Soldier No More

'You wouldn't understand— he might, but you wouldn't—if what you say about him is right.'

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'Me?' squeaked Roche, caught unawares.

'It probably isn't right, my dear chap. But if you've got anything to do with intelligence work . . . would you employ me?'

Roche swallowed. 'I beg your pardon?'

Audley shook his head. 'I beg yours, Captain. I shouldn't have asked the question . . . but if you were—which I'm sure you're not—and you wouldn't admit it if you were, anyway—

but if you were, you wouldn't. That's all.' He rocked on the stool. 'But don't bother to answer, Captain—it was just a hypothetical statement.'

'I don't understand a word you're saying,' said Lexy. She looked at Roche. 'What's he saying, David?'

Roche understood exactly what Audley was saying, but still couldn't believe what he had heard, because luck didn't come to anyone packaged so neatly, not in a million years.

'David—' began Jilly.

'Don't worry, Captain,' said Audley. 'Have another drink and forget every thing I said.'

'No!' snapped Jilly. 'David—are you saying that you'd like to go back to intelligence work?'

'That's exactly what he's saying,' said Stein. 'But why, David, for God's sake? The sewage doesn't smell any sweeter these days—if anything it's dirtier, I should think.'

'Dirtier for sure, old boy,' agreed Audley. 'Everything gets dummy5

grubbier with time, it's a natural process. No more worlds fit for heroes, no more capitalist heavens or socialist Utopias.'

'And no more British Empire,' said Stein. 'You wouldn't be playing Kipling's 'Great Game' in the high passes any more—

no more Bengal Lancers, old boy. No more glamour.'

'There never was any glamour.'

'No money either. You said they were stingy before—they'll be even stingier now. You'll spend half your time trying to cook your expenses.' Stein shook his head sadly.

'Oh . . . that wouldn't worry him, darling.' Lexy surfaced again. 'He's positively rolling in the stuff, you know that!'

'Maybe he doesn't like being on the losing side,' said Bradford. 'Losing isn't his style.'

Roche knew he couldn't let that pass—not with what he still had to do. 'We're not damn well losing.'

Audley shook his head. 'Oh—but we are, my dear chap.

We're losing very thoroughly and comprehensively—Mike's right.' He nodded at the American. 'Ever since we won we've been losing. Suez merely broadcast the message: no more

'Rule Britannia', no more Thin Red Line, no more Civis Britannicus Sum. The gateway in the wall has been bricked up, and John Foster Dulles has scratched 'Finish' on the plaster. You're just commanding the rearguard, Roche.'

Roche scoured his wits for a reply. The trouble was that it was all true, and he was living proof of it, and all he wanted was to be on neither of these two sides, losing or winning—a dummy5

plague on them both. And a plague on rearguards too, for that matter!

'The rearguard usually gets cut to pieces,' said Stein, smiling at him across the table. 'It's the place of honour, but the honour's not quite your style either—now, is it?'

'Wrong again!' Audley revolved on his stool. 'I told you—if Roche was recruiting, I'd be his man. Like that fellow Burton said— if it be a sin to covet honour I am the most offending soul alive.'

'Hogwash!' said Bradford, the embers of his recent anger glowing through the word. 'Not you, David. Mischief—

maybe. But not honour.'

Stein chuckled. 'I wouldn't put it as strong as that, Mike.

But . . . not honour, I agree.'

Audley continued to revolve from side to side, as though he preferred to present a moving target. Yet he didn't seem to be offended by the insults. 'Well, maybe I was joking. But it's all academic anyway—thanks to dear Archie ... So let's get back to my barbarians. I particularly want to tell you about the Vandals, a people for whom I have great sympathy—a people much misunderstood, like myself ... In fact, when Izzy Collins and I started our rugger club, I wanted to call us the Vandals.

But Izzy wouldn't have it—he said we might as well call ourselves the Hooligans, and have done with it. So we settled for the Visigoths in the end, and—'

'No, David!' said Jilly. 'We haven't finished with you yet.'

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Good girl, thought Roche gratefully.

'With me, Jilly love?' Audley stopped rotating.

'That's right,' said Lexy. 'You still haven't told us why you want to serve Her Majesty again, darling.'