In Pursuit of the English - Doris Lessing [31]
He examined me for some time, in silence. It was extraordinary how frankly he did this, as if the necessity to do so made him invisible to me; as if he scrutinized me from behind a barricade.
‘Mr MacNamara,’ I said. ‘You’re making a mistake about me. I really don’t have any money.’
This remark seemed to reassure him. ‘Ponsonby,’ he said, ‘Well, I’ll show you you can trust me.’ He reached his hands into his pockets. From one he brought out military medals, about a dozen of them. From another a packet of papers. Matching one to another on the table he showed me citation after citation for bravery, etc., to Alfred Ponsonby. Among them was the DSO.
‘I was in the Commandos,’ he said.
‘I’m not surprised.’
‘Yes, they were the best days of my life.’ He replaced the medals in one pocket and the papers in the other and said: ‘I keep fit, just in case. Ju-jitsu. There’s nothing like it.’
‘I think it’s time I got back.’
He examined me again. Then he leaned himself forward to me, the surface of his brown eyes glazed with solicitude. ‘I would really like to see you fixed up. I can see you are a little disappointed with me. Oh, don’t deny it. I could see, when I telephoned and my client wasn’t in. But I’ve a special interest in you.’ His gaze went blank while he searched for words. Then he smiled intimately into my eyes with a brown treacly pressure. ‘Now I want to put something to you. I can get that flat for you tonight — just like that!’ He snapped his fingers. ‘But I must put something down for the landlord. It would cost five pounds and it would be worth it.’
‘I must get back,’ I said and got up.
Without a change of tone, he said: ‘I’ll take you over tomorrow night.’ Consulted his watch. ‘Eight o’clock.’ And again, narrowing his eyes. ‘No, an appointment at eight. Eight-fifteen. I’ll make an appointment.’
‘Good.’
To get from the pub back to the house was five minutes walking. He faced towards the house. His face was twisted with conflict. ‘Know where we are?’
‘No.’
Smiling with cruelty, he walked me right around the bombed space, watching my face all the time. Anxiety crept into him. At the bottom of the street he hesitated and said: ‘Do you know what I’ve just done?’
‘Not an idea.’
Half from pleasure at having tricked me, and half from anxiety I might find out, he said: ‘I’ve taken you a long way round. You never noticed it. Got to keep your eyes open in this city. But you’re all right with me. You can trust me.’
‘I know I can.’ I said. We were at the front door.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said, tenderly.
I went inside and up the stairs. Rose appeared and said, ‘Are you all right, dear?’
‘I hope so.’
‘I hope so, too. I got ever so worried about you.’ She took my arm between her hands and gently tugged me into her room. ‘Listen,’ she said. ‘I feel real bad, what I’m doing, but you’re my friend now. I must tell you. Flo’s got all in a state about losing you – ’ She giggled, and adjusted her face. ‘Sorry, but it does make me laugh, when Flo sees the pennies slipping through her fingers. Well, because you went out with Bobby Brent, she thinks she’ll let you the room. But Bobby Brent wants it for his fancy woman. So now she’s all torn up, wondering who’ll pay the most.’
‘He will, I should think,’ I said.
‘You don’t know our Bobby.’
‘Is it true he was in the Commandos?’
‘Oh, yes. A real war hero and all. But listen! I’ll show you the room and you can see if you like it.’ She cautiously opened the door and listened. ‘No, Flo’s too busy quarrelling with Dan to snoop.’
‘Well, I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be daft. They’re in love. They’ve only been married three years, see? When people are in love they quarrel. Dan got real mad about Bobby. She makes him jealous on purpose, see? Then he gets mad and they quarrel and they make it up in bed. See?’
I laughed. She giggled. ‘Shh,’ she said. We crept into the passage outside her room, and we listened again. Downstairs a din of shouting voices and music. Rose opened a door, and switched a light on. It was a very large room, with two long windows. There