Books Do Furnish a Room - Anthony Powell [92]
Matters had begun with a telephone call from Bagshaw at about half-past nine one evening four or five weeks before. From the opening sentences it was clear he was drunk, less clear what he wanted. At first the object seemed no more than a chat about the sadness of life, perhaps a long one, but entailing merely a sympathetic hearing. That was too good to be true. It soon grew plain some request was going to be made. Even then, what the demand would be became only gradually apparent.
‘As the mag’s closing down, I thought a small celebration would be justified.’
‘So you said, Books. You’ve said that twice.’
‘Sorry, sorry. The fact is everything always comes at once. Look, Nicholas, I want your help. I’d already decided on this small celebration, when Trappy got in touch with me at the office. He rang up himself, which, as you know, he doesn’t often do. He’s in a lot of trouble. This girl, I mean.’
‘Pamela Widmerpool?’
It was as well to make sure.
‘That’s the one.’
The fact that Pamela might be Widmerpool’s wife had made, from his tone of voice, little or no serious impact on Bagshaw. He clearly thought of her as one, among many, of Trapnel’s girls … Tessa … Pat … Sally … Pauline … any of the Trapnel girls Bagshaw himself had known in the course of their acquaintance.
‘What’s happened?’
‘They’ve had some row about his novel – you know the one – what – can’t quite – ’
He made a tremendous effort, but I had to intervene.
‘Profiles in String?’
‘That’s the book. He’s tremendously pleased with it, but can’t decide about an ending. He wants one, she wants another.’
‘Trapnel’s writing the bloody book, isn’t he?’
Bagshaw was shocked at this disregard for authority conferred by a love attachment.
‘Trappy was upset. They had a row. Now he doesn’t want to go back and find she’s left. She may have done. He wants someone to go back with him. Soften the blow. I said I’d do that.’
‘Look, Books, why are you telling me all this?’
‘I was quite willing to do that. See him home, I mean. Trappy and I went to the pub to talk things over. You know how it is. I’m not quite sure I can get him back unaided.’
‘Do you mean he’s passed out?’
Bagshaw was insulted at the suggestion that such a fate might have overtaken any friend of his.
‘Not in the least. It’s just he’s in a bit of a state. Sort of nervous condition. That’s what I’m coming to. It’s really an awful lot to ask. Would it be too great an infliction for you to come along and lend a hand?’
‘Is it those pills?’
‘Might be.’
‘Where are you?’
‘Not far from Trappy’s flat. Once we’ve got him under way there’ll be nothing to it.’
Bagshaw named a pub I had never heard of, but, from the description of its locality, evidently not far from Trapnel’s base, assuming that unchanged from the night I had visited him. Since that night I had heard nothing of him or Pamela. She had not rung up to ask for further books to review. The L. O. Salvidge notice had never been sent in. Salvidge was aggrieved. Trapnel ceased altogether to be a contributor to Fission in its latter days.
‘Can he walk?’
‘Of course he can walk – at least I think so. It’s not walking I’m worried about, just I don’t know how he’ll behave when he gets into the open. After all, which of us does? You’d be a great support, Nicholas, if you could manage to come along. You always get on all right with Trappy, which is more than some do. I’m full of apologies for asking this.’
Although in most respects quite different, the situation seemed to present certain points