Hugh turned away again with a gesture of irritation. He should not have let this conversation happen. It was totally unfair, and his own better judgement seemed to be deserting him to a degree which made him unfit to think about his own affairs, let alone anyone else's. He felt he had had his moment of irresponsibility and should now be left alone.
However, some urge which might have been as simple as curiosity made him say, 'You mean leave Ann — for Lindsay?
'Yes, said Randall slowly, still with the air of one choosing his words or giving vital instructions. 'Leave Ann completely and take Lindsay away, take her right away.
Something in the insistence struck Hugh and made him think; and there came to him a picture of the situation which he had already had in miniature, and which he had occasionally, as it were, popped out of his pocket to glance at guiltily. But now the picture presented itself to him blown up, huge, authoritative; and with its vast and as yet uncIarified implications it frightened him. If Randall abducted Lindsay, what would be left behind? A sad lonely defenceless Emma.
Hugh shook himself. He must close down this conversation. He felt a sort of panic, but managed to say coldly enough, 'Look, Randall, this is nothing to do with me. You really can't expect me to make comments or to encourage you. And now I think you'd better go.
Randall drew his legs towards him, curled gleaming-eyed in the comer of the sofa. He seemed powerful now, having got his foot through the door of his father's confidence. He said softly, 'So you think I should stay in the cage?
'I don't think anything about it one way or the other! said Hugh, flaring with anger. 'If the question is: ought you to leave Ann? The answer is no, and you know that as well as I do!
The rain drummed in the ensuing silence and the two men stared at each other.
Hugh was immensely affected' by the way Randall had put it.
Something in those words spoke so directly to him that he was immediately defensively angry as at a monstrously unfair appeal; though he could not at the moment see what had happened. Perhaps he was a little drunk too.
Randall said, holding his eyes, and with deliberation, 'But that is not the question.
Hugh's mind, working slowly, formulated what it had obscurely sensed a moment ago. It suddenly seemed to him intolerable that Randall should imagine that his father grudged him the freedom which he himself had not had the courage to take: that Randall should see him as enviously blocking the road, as unwilling to let his son have what he himself had failed to get, and which he had confessed to regretting. With what cleverness, it now occurred to him, had not Randall precisely made him confess it at the start of the conversation! The sense grew upon him of being interrogated, manipulated, and he felt both anger and curiosity, but with it still an overwhelming desire not to appear to Randall as an envious old man.
The lightning flickered again, and the thunder, still not very near.
The rain came down in thicker sheets, making the night darker. The reddish light was gone from the sky. Hugh said quietly, and giving conscious gaze for gaze, 'You know perfectly well that I don't necessarily think you should stay in the cage, as you put it. But why put it like that?
After a moment he turned away and went to the picture as to a shrine for refreshment. Randall's mention of a cage made him recall what he had only lately been thinking about his own astonishing sense of his freedom: and that in his heart which had replied so readily and so rashly to Randall's question about Emma now told him too that he wanted Randall to go. So far from grudging it to him, he wanted to see his son kick over the traces. And he wanted this, not for any possible advantage to himself: that existed too, but that was quite another matter. He desired, for its own sake, Randall's will to take what he wanted and damn the consequences. These were mad thoughts, but they rose with authority, and he knew that, quietly, they had been with him a long time.
'So you think I should go, then? said Randall behind him.
Hugh said impatiently, 'No, of course not. I don't think that either. Why do you press me for advice? You know perfectly well I can't give it. I can't make up your mind for you I'. He marched to the other end of the room. The lightning bashed more pale upon the dome, unnaturally close and clear, and lit up empty streets in other parts of London. It was very late. The rain seemed to, be abating a little. Hugh pulled the window up and let in a rush of warm fragrant air. He had no wish now to end the. conversation. With a curiosity which he felt to be depraved he wanted to hear what more his clever wicked son had to say.
'Can't you? said Randall. As Hugh turned again, he swung his legs off the sofa and reached out to help himself to more brandy. He sat a moment with head bowed looking into his glass. Then he said, 'I can't go, anyway. He drank some of the brandy and looked up at his father. 'Can I?
'What stops you?
'Money. Lack of'
Hugh wondered if he had seen this coming. No, he had not seen it coming. He was obtuse. He shrugged his shoulders and avoided Randall's eye. He felt that he was running helplessly to and fro before his son. He said, 'I can't discuss your plans, Randall.
'Ah, but you come into them, said Randall. He was rotating the brandy in his glass and looking up under his eyebrows with the cautious taut look of one who thinks that a quiet adversary may suddenly spring upon him.
Hugh replenished his own glass. He said, 'You want a loan? Randall was now completely still and the silence in the room told that the rain had stopped. He said, 'No, I don't want a loan, Father. I want a great deal of money, not on loan. Nothing else will do.
Hugh now looked at him steadily. He had rarely felt more strongly his connexion with his son, his identification, almost, with his son. And with that he felt for Randall at that moment something akin to admiration. Yet he felt too, with all his more customary responses, profoundly shocked. The conflict of feelings brought about a strange moment of coolness. He said, 'I'm sorry. I haven't got a great deal of money, Randall and if I had I doubt if I should let you have it. You must have some sense of moderation.
'It's not a moment for moderation, said Randall. He rose and put his glass on the mantelpiece.
'It can hardly be a moment for anything else, since I haven't got the money that you say you need.
'No. But you have — assets.
'Assets?
With a brief movement as of one perfunctorily acknowledging an altar, Randall turned for a moment towards the Tintoretto.
'Good God! said Hugh.
The silence continued, and Randall, suddenly relaxing as after great exertion, went to sit on the Ann of the sofa and rob his hand over his nose and back through his hair.
Hugh was made entirely speechless not only by the enormity of the proposal but by its unexpectedness. He saw now that this was the climax of the evening, this was the thing towards which Randall's carefully ordered conversation had been leading. He saw too that he was confronted by something so wide in its implications that he couldn't hope to take it in immediately. The twisted admiration of Randall which he had felt a moment since turned into a sort of gaping alarm as at one who has produced something monstrous and very large. But his main feeling was one of furious rejection, and he expressed it at once. 'No. Never, Randall, never. There's no good reason why I should do anything for you at all, least of all that! Don't delude yourself'
'I don't see the objections, said Randall, now speaking in a tired casual sort of way, not looking at Hugh, and still ruffling his hair. He had shot his bolt and was now sitting back helplessly to take the consequences.