The Bell - Iris Murdoch [24]
Toby jumped nervously at being addressed. He had settled into being a spectator. 'I don't know,' he said.
'Toby doesn't know,' said Nick. 'Has the erring wife arrived?'
'Mrs Greenfield has come,' said Michael. 'Well, I hope we'll see more of you up at the house. I must be getting back now.'
'So you keep saying,' said Nick.
'Look after Toby,' said Michael.
Nick laughed, which made him suddenly look pleasanter, and opened the door ceremoniously for Michael, who, with an awkward gesture of farewell, disappeared.
'Incompetent,' said Nick, looking after him into the darkness. 'Incompetent. Oh God!'
He turned to Toby. 'I expect you'd like to go to bed, young man. They've probably told you to get up at a shocking hour. And it must be tiring at your age to meet such a bunch of crazies in a day.'
'I am tired,' said Toby. 'I think I'll go up.' He looked Nick firmly in the face, determined not to let him see that he was nervous.
'Up, yes,' said Nick. He turned to where Murphy, who had completed his supper, was standing meditating. 'Up!' he shouted to the dog.
Murphy turned quickly and sprang into the air. Nick caught him in his arms and cuddled him against his chest. The dog's paws and smiling jaws appeared over his shoulder.
'The great thing about a dog,' said Nick, 'is that it can be trained to love you.' He leaned over the table to seize the neck of the whisky bottle, went slowly from the room, with Toby following, and began heavily to ascend the stairs, still hugging the dog against him, to a small landing with three doors.
'That's the bathroom,' said Nick. 'My room, your room.' He kicked open the door and turned the electric light on with his elbow.
Toby saw a neat fresh room, an iron bedstead with a white cover, rush mats on the floor, a white painted chest of drawers, the window open wide. The night air, warmer and smelling of flowers, came to them as they entered.
'It's nice up here, isn't it?' said Nick. He buried his face nuzzling in the dog's fur.
Toby was embarrassed. He said, Thank you so much. I'll be all right now.'
'Have a drink?' said Nick. 'A little nightcap of whisky and water?'
'I don't drink, thank you very much,' said Toby.
'Ah, well,' said Nick, 'I wish I could say that we would teach you to drink deep e'er you depart. Spiritual draughts, perhaps.' He put Murphy down on the floor. The dog jumped up, pawing his trousers, wanting to be picked up again.
'I think I'll leave you Murphy,' said Nick. 'We're a bit short of blankets. He'll keep your feet warm in the early morning. Nothing like an extra dog on the bed. You stay here!' he said to Murphy, pointing.
'Thank you,' said Toby. He could have done without Murphy, who appeared to be a somewhat rebarbative dog. ‘I’ll be all right now.' He sat down on the bed. He felt exhausted and desperately wanting to be alone.
Nick stood at the door looking down at him. 'I'll tell you something funny before I go,' he said. 'You've been put here to look after me.' He smiled, and looked once more pleasanter and younger.
Toby smiled back, not sure what to say.
'Well, well, we must look after each other, mustn't we?' said Nick. 'Leave your door open, in case Murphy wants to come out during the night. Good night to you.' He disappeared, leaving the door ajar.
Toby felt too tired now even to indulge in surprise and speculation. He went quickly to the bathroom, and returned to find Murphy sitting beside his bed. The monkey-like intelligence upon the dog's face was unnerving, and he stared at Toby with a kind of tense immobility which seemed like the prelude to an attack. Toby thought he had better establish some sort of formal relations, and said 'Murphy, good dog!' holding out a propitiatory hand. Murphy considered the matter and then licked his hand thoughtfully, looking up at him from under what seemed to Toby extremely long eyelashes for a dog. This reminded Toby that his master had extremely long eyelashes for a man.
Toby looked at the half-open door of the room.