The Empire Trilogy - J. G. Farrell [672]
‘Oh, hiya. I hope you don’t mind me using the pool. I didn’t see anyone around. I thought you’d all gone.’ He was aware of an extraordinary stiffness of the muscles of his face as he spoke.
Joan had stopped at the edge of the pool and was gazing down at him with an odd expression on her face, restlessly fingering the turban she was wearing. She ignored his greeting, turned away, looked at her watch, turned back to him. At last she said: ‘You must help me get to the boat. I’ve been trying to ring people but everyone else has gone. There’s only Abdul here and he’s too old … They say there’s already a terrible traffic jam beginning … All the “boys” have cleared off, even the kitchen “boy”, and Father has gone off somewhere … and Monty, I don’t know where he is … Nigel had to go and settle some business at the last moment and I’m to meet him at the boat but unless you help me … You see, they’ve all gone! Father was supposed to be back ages ago to take me down to the docks himself, but even the syce isn’t there and it’s getting late … Jim, I can’t manage the luggage by myself, d’you see? Oh, go away! You’re completely useless!’ she screamed at Abdul suddenly for the elderly servant had followed her out on to the lawn and was rubbing his hands anxiously. Shocked, he fell back a few paces but continued to watch Joan.
Ehrendorf had turned over on to his back and was no longer looking at Joan but straight up at the sky which was cloudless though covered with a white haze. Floating with arms and legs outstretched he thought: ‘From above I must look as if I’m floating like a star-fish … or perhaps like a piece of flotsam.’ In spite of the water bubbling in his ears he could still hear Joan’s voice, though quite faintly now. He could tell from its pitch that she was panic-stricken. And this was the girl who had refused to help Matthew get Vera away! He said to himself, floating placidly: ‘I wouldn’t help her even if my life depended upon it!’
When he turned over to swim to the side he could no longer hear her voice, but she was still there, kneeling in tears of rage at the side of the pool, hammering at it with a piece of broken wood. As he gripped the rounded lip of the pool and heaved himself out of the water he glanced at her, musing on the wonder of a beautiful woman with a disagreeable personality. Such a woman, he mused, was like a lovely schooner with a mad captain. The custodian of this lovely body was a hardhearted bitch. It was altogether astonishing.
‘Of course I’ll help you,’ he said. ‘Just wait a moment while I get changed.
Mr Wu’s Buick, which had been under repair for some days, was now on the road again and heading towards Wilkie Street where The Human Condition was to be left at the vet’s en route to Collyer’s Quay. The dog sat on the front seat and stared out uneasily at the darkening streets. But when they reached Wilkie Street they found a large crowd of harrowed-looking people grasping dogs, cats and birds of all shapes and sizes already waiting. It seemed that these doomed creatures had sensed the anguish of their owners, too, for they were setting up the most distressing din of shrieking, whining, miaouwing, barking and piping. The Major had no appetite for this and said: ‘We’ll call on the way back from the boat. There won’t be anyone there after the curfew. Besides, we’d better not waste any time.’ The Human Condition, who had been staring with dismay at this frantic queue of fellow-victims, uttered a heart-rending groan. For how long had he been reprieved?
When they reached Collyer’s Quay they were thankful that they had not delayed any longer for already the quay itself and the surrounding area was