Under The Net - Iris Murdoch [19]
hair I ranged about the room, examining everything. I suddenly felt quite at ease now. I knew that I should see Anna again. 'You must explain about this place,' I said. 'Who acts here?' 'Mainly amateurs,' said Anna. 'Some of my friends. But it's a quite special technique.' 'Yes, I could see that,' I said. Anna turned on me. 'So you went into the theatre?' 'Yes, just for an instant. Did it matter? It looked very impressive,' I said. 'Is it something Indian?' 'There are connexions with India,' said Anna, 'but it's really something on its own.' I could see she was thinking of something else. 'Well, that's a prop you'll hardly need much!' I said, pointing to the thundersheet. A thundersheet, in case you don't know, is a thin piece of metal, a couple of yards square, which when shaken produces a mysterious rumbling noise not unlike thunder. I went up to it. 'Don't touch it!' said Anna. 'Yes, we're going to sell that.' 'Anna, did you mean it about singing?' I asked. 'Yes,' said Anna, 'it's corrupt,' she said. I had again the curious feeling of seeing someone in the grip of a theory. 'Only very simple things can be said without falsehood,' she added. 'What I saw in that theatre wasn't simple,' I told her. Anna spread her hands. 'What did you want me for?' she asked. This question brought me back to reality. I said cautiously, 'I wanted to see you. You know that. But I've also got a problem about somewhere to live. Perhaps you can advise me. I suppose I couldn't live here,' I asked, 'in an attic or something?' Anna shivered. 'No,' she said, 'that would be impossible.' We looked at each other, both thinking fast. 'When shall I see you again?' I asked. Anna's face was rigid and withdrawn. 'Jake,' she said, 'you must leave me alone for a while. I have a lot of things to think about.' 'So have I,' I said. 'We might think together.' She smiled a pale smile. 'If I need you I'll call for you,' she said. 'And I may need you.' 'I hope you will,' I said, and I wrote Dave's address for her on a piece of paper. 'I give you notice that if a long time passes without my being needed I shall appear whether I'm needed or not.' Anna was looking at her watch again. 'May I write to you?' I asked. In my experience women who have any interest at all in keeping a hand on you will rarely refuse this. It binds without compromising. Anna, who knew my thoughts on this topic, as on most others, eyed me, and we both smiled. 'I don't mind,' she said. 'A letter to the theatre finds me.' She was picking up her things now and frowning slightly. It occurred to me that the problem that preoccupied her was how to get me out of the building without being seen. 'I haven't anywhere to sleep tonight,' I told her: my first lie. 'May I stay here?' Anna eyed me again, wondering how much I knew about what she was thinking. She considered it. 'All right,' she said. 'Stay here--and don't come down with me now. Only you must promise not to prowl around and to leave the place early tomorrow.' I promised. 'Suggest where I can live, Anna,' I said. I thought that now that she'd come as far as letting me stay the night she might relent in the matter of an attic. Anna set her desk in order and locked the drawers. 'Look,' she said. 'You might try Sadie. She's going to the States and she wants a caretaker to look after her flat. You might just do.' She scribbled down an address. I took it with reserve. 'Are you friends with Sadie now?' I asked. Anna laughed a bit impatiently. 'She's my sister. We put up with each other. You could go and see her anyway--this idea might just work.' And she looked at me doubtfully. 'Well, let's meet tomorrow and discuss it some more,' I suggested. This decided Anna. 'No,' she said. 'You go and see Sadie--and don't come back here unless I summon you.' She turned to go. I took her hand, and then embraced her with immense tenderness. She returned the embrace. We parted. I heard no sound after the door closed, and for some time I stood as one enchanted in the middle of the room. During my talk with Anna it had become quite dark in the room, but outside it