Читать книгу The End of the Battle - Evelyn Waugh - Страница 10

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THE Kilbannocks’ house in Eaton Terrace had suffered no direct damage from bombing; not a pane of glass had been broken, not a chimney-pot thrown down; but four years of war had left their marks on the once gay interior. Kerstie did her best but paint, wallpapers, chintzes and carpets were stained and shabby. Despite these appearances the Kilbannocks had in fact recovered from the comparative penury of 1939. Kerstie no longer took lodgers. She had moved from the canteen of the Transit Camp to a well-paid job as cipher clerk; Ian’s pay rose with the rings on his cuff; an aunt had died leaving him a modest legacy. And there was nothing in those days to tempt anyone to extravagance. Kerstie had had Ian’s evening clothes cleverly adapted into a serviceable coat and skirt. The children were still confined to their grandmother in Scotland and came to London only on occasions.

On this October evening they were expecting Virginia Troy, once an inmate, now rather a rare visitor.

“You’d better go out to Bellamy’s or somewhere,” said Kerstie, “I gathered on the telephone that Virginia wants a heart-to-hearter.”

“Trimmer.”

“I suppose so.”

“I’m thinking of shipping him to America.”

“It will be much the best thing.”

“We’ve done pretty well all we can with him in this country. We’ve finished the film. The B.B.C. don’t want to renew ‘The Voice of Trimmer’ Sunday-evening postscripts.”

“I should think not.”

“It seemed a good idea. Somehow it didn’t catch on. Trimmer has to be seen as well as heard. Besides, there are a lot of rival heroes with rather better credentials.”

“You think the Americans will swallow him?”

“He’ll be something new. They’re sick of fighter pilots. By the way, do you realise it was Trimmer who gave the monarch the idea for this Sword of Stalingrad? Indirectly, of course. In the big scene of Trimmer’s landing I gave him a ‘commander dagger’ to brandish—I don’t suppose you’ve even seen the things. They were an idea of Brides-in-the-Bath’s early on. A few hundred were issued. To my certain knowledge none was ever used in action. A Glasgow policeman got a nasty poke with one. They were mostly given away to tarts. But they were beautifully made little things. Well, you know how sharp the royal eye is for any detail of equipment. He was given a preview of the Trimmer film and spotted the dagger at once. Had one sent round to him. Then the royal mind brooded a bit and the final result was that thing in the Abbey. An odd item of contemporary history?”

“Are you going to Bellamy’s?”

“Everard Spruce asked us to a party. I might look in.”

The bell of the front door sounded through the little house.

“Virginia, I expect.”

Ian let her in. She kissed with cold detestation and came upstairs.

“I thought you were sending him out,” she said to Kerstie.

“I am. Run along, Ian, we have things to talk about.”

“Do I have to remind you that I am your direct superior officer?”

“Oh, God, how that joke bores me.”

“I see you’ve brought luggage.”

“Yes. Can I stay for a bit, Kerstie?”

“Yes, for a bit.”

“Until Trimmer’s out of the country. He says he’s had a warning order to stand by for a trip—somewhere where he can’t take me, thank God.”

“I always hoped,” said Ian, “you might come to like him.”

“I’ve done two years.”

“Yes, you’ve been jolly good. You deserve a holiday. Well, I’ll leave you two. I expect I’ll be pretty late home.”

Neither woman showed any regret at this announcement. Ian went downstairs and out into the darkness.

“There’s nothing in the house to drink,” said Kerstie. “We could go out somewhere.”

“Coffee?”

“Yes, I can manage that.”

“Let’s stay in then.”

“Nothing much to eat either. I’ve got some cod.”

“No cod, thanks.”

“I say, Virginia, you’re pretty low.”

“Dead flat. What’s happened to everyone? London used to be full of chums. Now I don’t seem to know anyone. Do you realise that since my brother was killed I haven’t a single living relation?”

“My dear, I am sorry. I hadn’t heard. In fact I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“He was called Tim—five years younger than me. We never got on. He was killed three years ago. You’ve such hundreds of children and parents and cousins, Kerstie. You can’t imagine what it feels like to be quite alone. There’s my step-mother in Switzerland. She never approved of me and I can’t get at her now anyway. I’m scared, Kerstie.”

“Tell.”

Virginia was never one whose confidences needed drawing out.

“Money,” she said. “I’ve never known what it was like to have no money. It’s a very odd sensation indeed. Tim made a will leaving all he had to some girl. Papa never left me anything. He thought I was well provided for.”

“Surely Mr. Troy will have to cough up eventually. Americans are great ones for alimony.”

“That’s what I thought. It’s what my bank manager and lawyer said. At first they thought it was just some difficulty of exchange control. They wrote him a lot of letters, polite at first, then firm, then threatening. Finally, about six months ago they hired a lawyer in New York to serve a writ. A fine move that turned out to be. Mr. Troy has divorced me.”

“Surely he can’t do that?”

“He’s done it. All signed and sealed. Apparently he’s had a man watching me and taking affidavits.”

“How absolutely disgusting.”

“It’s just like Mr. Troy. I ought to have suspected when he lay so low. We’ve sent for copies of the evidence in case there is any sort of appeal possible. But it doesn’t sound likely. After all I haven’t been strictly faithful to Mr. Troy all this time.”

“He could hardly expect that.”

“So not only no alimony, but an overdraft and a huge lawyer’s bill. I did the only thing I could and sold jewels. The beasts gave me half what they cost; said no one was buying at the moment.”

“Just what they said to Brenda.”

“Then this morning a very awkward thing happened. One of the things I sold was a pair of clips Augustus gave me. I’d quite forgotten about them till they turned up in an old bag. What’s more I’d forgotten that when I lost them years ago I had reported it to the insurance company and been paid. Apparently I’ve committed a criminal offence. They’ve been fairly decent about that. They aren’t going to the police or anything, but I’ve got to refund the money—£250. It doesn’t sound much, but I haven’t got it. So this afternoon I’ve been hawking furs around. They say no one’s buying them either, though I should have thought it’s just what everyone will want with winter coming on and no coal.”

“I always envied your furs,” said Kerstie.

“Yours for two hundred and fifty.”

“What’s the best offer you got?”

“Believe it or not, £75.”

“I happen to have a little money in the bank at the moment,” said Kerstie thoughtfully. “I could go a bit higher than that.”

“I need three times as much.”

“You must have some other things left.”

“All I possess in the world is downstairs in your hall.”

“Let’s go through it, Virginia. You always had so many things. I’m sure we can find something. There’s that cigarette case you’re using now.”

“It’s badly knocked about.”

“But it was good once.”

“Mr. Troy, Cannes, 1936.”

“I’m sure we can find enough to make up £250.”

“Oh Kerstie, you are a comfort to a girl.”

So the two of them, who had “come out” the same year and led such different lives, the one so prodigal, the other so circumspect and sparing, spread out Virginia’s possessions over the grubby sofa and spent all that evening like Gypsy hucksters examining and pricing those few surviving trophies of a decade of desirable womanhood, and in the end went off to bed comforted, each in her way, and contented with their traffic.