A Woman Involved. John Davis Gordon
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‘I went to one of the best psychiatrists in New York. I said to him: I only want to ask you one question: “What does it mean when you keep dreaming repeatedly about one man?” And he said to me: “Tell me about him?”‘ She shot him a laughing glance. ‘So I told him. And he said: “Well, clear as day, you’re in love with this paragon of virtue. Describe these dreams,” he said. So I did. And do you know what he said?’
‘What?’ He was grinning.
‘He said: Correction: You don’t love this man – you’re obsessed by him!’ She flung her arms wide: ‘Obsessed!’
And Morgan laughed and made to grab her and she skipped aside: ‘And I said, “So what the hell does one do about such an obsession, Doctor?”’ She was walking backwards in front of him: ‘He said: “It depends on how you look at it, Mrs Hapsburg … To sensible people it is just a romantic memory which they get into perspective … ”’
And he tried to grab her again. ‘But to other lucky people?’
‘“To other unlucky people – it seems better than real life! Because it is unspoilt by life. But they’re unlucky because dreams never come true and if they’re not careful it can screw up their lives” –’
‘But ours are going to come true!’
She walked backwards in front of him, the laughter suddenly gone out of her eyes.
‘No, darling Jack. Please believe me. But, yes, we are lucky, because we can cherish our dreams – they will stay with us forever …’
And he wanted to laugh and holler, ‘Bullshit, Anna Valentine! …’
She shook her head firmly as she paced beside him.
‘Please don’t ask me that. I want to talk about you.’
He said, ‘I have a right to know.’
‘Do you? For better or worse, Jack. That’s what the preacher-man said.’
He knew it was nonsense. ‘You also made a vow to me.’
‘Yes, I did. And I’m truly sorry.’
‘Because you still love me,’ he said.
She looked at the horizon, her hands clasped behind her back. ‘You are entitled only to know what happened five years ago.’
This was very important information but he cared about Now, not five years ago. She breathed deep and said:
‘I was a coward …’ She paced, formulating it. ‘You were so clever. So well-read, and … learned. And so damn … funny. You had done so much with your life. And we had such an intense, crazy time together. It seemed as if I had packed everything I had ever learned, and felt, into those three glorious months. All my worldly experience had been paraded and brought into service. And so when you were gone back to sea, and all the chips were down, and the pressure was mounting … I became afraid that when you came back you’d find that you’d burnt me out. That I had nothing new to offer you – that I wasn’t the soulmate you’d thought I was … And then you wouldn’t love me any more.’
Morgan was truly amazed. And he did not believe her. She was one of the strongest-willed persons he had known. And she had spoken as if rehearsed. And as for him being more learned than her – they had had countless discussions about everything under the sun.
‘Bullshit, Anna.’
She said resolutely: ‘And Max didn’t demand anything like that from me, you see. And I had known him for years – I was safe with Max. He’s very clever but he was no intellectual.’
He did not believe for one moment that she would have married Max or anybody for those reasons. Something else had happened. ‘Nor was I an intellectual.’
She insisted, ‘You were. Master of Science. Only twenty-nine years old and already second-in-command of one of Her Majesty’s submarines! Oh, that was a pretty tough act for poor Max to follow.’ She half-laughed. ‘And when I wrote and told him I was in love with you, he had the nerve to write back and say that it would not last because submariners are notoriously dull people.’
He knew she was trying to get away from the question. ‘Well, maybe he was right.’
‘Dull? God, anything but dull! You were the funniest man alive! You made me laugh! And all that derring-do submarine stuff?’ She smiled, and her eyes smarted a moment. ‘Even Dad slapped Max down on that one. Dad didn’t want me to marry you, either, but he said to Max: “I’ll have you know that every submariner is an extremely likeable and absolutely first-class fella! He has to be – you can’t afford to have a dislikeable man on a dangerous job like that!”’
He laughed. He knew that she had not told him the truth, that something else had happened to stop her marrying him, but right now he did not care. He was happy.
She sat on the rocks, hugging her knees, her smoky-blue eyes feasting on him. He said:
‘That was the first thing you ever asked me. Between limbo dances and morbid interest in my soul. You see, all your crew are experts at their different jobs. And you rely on them completely, and you do your own job. It’s a matter of complete mutual trust.’
She asked: ‘Are you still a Christian, Jack?’
He smiled. ‘Of sorts. Thanks to you and Saint Thomas. In that order.’
She smiled. ‘But a Catholic?’
‘Once a Catholic, always a Catholic, you can’t expect too much of us. I still live in fear secretly. It’s the only way I know how.’
‘Do you pray?’
‘I have a crack at it once a day.’ He added: ‘I don’t think I sound very convincing.’
She grinned. ‘But why do you live in secret fear?’
‘The Jesuits say, Give me a child till age seven, and you’ve got him for life.’
‘But you weren’t brought up by Jesuits.’
‘My father was.’
She smiled and got back to her original question. ‘But now that you’re the commander of the submarine, all that responsibility for this multi-multi-million-pound machine. So huge, in that dark, hostile environment – sailing blind … How do you feel?’
He said: ‘I still rely completely on my crew. And our equipment is so very sophisticated. I know exactly where we are. I know the depth to the ocean bed, my charts and radar tell me what obstacles lie ahead, the contours of the sea bed, even if there’s a shoal of fish. Our nuclear fuel and oxygen will keep us going for months. And it’s always calm down there, even if there’re mountainous waves on the surface. It’s