An Unofficial rose by Iris Murdoch

Author:Iris Murdoch [Murdoch, Iris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: prose_classic

Chapter Nineteen

WHEN Hugh telephoned Mildred Finch and asked her in agitated tones to come round and see him at once she hardly knew what to expect. It was only ten o'clock in the morning, so she felt it must be something urgent. She could not help being pleased to be summoned, and she smoothed down her fluffy hair and put on her smartest hat as for some delicious outing.

It was a dark morning. The hot weather had broken with the thunderstorm of last night, and a light warm drizzle fell from an overcast sky. The stairs at Brompton Square were positively twilit, and when she reached Hugh's drawing-room she found it quite like a cavern, one lamp glowing and the light turned on above the picture. Hugh rushed forward at once and seized her hand.

'My dear Mildred, he said, 'how frightfully good of you to come! I felt very foolish after I'd telephoned you, but I did feel I needed to see you.

'My dear Hugh, said Mildred. 'I need to see you all the time. I'd like to have you on a slow boat to China!

'Dear: said Hugh vaguely. 'Now do sit down. Would you like a drink or something? Well, I suppose it's too early —’

'I'll have some whisky' said Mildred firmly. 'Whisky and soda. One never knew what lay ahead.

Hugh got the whisky, absently, his face puckered up. He looked very tired and haggard. He put the siphon, decanter and glass beside her and stood back, looking down at her with his round brown eyes full of apologetic solicitude. He looked like a big podgy elderly faun. He said, 'I know this is a monstrous imposition on you, Mildred. But one must use one's friends, mustn't one? When one's old and ridiculous anyway one may as well do as one pleases in this respect.

'But I'm dying precisely to be used! said Mildred. 'I refuse to say we're old. And I could never see you as ridiculous. How adorably ridiculous he is, though, she thought. 'What's it about? I'm all agog.

'Ah, said Hugh, shaking his head, in a tone which implied that their cheerful opening was sadly out of key with what must follow. He turned away from her and went to his customary place in front of the picture. Then he took to pacing. He said, 'I'

‘I’ve had a rotten night. I'm sorry', said Mildred when he failed to follow this up. 'The thunder was something dreadful.

'Not the thunder, said Hugh. 'I'm sorry. Perhaps I shouldn't have asked you to come. I feel feeble and stupid and mad.

He said this with such vehemence that Mildred felt an immediate alarm and concern, together with the thrill of being appealed to at such a level. She felt she must have her wits about her. She put her glass down. 'What is it, Hugh?

Hugh paced a while in silence, head hanging. He said, 'I must sound off to somebody. It isn't that I want your advice. Or do I? No I don't think so.

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