The Magus - John Fowles [88]
� Queiquechose de tout a fait inattendu_." He took her elbow and led her aside; their backs to me, and a retreat into Greek. She nodded at what he was saying. She looked at me and gave an open-palmed gesture, whether of resignation or regret, I could not tell. I made a small smile of appreciation at her change. I felt obscurely guilty; a hit of a bull in a china shop; no poetry, again. Conchis watched her go back composedly towards her cottage, then turned to me. "Before Julie comes, I have much to say. First of all, I am not deceiving you about America. I must be there next week. I have meetings. Bourani will be shut from today." He looked at his watch. "And I shall be fetched at noon. I have a plane to catch in Athens. Now, money. There is... Patarescu. And other expenses." He produced a fat envelope from the briefcase. "Here is a small sum." He put it on the table. "I don't want it." "I insist. It is nothing. Ten million _drachmai_." I smiled; even allowing for Greek inflation, ten million was well over a hundred pounds. "I can't take it." He held out the envelope once more, but I shook my head very firmly. "There is one other thing, Nicholas. For purposes I will not go into now I told you only yesterday that I did not like you. This was merely to authenticate what will not now take place today. So permit me to say, at this unexpected last moment, that I have grown to like you very much. Will you believe me?" I said, "Of course." "Whatever may happen to you in your life, I beg you never to stop believing that of me." I bowed. He caught sight of something behind me, then glanced at his watch; things were carefully timed. "Ah. Here is Joe. All this was meant as a surprise. What we call a _d�ntoxication_." It was the Negro. He was strolling through the trees from the gulley, in an elegant dark tan suit. A pink shirt, a club tie. It was still a surprise, this mask-dropping, however much sharper Conchis had intended it to be. The Negro raised a hand as he saw us looking at him. The moustache had disappeared. Conchis went out in the sun to meet him, to stop the pretence again. They spoke a few words, I saw the Negro look up towards me. Then they both came back across the gravel. Conchis looked almost a dwarf, a dapper dwarf, beside him. Joe was about ten years older than I; a hard face, but a mobile and intelligent one. "Nicholas, this is Joe Harrison." "Hi." "Hello." My tone was so curt that he grinned and gave a little side glance at Conchis. He reached out a hand. "Sorry, friend. Just did what the book said." I took his hand, but I said, "With some conviction." "Man, I was born in Alabama. In that kind of play..." he gestured back, as if he had left his role in the trees. "I didn't mean that." "Okay." We exchanged a wary look. He pulled a pack of American cigarettes out of his pocket and shook one out for me, then he turned to Conchis. "Your bags?" Conchis said, "They're upstairs." "Fine." He glanced at me as I lit his cigarette, appeared to search for words, shrugged, smiled secretly and went indoors. More footsteps. Hermes appeared, carrying two more suitcases over the gravel down to the beach. "Maria" followed him, under the colonnade. She came to me holding out her hand. "_Sans rancune, j'esp�, monsieur_." Her accent was heavily Greek. I frogged a small grimace, and took her hand. "_Eh bien. Bonne chance_." Perhaps it had not been so difficult for her to play Maria; she was veil-eyed by nature. I watched her black back descend the path, sink out of sight. And at once, in the same place, Julie rose into sight, climbing up from the beach. Conchis said, "Let us pretend for a few moments." She was wearing a white linen suit, a navy-blue shirt, town shoes; and the shock of seeing her in contemporary clothes was the greatest of the three. She was walking quickly, lightly, in a way that made me realise I had never seen her move naturally before. She came across the gravel and I stared at her and she stared at me. Running up the steps, a glance at Conchis, she came, fficking her hair back, with a sort of cool impudence--I was sure the whole entry had been rehearsed--and stood some six feet in front of me; her back to Conchis; then winked, to invalidate the part she was playing. "Good morning." Her voice was louder than usual; formal. "Hello." She gave another glance, a tiny smile, back at Conchis, who stood by the table, then looked boldly back at me. But hidden from him her left hand was against her ribs, and two fingers were crossed "Maurice has told you? About America?" "Yes." "I am sorry." I said, "All you've told me was... not serious?" She put a touch of sharpness into her voice; turned half away. "I can't discuss it. I'll write. I've got to get away." Conchis came up beside us and looked at her so long that she frowned. "Not very convincing, my dear. From an actress of your calibre." She sensed at once that something was wrong; flashed a look at me, saw me smiling; then back at Conchis. "Has...?" Her eyes accused mine. "My dear Julie, I asked too much. I miscalculated. Nicholas has made me understand how much." She said to me, "You haven't --" "No. Nicholas has done nothing. Our little final plan--we forget it." I reached out a hand and she took it hesitantly, still bewildered. "But you said..." "Never mind. It is better so." Joe appeared in the music-room door, with two heavy suitcases. Conchis said, "Hermes will help you." "Aw come on. You know that joke about the white man's burden? They make it, we carry it." I watched Julie's face. She gave an almost indignant look at Conchis, then frowned again; then smiled, ruefully; then glanced at me. Joe was grinning at her. "Sorry, baby. There were times I could have said worlds." Conchis said, "Joe is a very promising young actor from America. I'm afraid he played his part rather too well." She said, "I'm afraid he has." Joe put down the cases. "No hard feelings?" He put out his hand and she shook it, though like myself, tentatively. She kept on looking at me, with a vague hint of hurt suspicion in her eyes, as if I might still be in the conspiracy. "Well, one thing," said Joe, "now you both got the same person to hate. Nice for you." He picked up the suitcases and started dowrt the steps. But he paused a moment and grinned goodbye back at us. Conchis came forward. "Well. I will say no more. Julie, you will stay... as long as you wish. I have told Hermes." She looked at me. "Maurice has lent me his house in the village. That was the surprise." I smiled at him. "A very nice one." Julie said, "I'm so sorry, Maurice. I've ruined everything." "My dear, perhaps this year... perhaps I hoped for too much. But next year. Who knows? There may be an English master at the school who has newly married?" His dark eyes fficked momentarily at me. "And we shall see. I have an idea that requires... but not now." He put his hands tenderly on her shoulders, gave her a long look. "I am forgiven?" She smiled, and he leant forward and kissed her on both cheeks and patted her avuncularly. There were more footsteps on the gravel: Hermes coming back from the beach. Simultaneously I became aware of the till then unconsciously heard sound of an airplane. He called to us in Greek, "It is coming." Julie came beside me and I put my arm round her and kissed the side of her head. Conchis was moving, speaking in Greek to Hermes, giving instructions. She breathed something I hardly heard. "Oh I've so missed you. You got my letter?" I chueked her shoulder. "Why's he cancelled --" Conchis turned, as Hermes walked back to the cottage. "Now, Hermes has lunch ready for you. Then he is going to lock up and if you wish to go back in the boat..." "I'd rather walk." "He can carry your case then. And I will telephone June." Julie said, "Oh please do." I could see the plane, a seaplane, coming in to land off Bourani; an echo. "The colonel's arriving." Conchis smiled. "No. But Greece's only air-taxi." He faced me. "Nicholas. After all." It was not an adverbial phrase. Taking me by one hand and Julie by the other, he raised his eyes with a sort of tender irony. "'Look down, you gods, and on this couple drop a blessed crown." Then he let go of our hands and started down the steps. We followed. But he turned quickly and pushed us back with his hands, both upraised, forbidding, though with a smile--he had his briefcase in one hand and the hieratic gesture was guyed. Julie called, "Next year." He lowered his arms then, and made a kind of openhanded final-curtain bow before turning and going on. We let him drop out of sight, then we went down to the seat beside the path. We saw Maria and Joe were already sitting in the boat. Conchis and Hermes appeared. The green seaplane was taxiing back slowly towards the land. A man in khaki dungarees clambered down onto the port float and got ready to hold the boat as it came alongside. We saw the three passengers wave. Maria went into the cabin, then Conchis, then Joe, and the suitcases were passed up as well. Then boat and seaplane drifted apart, and the latter swung round into the wind. The engine roared, twin white trails, and in a very short time it was airborne, heading first southeast, then climb-banking steeply to the left, Athensward. I turned to Julie. "What was the last scene that wasn't?" She gave me a grave, searching look. "You didn't know?" "Look, I'm the victim. Not you." She stared at me, then she pointed at the disappearing plane. "I was to be on it, you were to think I'd decided to go to America. You would have left here feeling... a little miserable?" I kissed her hair again. "But the plane would have landed the other side of the island. I was to go to the school. Perhaps wait in your room. You'd have come back --" I smiled. "I almost wish he'd done it." "I'd love to have seen your face. But what's happened? What did you say to him?" I pulled her round. She had a pale lipstick on, her tilt-cornered eyes had been accentuated by a pencil; and she was wearing a bra for the first time. I had yet another Julie to discover. I said, "Later."