Hearing Secret Harmonies - Anthony Powell [45]
Her bewilderment was understandable.
‘Are the girls his daughters?’
‘No – he’s never had any children.’
‘Who are they then? They look rather sweet. Are they twins? I love their wearing dirty old jeans at this party.’
‘They’re the twin daughters of J. G. Quiggin, the publisher, and his novelist wife, Ada Leintwardine. Their parents are sitting over there at the table opposite. J. G. Quiggin’s the bald man, helping himself to vegetables, his wife the lady with her hair piled up rather high.’
‘I believe I’ve read something by Ada Leintwardine – The Bitch – The Bitches – something like that. I know bitches came into the title.’
‘The Bitch Pack meets on Wednesday.’
‘That’s it. I don’t remember much about it. Are the girls with Lord Widmerpool, or are they just joining their parents?’
‘They’re with him.’
‘Are they his girlfriends?’
The party was evidently coming up to expectations.
‘He’s chancellor of their university. They threw paint over him last summer. I don’t know how close the relationship is apart from that.’
‘Those two little things threw paint over him?’
‘Yes.’
‘Didn’t he mind?’
‘Apparently not.’
‘And now they’re all friends?’
‘That’s what it looks like.’
‘What do you think about the Permissive Society?’
Widmerpool had entered the dining-room with the air of Stonewall Jackson riding into Frederick, that is to say glaring round, as if on the alert for flags representing the Wrong Side. Amanda and Belinda, apart from looking as ready for a square meal as the rebel horde itself seemed otherwise less sure of their ground, sullen, even rather hangdog. Their getup, admired by my neighbour, was identical. As companions for Widmerpool they belonged, broadly speaking, to the tradition of Gypsy Jones, so far as physical appearance was concerned. (A couple of lines had announced, not long before, the death of ‘Lady Craggs, widow of Sir Howard Craggs, suddenly in Czechoslovakia’; and I had made up my mind to ask Bagshaw, when next seen, if he knew anything of Gypsy’s end.) This Gypsy Jones resemblance gave a certain authenticity to the twins’ Widmerpool connexion. Their bearing that evening, on the other hand, had none of her aggressive self-confidence. It more approximated to that of Baby Wentworth (also deceased the previous year, at Montego Bay, having just married a relatively rich Greek), when, as his discontented mistress, Baby entered a room in the company of Sir Magnus Donners. In the case of the Quiggin twins, as Delavacquerie had observed, sexual relations with Widmerpool highly improbable, the girls may have been embarrassed by merely appearing in front of this sort of public as his guests. If so, why did they accompany him? Perhaps there was a small gratifying element of exhibitionism for them too; in that a meeting of true minds. Emily Brightman allowed a murmur to escape her.
‘I hope those young ladies are going to behave.’
Delavacquerie, already on the look out and seeing action required, had risen at once from his seat, when the Widmerpool party came in. Now he led them to the table indicated earlier, where three chairs remained unoccupied. The Donners-Brebner lady lost interest after they disappeared.
‘What do you think about Vietnam?’
Widmerpool and the twins once setded at their table, dinner passed off without further notable incident. Isobel reported later that Gwinnett had given no outward sign of noticing Widmerpool’s arrival. Possibly he had not even penetrated the disguise of the red sweater. That would have been reasonable enough. Alternatively, Gwinnett’s indifference could have been feigned, a line he chose to take, or, quite simply, expression of what he genuinely felt. Neither with Isobel, nor Matilda, did he display any of his occasional bouts of refusing to talk. He had, Isobel said, continued to abstain from alcohol.
‘What do you think of Enoch?’ asked the Donners-Brebner lady.
The time came for speeches. Delavacquerie said his