Doris Lessing

"I thought you'd be off."

Pat swiftly turned away. It was because she was crying.

"We've been together a long time...." Her voice went thick and inarticulate.

"Never mind," said Alice dolefully.

"I do mind. And I mind about leaving you, Alice."

The two women embraced, weeping.

"I'll be back," said Pat. "You were talking about a CCU Congress. I'll be back for that. And for all I know, I won't be able to stand breaking with Bert. I did try once before."

She went out, ru

The two men came back on Sunday night. Alice knew at once they had failed. Jasper had a limp look, and Bert was morose even before he read the letter Pat had left for him.

She made supper for Jasper, who at once went up to his sleeping bag on the top floor. Bert said he was tired, but she followed him, and found him standing alone in the room he had shared with Pat. She went in and, though he was not thinking of Ireland, said, "I want to ask some questions. Jasper's sometimes fu

"So am I," said Bert, but softened and, standing where he was, hands dangling down, said, "We didn't get anywhere."

"Yes, but why?"

She was thinking that rejection brought out the best in Bert. Without his easy affability, the constant gleam of his white teeth amid red lips and dark beard, he seemed sober and responsible.

He shook his head, said, "How do I know? We were simply told no."

She was not going to leave until he told her everything, and at last he did go on, while she listened carefully, to make a picture for herself that she could trust.

"Jack," in Dublin, had been to bars and meeting places, had made enquiries, had met this man and then that, reporting back to Bert and Jasper that things were going on as they should. Then Bert and Jasper - but not Jack, a fact that had to give her food for thought - met a certain comrade in a certain private house in a suburb. There they had been questioned for a long time, in a way that - Alice could see, watching Bert's face as he recited the tale-had not just impressed but sobered the two. Frightened them, judged Alice, pleased this had been so, for she did feel that Jasper was sometimes a bit too casual about things.

Towards the end of this encounter, or interview, a second man had come in, and sat without saying a word, listening. Bert said with a short laugh and a shake of the head, "He was a bit of a character, that one. Wouldn't like to get across him."

At last, the man who had done all the talking said that while he, speaking for the IRA, was grateful for the support offered, they - Bert and Jasper - must realise that the IRA did not operate like an ordinary political organisation, and recruitment was done very carefully, and to specific requirements.

Jasper had cut in to say that of course he understood this: "Everyone did."

Then the comrade had repeated, word for word, what he had just said. He went on to say that it was helpful to the Republican cause to have allies and supporters in the oppressing country itself, and that Jasper, Bert, "and your friends" could play a useful part, changing public opinion, providing information. They could be supplied, for instance, with pamphlets and leaflets.

Jasper had apparently become excited and expostulatory, and made a long speech about fascist imperialism. To this speech both men, the talking man and the silent one, listened without comment, and without expression.

Then the silent man simply walked out of the room, with a nod and a smile. The smile apparently had impressed Bert and Jasper. "He did smile, in the end," Bert repeated, with the ruefulness that was the note, or tone, of his account. You could even say that Bert was embarrassed. For him and for Jasper? For Jasper? Alice hoped it was not on account of Jasper, though, clearly, to make that emotional speech had not been too clever.

Alice would have liked to go on, but Bert said, "Look, I've had enough for today. This business with Pat..."

"I'm sorry," said Alice. "And I know she is."

"Thanks," he said, dryly, "oh, thanks!," and began stripping off his jersey, as though she were already gone.

Alice decided to sleep in the sitting room again, because to choose herself a room would be a final separation. Just as she was settling in, Jim appeared. He had spent the weekend jubilantly with friends. These were friends not seen for a long time, visited now because there was something to celebrate. She saw that already, after only three days, there was an alertness and competence coming into Jim; he had been dulled and slowed by unemployment. Well - of course! - everyone knew that, but to see the results so soon...

Delighted about Jim, apprehensive for Jasper, Alice lay for a long time awake in the silent room. On this side of the house the traffic from the main road could not be heard.

She knew that neither Jasper nor Bert would be up early, but made herself get up in time to join Jim for tea and cornflakes. She thought she was rather like a mother, making sure a child had eaten before going off to school, and did not scruple to say, "Are you sure you've had enough? There's no canteen there, you know. You'd better take some sandwiches." And he, like a son with an indulged mother, "Don't worry, Alice. I'm all right." Then in came Philip, and the question of the new water tank was discussed. Rather, a good second-hand one. Did Alice have any idea what a new one would cost? No, but she could guess! Philip would go this morning to his source for such things, talk it over; if one was available, did she want him to buy it, and if so, did she have the money? She empowered him to get the tank, the section of drainpipe, the guttering. Quickly in and out of the sitting room, she slid three hundred pounds from out of her sleeping bag, not wanting Philip to know how much was there - but only because she did not want anyone to know. A disconcerting, even shameful thought had taken possession. It was that when this final list of necessities had been bought, she should put some money into the post office. For herself. Money no one should know about. She should have, surely, a little put away? Yes, she would open a new post-office account, and not tell Jasper.

Philip and Jim were out. Roberta and Faye were asleep or at their women's place. Mary and Reggie had gone away for a long weekend, and would not be back until evening. Bert and Jasper slept, or were very silent, in their respective rooms. Alice sat on at the end of the table, in the quiet kitchen. The cat, absent for days, reappeared on the window sill, was let in, accepted cornflakes and milk, carefully licked up every little smear from the dish, miaowed, and went away again.

Alice was full of woe. This business of the IRA had been Jasper's impetus for months. Long before the dramatic exit from her mother's, it had been the IRA... the IRA... every day. She had not at first taken it seriously. But then had had to. Now all that had collapsed. Distributing pamphlets and leaflets was not going to satisfy Jasper. Nor, she was sure, Bert, whom she had seen yesterday for the first time as a potentially responsible comrade. Never once had it crossed Jasper's or Bert's mind that they might be refused. Would not be found good enough. The IRA had not taken Jasper and Bert seriously? Making herself examine this thought, slowly and properly turning it around in her mind, re-creating the scene she could see so vividly of Jasper and Bert with the two IRA, she had to admit that Jasper and Bert had made a bad impression. Well, it could happen! It did happen, with Jasper, all the time.

Another possibility was that they, Jasper and Bert and the others - herself included - would be tested. Yes, that could be it. An eye would be kept on them, without their knowing. (Comrade Andrew here appeared powerfully before Alice, and she smiled at the image.) But certainly Jasper and Bert had not thought this; and the Irish comrades had not given them anything specific to do.