"Why should you be sorry that I"m getting married?"
"I didn"t mean that. I meant... Of course I"m not sorry if he"s worthy of you. You are a very pretty girl, Elizabeth."
"I"m not up for sale, Father. I suppose in your day good legs put up the market price."
"What does he do?"
"He"s in an advertising agency. He handles the Jameson"s Baby Powder account."
"Is that a good thing?"
"It"s very good. They are spending a huge amount trying to push Johnson"s Baby Powder into second place. Colin"s arranged wonderful television spots. He even wrote a theme song himself."
"You like him a lot? You"re quite sure...?"
Davis had ordered a second whisky. He was looking at the menu-but he must have read it many times already.
"We are both quite sure, Father. After all, we"ve been living together for the past year."
"I"m sorry," Daintry said again it was turning into an evening of apologies.
"I never knew. I suppose your mother did?"
"She guessed, naturally."
"She sees more of you than I do."
He felt like a man who was departing into a long exile and who looks hack from the deck of a ship at the faint coastline of his country as it sinks below the horizon.
"He wanted to come tonight and be introduced, but I told him this time I wanted to be alone with you."
"This time": it had the sound of a long goodbye; now he could see only the hare horizon, the land had gone.
"When are you getting married?"
"On Sat.u.r.day the twenty-first. At a registry office. We aren"t inviting anybody, except of course Mother. And a few of our friends. Colin has no parents."
Colin, he wondered, who"s Colin? But of course he was the man at Jameson"s.
"You"d be welcome-but I always have the feeling that you"re frightened of meeting Mother."
Davis had given up whatever hope he may have had. As he paid for the whiskies, he looked up from the bill and saw Daintry. It was as though two emigrants had come on deck for the same purpose, to look their last on their country, saw each other and wondered whether to speak. Davis turned and made for the door. Daintry looked after him with regret-but after all there was no need to get acquainted yet, they were sailing together on a long voyage.
Daintry put his gla.s.s sharply down and spilt some sherry. He felt a sudden irritation against Percival. The man had no evidence against Davis which would stand up in a court of law. He didn"t trust Percival. He remembered Percival at the shoot. Percival was never lonely, he laughed as easily as he talked, he knew about pictures, he was at ease with strangers. He had no daughter who was living with a stranger in a flat he had never seen-he didn"t even know where it was.
"We thought afterwards we"d have some drinks and sandwiches at a hotel or perhaps at Mother"s flat. Mother has to get back to Brighton afterwards. But if you"d like to come."
"I don"t think I can. I"m going away that week-end," he lied.
"You do make engagements a long time ahead."
"I have to." He lied again miserably, "There are so many of them. I"m a busy man, Elizabeth. If I"d known..."
"I thought I"d give you a surprise."
"We ought to order, oughtn"t we? You"ll take the roast beef, not the saddle of mutton?"
"Roast beef for me."
"Are you having a honeymoon?"
"Oh, we"ll just stay at home for the week-end. Perhaps when the spring comes... At the moment Colin"s so busy with Jameson"s Baby Powder."
"We ought to celebrate," Daintry said. "A bottle of champagne?" He didn"t like champagne, but a man must do his duty.
"I"d really rather just have a gla.s.s of red wine."
"There"s a wedding present to think about."
"A cheque would be best-and easier for you. You don"t want to go shopping. Mother"s giving us a lovely carpet."
"I haven"t got my cheque book on me. I"ll send the cheque round on Monday."
After dinner they said goodbye in Panton Street-he offered to take her home in a taxi, but she said she preferred to walk. He had no idea where the flat was that she shared. Her private life was as closely guarded as his own, but in his case there had never been anything much to guard. It was not often that he enjoyed their meals together because there was so little for them to talk about, but now, when he realised that they would never again be alone, he felt a sense of abandonment. He said, "Perhaps I could put off that week-end."
"Colin would be glad to meet you, Father."
"Could I perhaps bring a friend with me?"
"Of course. Anyone. Who will you bring?"
"I"m not sure. Perhaps someone from the office."
"That would be fine. But you know you really needn"t he scared. Mother likes you." He watched as she made her way east in the direction of Leicester Square-and after?-he had no idea-before he turned west for St James"s Street.
Chapter II.
I.
The Indian summer had returned for a day, and Castle agreed to a picnic-Sam was growing restive after the long quarantine and Sarah had a fanciful notion that any lingering last germ would be whisked away among the beech woods with the leaves of autumn. She had prepared a thermos of hot onion soup, half a cold chicken to be dismembered in the fingers, some rock buns, a mutton bone for Buller, and a second thermos of coffee. Castle added his flask of whisky. There were two blankets to sit on, and even Sam had consented to take an overcoat in case the wind rose.
"It"s crazy to have a picnic in October," Castle said with pleasure at the rashness of it. The picnic offered escape from office caution, a prudent tongue, foresight. But then, of course, the telephone rang, clanging away like a police alarm while they packed the bags on their bicycles.
Sarah said, "It"s those men with masks again. They"ll spoil our picnic. I"ll be wondering all the time what"s happening at home."
Castle replied gloomily (he had his hand over the receiver), "No, no, don"t worry, it"s only Davis."
"What does he want?"
"He"s at Boxmoor with his car. It was such a fine day he thought he"d look me up."
"Oh, d.a.m.n Davis. Just when everything"s prepared. There"s no other food in the house. Except our supper. And there"s not enough of that for four."
"You go off alone if you like with Sam. I"ll lunch at the Swan with Davis."
"A picnic wouldn"t be any fun," Sarah said, "without you."
Sam said, "Is it Mr Davis? I want Mr Davis. We can play hide-and-seek. We aren"t enough without Mr Davis."
Castle said, "We could take Davis with us, I suppose."
"Half a chicken among four...?"
"There are enough rock buns already for a regiment."
"He won"t enjoy a picnic in October unless he"s crazy too."
But Davis proved as crazy as the rest of them. He said that he loved picnics even on a hot summer"s day when there were wasps and flies, but he much preferred the autumn. As there was no room in his Jaguar he met them at a chosen rendezvous on the Common, and at lunch he won the wishbone of the half chicken with an agile turn of the wrist. Then he introduced a new game. The others had to guess his wish by asking questions, and only if they failed to guess could he expect his wish to he granted. Sarah guessed it with a flash of intuition. He had wished that one day he would become "top of the pops ".
"Oh well, I had little hope of my wish coming true anyway. I can"t write a note."
By the time the last rock buns had been eaten the afternoon sun was low above the gorse bushes and the wind was rising. Copper leaves floated down to lie on last year"s mast. "Hide-and-seek," Davis suggested, and Castle saw how Sam gazed at Davis with the eves of a hero-worshipper.
They drew lots to decide which of them should hide first, and Davis won. He went loping away among the trees huddled deep in his camel-hair overcoat, looking like a strayed bear from a zoo. After counting sixty the rest set off in pursuit, Sam towards the edge of the Common, Sarah towards Ashridge, Castle into the woods where he had last seen Davis go. Buller followed him, probably in hope of a cat. A low whistle guided Castle to where Davis hid in a hollow surrounded by bracken.
"It"s b.l.o.o.d.y cold hiding," Davis said, "in the shade."
"You suggested the game yourself. We were all ready to go home.
"Down, Buller. Down, d.a.m.n you."
"I know, but I could see how much the little b.a.s.t.a.r.d wanted it."
"You seem to know children better than I do. I"d better shout to them. We"ll catch our death..."
"No, don"t do that yet. I was hoping you"d come by. I want a word with you alone. Something important."
"Can"t it wait till tomorrow at the office?"
"No, you"ve made me suspicious of the office. Castle, I really think I"m being followed."
"I told you I thought your phone was tapped."
"I didn"t believe you. But since that night... On Thursday I took Cynthia out to Scott"s. There was a man in the lift as we went down. And later he was in Scott"s too drinking Black Velvet. And then today, driving down to Berkhamsted-I noticed a car behind me at Marble Arch-only by chance because for a moment I thought I knew the man-I didn"t, but I saw him again behind me at Boxmoor. In a black Mercedes."
"The same man as at Scott"s?"
"Of course not. They wouldn"t be as stupid as that. My Jaguar"s got a turn of speed and there was Sunday traffic on the road. I lost him before Berkhamsted."
"We"re not trusted, Davis, n.o.body is, but who cares if we"re innocent?"
"Oh yes, I know all that. Like an old theme song, isn"t it? Who cares? "I"m innocent. Who cares? If they take me unawares, I"ll say I only went, to buy some golden apples and some pears..." I might he top of the pops yet."
"Did you really lose him before Berkhamsted?"
"Yes. As far as I can tell. But what"s it all about, Castle? Is it just a routine check, like Daintry"s seemed to be? You"ve been in this b.l.o.o.d.y show longer than any of us. You ought to know."
"I told you that night with Percival. I think there must have been a leak of some kind, and they suspect a double agent. So they"re putting on a security check, and they don"t much mind if you notice it. They think you may lose your nerve, if you are guilty."
"Me a double agent? You don"t believe it, Castle?"
"No, of course not. You don"t have to worry. Just be patient. Let them finish their check and they won"t believe it either. I expect they"re checking me too and Watson."
In the distance Sarah was calling out, We give up. We give up." A thin voice came from further away, "Oh no, we don"t. Keep hiding, Mr Davis. Please, Mr Davis.
Buller barked and Davis sneezed. "Children are merciless," he said.
There was a rustle in the bracken around their hiding-place and Sam appeared. "Caught," he said, "and then he saw Castle. "Oh, but you cheated."
"No," Castle said, "I couldn"t call out. He held me up at the point of a gun."
"Where"s the gun?"
"Look in his breast pocket."
"There"s only a fountain-pen," Sam said.
"It"s a gas gun," Davis said, "disguised as a fountain-pen. You see this k.n.o.b. It squirts what looks like ink-only it"s not really ink, it"s nerve gas. James Bond was never allowed one like this it"s too secret. Put up your hands."
Sam put them up. "Are you a real spy?" he asked.
"I"m a double agent for Russia," Davis said, "and if you value your life, you must give me fifty yards start." He burst through the bracken and ran clumsily in his heavy overcoat through the beech woods. Sam pursued him up one slope, down another. Davis reached a bank above the Ashridge road where he had left his scarlet Jaguar. He pointed his fountain-pen at Sam and shouted a message as mutilated as one of Cynthia"s cables, "Picnic... love... Sarah," and then he was gone with a loud explosion from his exhaust.
"Ask him to come again," Sam said, "please ask him to come again."
"Of course. Why not? When the spring comes."
"The spring"s a long way off," Sam said. "I"ll be at school."
"There"ll always be week-ends," Castle replied but without conviction. He remembered too well how slowly time limps by in childhood. A car pa.s.sed them, heading towards London, a black car-perhaps it was a Mercedes, but Castle knew very little about cars.
"I like Mr Davis," Sam said.