The Good Apprentice by Iris Murdoch

Author:Iris Murdoch [Murdoch, Iris]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Classic
Published: 2001-12-01T08:00:00+00:00

‘It’s fairy food, not fit for humans — ’

‘It’sjust the healthiest diet in the world, that’s all!’ said Mother May.

‘You know we wouldn’t hurt you,’ said Ilona, ‘we love you.’

‘Oh Ilona,’ said Edward, ‘I want to ask you something — ’ Only he could not remember what it was he wanted to ask.

Later on, alone, he remembered. Had Ilona’s feet really left the ground during that dance up at the dromos? Perhaps even then he had been suffering from some sort of sensorial disturbance. Was he being systematically drugged, was it possible? And how could he ask Ilona about that, about her bare feet sweeping the tips of the grasses and then rising above them? Wouldn’t the question sound mad — or rather impertinent, impolite? If Ilona could dance on air was that not her business, perhaps her secret?

When it was coming towards twilight and Edward was alone he got up and walked slowly into his bathroom. He relieved himself and looked out of the window across the courtyard at the other side of Selden, East Selden, where the women lived. The women’s quarters. He saw a lamp go on in Ilona’s room and the idea of going over to see Ilona came to him. Why not? Because it was impossible. He stared, but could see nothing in the room, the sky was still too light, full of a darkish blue brilliant air which made everything look vivid yet also fuzzy and occluded, or perhaps it was his eyes. He walked slowly back and sat on the bed. He began to think about Brownie. He had been dreaming most dreadfully about her but could not recall the dreams. Now everything depended on Brownie. Of course it depended on Jesse too, but that was more obscure. Brownie was more urgent. Perhaps his sickness was simply Brownie’s absence. What is that state called when you simply cannot go on living without somebody? Being in love. Was he in love with Brownie? Oh the yearning, the yearning was so great, he felt his entrails surge as if they were being drawn out. He leaned forward over the pain of it, holding his breast, holding his stomach. He thought, I can’t wait until she calls me, perhaps she will never call me, I’ll go over and see her tomorrow, I’ll look for her till I find her. Or perhaps tonight.

He stood up and very slowly put his clothes on. It was possible to stand, even to think. He walked slowly over to the window and looked out over the pavement in front of the house and at the trees of the drive and the white flinty stones along it. He thought, I’ve been here for a long time now. The vivid evening light made monumental the turreted yews, the ash trees were already in feather and young oak leaves a pale greenish yellow, all very still in the quiet windless evening. Edward noticed all this detail as if it were important for him to know, as if he would be questioned about it later.

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