggled to put on her coat. She tried to open the door, in vain.

‘Listen, my child -’

‘I must go, go -’

‘Well, where to? Let us just go somewhere together in my car.’

She fell down the steps, got up, then got into the car, banging the door. Cantor got in the other side, locking both doors, and the car set off. He kept turning to look at her. She looked like a mad creature, transformed, grimacing, her eyes staring with terror and horror. Cantor shuddered, he repeated mechanically, ‘I have told them, I have been there in the night.’ She uttered a wailing cry, holding her mouth wide open. Then she said, ‘I have lost my watch,’ and ‘Leave me,
leave
me, I
hate
you — ’ He said, ‘Will you come with me, will you marry me - I am sorry to have hurt you - I must take you away - please
please
— I
love
you. I’m going home-come with me.’ He turned to her terrible face, she was crying, fumbling at the door. She said, ‘You have destroyed me, you have driven me mad, oh
my wedding day,
let me out,
let me out.’
By now Cantor was crying too. He said, ‘Why did you keep on lying?’ Then, ‘Oh
hell
! I’m going back to Australia.’ He turned the car into a side road, then leaned over and opened the door. She slipped out and fled, disappearing among people. Cantor struggled with his seat belt, tried to get out to follow her, then sat back cursing. After a while he turned the car.

Marian ran, then walked, among strange unknown streets, weeping. People stopped, some trying to speak to her, asking what was the matter, could they help. She hurried quickly as if she knew where she was going, turning at random down unfamiliar streets. At last, trying to conceal her agitation and her tears, she entered a little hotel.

 

 

 

 

Benet could scarcely sleep during those days, he did not know where to station himself, whom he should be watching or watching for. He prayed for some, even slightest, signal from Marian. How could she be so
cruel
as to
vanish
in that way! Surely she knew that no one would hurt her or blame her - yet perhaps the poor child was captive somewhere - or was
dead.
Edward too had disappeared without any word - was it possible that he had found her - found her and killed her - or killed himself? Oh what terrible mad thoughts! Later would theyall look back, in sunlight? Was it possible that it might all be
put together
again, the love, the marriage, all made clear and made happy? Perhaps they just wanted a Register Office marriage after all!

Owen was going through a drunken phase because, he said, Mildred was gone into the spirit world. When Marian was mentioned he cursed and said the little fool would never come back. Anna was remote and curt and spoke of ‘going away’ or ‘clearing off’. When Benet rang her she put down the telephone as soon as possible, sometimes at once. Benet had decided that he should at present stay at Penndean, since it was possible that Edward would, might, come back to Hatting. It was also, he felt, most likely if Marian were at some time, ashamedly, to return, he felt sure that she would come to him, and at Penn. But every day just brought more grief and anguish.

In fact, after days, Edward did return, and to Hatting, and straight from there to Penn, where he was told that Benet was. He walked in one evening, after Benet had been making his usual fruitless telephone calls, and came straight to the drawing room. Benet, putting down the telephone, went to Edward and seized his hand. Edward quietly thrust him away. Benet could see at once that Edward had altered. His face was twisted with exasperation and pain. He looked past Benet and out through the open glass doors into the garden, towards the copse of birch trees which the breeze was slightly moving. For a moment he stared out in silence, with the same anguished expression. Then he turned to Benet with a colder sterner expression and said, ‘I have not much time.’