Under The Net - Iris Murdoch [43]
leaned out, watching the traffic and the people passing by. I had been leaning there some little while, and I was singing a French song to myself and wondering gloomily what on earth I'd say to Sadie when she came back, when I saw two familiar figures coming down the other side of the street. It was Finn and Dave. When they saw me they began to make signals in a conspiratorial fashion. 'It's all right,' I called out, 'I'm alone.' They came across, and Dave said 'Good! We were afraid the Queen of Sheba might be there!' They both looked up at me grinning. I was extremely glad to see them. 'So!' said Dave, who was pleased with himself, 'are you enjoying to be a bodyguard? Have you guarded well?' Finn smiled up at me with his usual amiability, but I could see that on this occasion his sympathies were with Dave. They both seemed to find the situation vastly funny. I wondered what they'd think in a moment. 'I've had a quiet day,' I said with dignity. 'I've done some work.' 'Shall we ask him what his work was?' said Dave to Finn. I could see I was in for a bad half-hour. 'Well, if you've done your day's work,' said Dave, 'why not come out and have a drink. It is nearly time that they are open. Unless you'd rather invite us in. Or are you not allowed to have followers?' 'I can't come out,' I said calmly, 'and I can't ask you in either.' 'Why not?' asked Dave. 'Because I'm locked in,' I said. Finn and Dave looked at each other, and then they collapsed helplessly. Dave sat down on the kerb choking with laughter and Finn leaned weakly against the lamp-post. They rocked. I waited coolly for the paroxysm to be over, humming softly to myself. Dave at last lifted his head and after several attempts managed to say to Finn, 'But that settles it!' and they were both off again. 'Look here,' I said, impatiently, 'stop laughing and get on with getting me out of here.' 'He wants to get out!' cried Dave. 'But haven't you tried? What about that drainpipe? It looks perfectly easy, doesn't it, Finn?' And they doubled up again. 'I've tried everything,' I said. 'Now shut up and do what I say. I suggest Finn picks the lock of the kitchen door. You can get up by a fire escape at the back. I'd have done it myself only Sadie doesn't use hairpins.' 'We don't use hairpins either,' said Dave, 'but if you like we'll carry a petition to Sadie.' 'Finn,' I said, will you help me out of this place?' 'I will surely,' said Finn, but I've nothing with me.' 'Well, go and find something!' I shouted. By now our somewhat bizarre conversation had attracted a good deal of attention in the street and I didn't want to prolong it. Eventually it was agreed that Finn should walk round the neighbouring streets until he found a hairpin, and then come back to deal with the door. Even in these days one doesn't have to walk far in the streets of London before coming on a hairpin, if one happens to be looking for one. My only fear was that Finn would forget what he was supposed to be doing and go into a pub. I know myself that nothing is so hypnotic as walking along with one's eyes on the pavement. When this had been settled I closed the window firmly. I felt that further conversation with Dave would be unprofitable at that moment. In a few minutes, however, I could hear him banging on the kitchen door, and I had to go and converse with him out of the kitchen window simply to keep him quiet. He then kept up for some quarter of an hour a stream of irritating badinage, full of more or less fantastic suggestions to the effect that if I'd had an ounce of spirit I might have escaped by crawling along ledges, climbing on to the roof, tying the sheets together, and other things of a similar kind, to which I answered somewhat curtly. At last I heard Finn coming bounding up the fire escape. He had found a beautiful hairpin, and it didn't take him more than half a minute to deal with the lock. Dave and I watched him with admiration. When the door was open Dave and Finn wanted to come in and look round, but I hustled them quickly down the steps. I was not sorry to be spared the interview with