The Sea, The Sea - Iris Murdoch [150]
‘Oh, occasionally.’
‘If you don’t mind, I’d rather you didn’t tell them—’
‘About you? No, all right. As I say, I’m still very attached to your mother, very concerned about her. I’d like to help her. I don’t think she’s had much of a life.’
‘Well, a life is a life.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘One never knows. I daresay most lives are rotten. It’s only when one’s young one expects otherwise. She’s a bit of an imaginer, a fantasist, I suppose most women are. I must go now. Thanks for the grub.’
‘Oh I’m not going to let you go yet!’ I said, laughing. ‘I want to hear much more about you. You said your college closed down. But what would you like to do if you could choose?’
‘I used to think I’d like to work somehow with animals, I like animals.’
‘You don’t want to go back to electricity?’
‘Oh, that was just to get away from home, I got a grant and cleared out. No, I think if I could choose now I’d like to be an actor.’
Here was a stroke of luck. I could have shouted with joy. ‘An actor? Why then I can help you.’
He said, quickly flushing and with an aggressive precision, ‘I did not come here for that. I did not come for your help or to cadge or anything. I just came to ask. It wasn’t easy. You’re a celebrity. I thought about it for a long time. I hoped I’d solve it the other way, by finding the adoption people, but that didn’t work out. I don’t want your help or to push my way into your life. I wouldn’t want that even if you were my dad.’
He got up with an air of departure and I rose too. I wanted to throw my arms around him. ‘All right. But don’t go yet. Wouldn’t you like to have a swim?’
‘A swim? Oh—yes.’
‘Well, repose for a while, we can swim later, then have some tea—’
‘I’d like to swim now.’
We walked out onto the grass, ignoring Gilbert who rose respectfully as we passed through the kitchen, and then climbed the rocks towards the sea and came out on top of the little cliff. The tide had come in further and the water was now little more than ten feet below us. It was calmer than it had been in the morning and the semi-transparent water was a rich bottle-green in the bright sunlight.
‘Do you swim here? It looks marvellous. And one can dive. I hate not diving in.’
It was not a moment for dreary warnings. I was not going to admit to Titus any difficulties, any fear of the sea. ‘Yes, this is the best place.’
Titus was in a frenzy to get into the water. ‘I haven’t any swimming things.’
‘Oh, that doesn’t matter, no one can see us, I never wear anything. ’
Titus had already torn off the Leeds University tee shirt, revealing a lot of curly, red-golden hair. He was hopping, dragging off his trousers. Wanting suddenly to laugh with pleasure I began to undress with equal haste, but was still unbuttoning my shirt when the splash of his perfect dive blotted the glittering rock at my feet. In a moment I followed him, gasped at the coldness of the water, and seconds later began to feel warm and wildly elated.
My man Opian had come out bearing towels. He seemed to retire discreetly, but then I could see him peeping over a nearby rock, watching Titus perform. The boy, showing off of course, swam like a dolphin, graceful, playful, a white swift flashing curving form, giving glimpses of sudden hands and heels, active shoulders, pale buttocks, and a wet exuberant laughing face framed in clinging seaweed hair. His sea-darkened hair certainly changed his appearance, became dark and straight, adhering to his neck and shoulders, plastering his face, making him look like a girl. Aware of the effect, he charmingly tossed his head and drew the heavy sopping locks back out of his eyes and off his brow. He had the effortless crawl which I have never mastered, and in his marine joy kept diving vertically under, vanishing and reappearing somewhere else with a triumphant yell. Equal mad delight possessed me, and the sea was joyful and the taste of the salt water was the taste of hope and joy.