saw him.’
‘You saw him,’ said Vin. ‘And you did not kill him?’
‘Or let us kill him,’ said Tal.
There was a difficult pause. Grigg gazed into their tear-stained faces.
‘I saw him on top of the tower. I could not get to him in time across the ruins in the darkness. When I reached the tower, he was gone. I saw and heard his boat quite a long way off.’
‘Why did you not tell us?’ asked Lek. ‘Why did you not trust us?’
To such a question conventional answers abound, but Grigg could not bring one of them to his lips. Guilt in him was reinforced by fear. He felt that he might be made to suffer, and he felt that he deserved the suffering.
‘What does it mean,’ he asked, ‘when you say the rock is dead?’
A tremor passed through them and Vin began once more to weep.
‘The rock was a living rock,’ said Lek softly. ‘The rock gave us wine and water. The rock was the other god, the female god, so, while the rock was alive, you could not be told. Now they have killed the rock with a machine, so that it does not matter what is said.’ As Lek spoke, Tal burst into tears and moans.
‘Is there nothing I can do?’
‘There is nothing that anyone in the world can do.
‘This was the last living rock, and now the last living rock is dead. There is nothing but to mourn, to forgive, and to go.’
‘I do not expect to be forgiven,’ said Grigg. ‘I deserve to die.’ The words came out quite naturally; which was something he would never before have thought possible.
Lek stepped forward, took his hands, and kissed them. Then Vin and Tal did the same, leaving their tears on his mouth.
‘Let me at least mourn with you.’
Lek smiled sadly, and indeed he found that the power to mourn, the power to mourn anything, was not in him.
They walked in line down the causeway, among the flowers, the birds, and the lizards; with Grigg bringing up the rear. The green and grey of the sea had absorbed nearly all the red, though there was still a faint, shimmering glow beneath the surface, melting away as Grigg watched. They took nothing.
The women spread the big, blue sail, and expertly steered the ship out of the basin into the hot morning. Grigg stood at the stern, looking back along the spreading plume of her wake.
Then Lek was standing beside him.
‘How long can you swim?’
Grigg looked into her eyes.
‘Possibly for half an hour,’ he said. ‘At least, in smooth, warm water.’
So when they neared a spit of land, he went overside in the summer clothes he had worn when he had originally cast off in his borrowed motor-boat. It was his initiation into the last of the four elements. He went without touching any of the women, and in the event, he was immersed for not much more than ten minutes before fetching up, dripping and bearded, on a pebbly strand. Even so, it was enough for the ship to have sailed almost to the horizon, so skilfully was she navigated.
THE TRAINS
On the moors, as early as this, the air no longer clung about her, impeding her movements, absorbing her energies. Now a warm breeze seemed to lift her up and bear her on: the absorption process was reversed; her bloodstream drew impulsion from the zephyrs. Her thoughts raced from her in all directions, unproductive but joyful. She remembered the railway posters. Was this ozone?
Not that she had at all disliked the big industrial city they had just left; unlike Mimi, who had loathed it. Mimi had wanted their walking tour to be each day from one Youth Hostel to another; but that was the one proposal Margaret had successfully resisted. Their itinerary lay in the Pennines, and Margaret had urged the case for sleeping in farm-houses and, on occasion, in conventional hotels. Mimi had suggested that the former were undependable and the latter both dreary and expensive; but suddenly her advocacy of Youth Hostels had filled her with shame, and she had capitulated. ‘But hotels look down on hikers,’ she had added.
‘You saw him,’ said Vin. ‘And you did not kill him?’
‘Or let us kill him,’ said Tal.
There was a difficult pause. Grigg gazed into their tear-stained faces.
‘I saw him on top of the tower. I could not get to him in time across the ruins in the darkness. When I reached the tower, he was gone. I saw and heard his boat quite a long way off.’
‘Why did you not tell us?’ asked Lek. ‘Why did you not trust us?’
To such a question conventional answers abound, but Grigg could not bring one of them to his lips. Guilt in him was reinforced by fear. He felt that he might be made to suffer, and he felt that he deserved the suffering.
‘What does it mean,’ he asked, ‘when you say the rock is dead?’
A tremor passed through them and Vin began once more to weep.
‘The rock was a living rock,’ said Lek softly. ‘The rock gave us wine and water. The rock was the other god, the female god, so, while the rock was alive, you could not be told. Now they have killed the rock with a machine, so that it does not matter what is said.’ As Lek spoke, Tal burst into tears and moans.
‘Is there nothing I can do?’
‘There is nothing that anyone in the world can do.
‘This was the last living rock, and now the last living rock is dead. There is nothing but to mourn, to forgive, and to go.’
‘I do not expect to be forgiven,’ said Grigg. ‘I deserve to die.’ The words came out quite naturally; which was something he would never before have thought possible.
Lek stepped forward, took his hands, and kissed them. Then Vin and Tal did the same, leaving their tears on his mouth.
‘Let me at least mourn with you.’
Lek smiled sadly, and indeed he found that the power to mourn, the power to mourn anything, was not in him.
They walked in line down the causeway, among the flowers, the birds, and the lizards; with Grigg bringing up the rear. The green and grey of the sea had absorbed nearly all the red, though there was still a faint, shimmering glow beneath the surface, melting away as Grigg watched. They took nothing.
The women spread the big, blue sail, and expertly steered the ship out of the basin into the hot morning. Grigg stood at the stern, looking back along the spreading plume of her wake.
Then Lek was standing beside him.
‘How long can you swim?’
Grigg looked into her eyes.
‘Possibly for half an hour,’ he said. ‘At least, in smooth, warm water.’
So when they neared a spit of land, he went overside in the summer clothes he had worn when he had originally cast off in his borrowed motor-boat. It was his initiation into the last of the four elements. He went without touching any of the women, and in the event, he was immersed for not much more than ten minutes before fetching up, dripping and bearded, on a pebbly strand. Even so, it was enough for the ship to have sailed almost to the horizon, so skilfully was she navigated.
THE TRAINS
On the moors, as early as this, the air no longer clung about her, impeding her movements, absorbing her energies. Now a warm breeze seemed to lift her up and bear her on: the absorption process was reversed; her bloodstream drew impulsion from the zephyrs. Her thoughts raced from her in all directions, unproductive but joyful. She remembered the railway posters. Was this ozone?
Not that she had at all disliked the big industrial city they had just left; unlike Mimi, who had loathed it. Mimi had wanted their walking tour to be each day from one Youth Hostel to another; but that was the one proposal Margaret had successfully resisted. Their itinerary lay in the Pennines, and Margaret had urged the case for sleeping in farm-houses and, on occasion, in conventional hotels. Mimi had suggested that the former were undependable and the latter both dreary and expensive; but suddenly her advocacy of Youth Hostels had filled her with shame, and she had capitulated. ‘But hotels look down on hikers,’ she had added.
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