The Magus - John Fowles [147]
were dangerous. Good at deceiving. And that if ever one day you told me your real name I was to he especially suspicious." She went back to hugging her knees, staring out through the branches of the two or three pine trees that stood between us and the clifftop. The sea came through them, deep azure merging into the sky's deep azure. The sun-wind shook the branches, flowed round us like a current of warm water. She looked lost in doubts; in anxiety; gave me yet another quick probing look. "Do you trust us at all?" "'And everywhere that Mary went, the lamb was sure to go.'" It was the wrong answer. She did not smile and killed the equivocal smile in my own eyes. "I want a friend. Not a tame lamb." "I'm ready to be bought. By the right evidence." She searched my eyes, hunting down the other, physical, price I implied. Then looked away. "You realise that Maurice's aim is to destroy reality? To make trust between us impossible?" "I'm more interested in your aim." "Questions?" "Questions." She turned away again, then changed her mind and lay on her side, on her elbow, facing me; a small smile. "Go on. Anything." "You're an actress?" She shrugged, self-deprecating. "At Cambridge." "What did you read?" "Classics. June did languages." "When did you come down?" "Two years ago." "You've known Maurice how long?" She opened her mouth, then changed her mind, and reached behind her for the bag, which she put between us. "I've brought all I could. Come a little closer. I'm so scared they'll see what I'm doing." I looked round, but we were in a position where they--whoever "they" were--would have had to be very close to see more than our heads. But I went nearer, shielding what she brought out of the bag. The first thing was the book. It was small, half bound in black leather, with green marbled paper sides; rubbed and worn. I looked at the title page; _Quintus Horatius Flaccus, Parisiis_. "It's a Didot Ain� "Who's he?" I saw the date i8oo. "A famous French printer." She turned me back to the flyleaf. On it was, in very neat writing, an inscription: _From the 'idiots' of IVB to their lovely teacher, Miss Julie Holmes. Summer 1952_. Underneath were fifteen or so signatures: _Penny O'Brien, Susan Smith, Susan Mowbray, Jane Willings, Lea Gluckstein, Jean Ann Moffat_... I looked up at her. "First of all explain how you were teaching last summer in England and--remember?--coping with Mitford here." "I wasn't here last summer. That's the script." She ignored my unspoken question. "Please look at these first." Six or seven envelopes. Three were addressed to: _Miss Julie and Miss June Holmes, do Maurice Conchis, Esquire, Bourani, Phraxos, Greece_. They had English stamps and recent postmarks, all from Dorset. "Read one." I took out a letter from the top envelope. It was on headed paper. ANSTY COTTAGE, CERNE ABBAS, DORSET. It began in a rapid scrawl: _Darlings, I've been frantically busy with all the doodah for the Show, on top of that Mr. Arnold's been in and he wants to do the painting as soon as possible. Also guess who--Roger rang up, he's at Bovington now, and asked himself over for the weekend. He was so disappointed you were both abroad--hadn't heard. I think he's much nicer--not nearly so pompous. And a captain!! I didn't know what on earth to do with him so I asked the Drayton girl and her brother round for supper and I think it went off rather well. Billy is getting so fat, old Tom says it's all the grass, so I asked the D. girl if she'd like to give him a ride or two, I knew you wouldn't mind_... I turned to the end. The letter was signed Mummy. I looked up and she pulled a face. "Sorry." She handed me three other letters. One was evidently from a former fellow teacher--news about people, school activities. Another from a friend who signed herself _Claire_. One from a bank in London, to June, advising her that "a remittance of �ioo had been received" on May 31st. "Our salary." It was my turn to be surprised. "He pays you this every month?" "Each of us." "Good God." I looked at the letter from the bank again and memorised the address: