For the Good of the State

But, beyond David Audley and Nikolai Panin there was Adam Pietruszka now. And that changed the priorities—

Blood for blood! But he must control himself, too.

‘Don’t be sorry.’ He sank back into the bed. And, the irony was, he would be warm now that he was in control of himself again. ‘Don’t be sorry. Willy.’ He reached out for her. Then he stopped, and reached up instead for the light switches, even as he re-inserted himself into the bed.

Darkness —

He reached out for her again, and this time she didn’t reject him.

Price, Anthony - For the Good of the State Rather, she melted into him.

Darkness and silence. And he could almost feel the high folds of the moorland outside, protecting them.

But then she stirred uneasily, in the crook of his arm. ‘Shouldn’t you tell Audley those names, Tom?’

Zarubin—Marchuk… Pietruszka?

He looked up into nothingness, as she snuggled against him, knowing that the Green Man was up there above him.

Pietruszka—Piotrowski—Wolski—Chmielewski: no doubts about those names! And Pekala, too!

The Green Man was still looking down on him, with that ancient inscrutable wisdom of his, dark and clear: his green leaves had once been symbolic of the pleasures of the flesh, but he also understood the necessity of sacrifice too, as part of regeneration: so his understanding was part of Father Jerzy’s, pagan and Christ-like and complete.

‘Tomorrow morning will do—’ He had surrendered to exhaustion, and there was no going back on that white flag now; because sufficient unto the day was the evil thereof… and blood for blood was for tomorrow ‘—let Audley get his night’s sleep—okay?’

She sighed. But then she snuggled again, without knowing what she’d accepted… which maybe Jaggard didn’t know… and maybe Panin didn’t know, either… But Audley would know, as Tom Arkenshaw knew now—

Price, Anthony - For the Good of the State Pietruszka— damn his black soul to hell!

Tom felt himself divide, into his English half and his Polish half, as he held the woman he still loved in his arms, and deceived her.

Yet it was not a complete description: Father’s gentler English half had once demanded blood-for-blood, the old Anglo-Saxon wergild

— but that was long ago… so that half could cherish Willy now. It was Mamusia’s side which wanted blood—

Somehow, he must preserve David Audley tomorrow, and yet he must exact wergild for Father Jerzy also—

‘Tom, honey… hold me tight, Tom—’

Like Audley, Father also had Norman blood in him. And Norman blood had a pragmatic virtue: it attended to first things first.

So that was what he would do now, then.

7

Audley blew his nose noisily, and with evident self-pity, and surveyed the elderly Ford Cortina with distaste, and muttered again under his breath.

Out of the corner of his eye Tom observed the garage man bestow the crisp new bank notes into a back pocket, and the garage man caught his glance and nodded ingratiatingly. ‘She’s a good runner

—you can take my word for that, sir,’ he added quickly, in support Price, Anthony - For the Good of the State of his nod. ‘An’ I’ll put your car under cover.‘

‘If you’d just get in the car, David.’ Tom moved into the pause before Audley could explode into disbelief. ‘Then we can talk.’

Audley opened his mouth, but another sneeze caught him before he could pronounce on the garage man’s word; and, before he could recover, Tom had ducked round to the other side of the Cortina and was into the driver’s seat; and, with commendable prudence, the garage man followed him as far as possible, bending down and tapping on the window, leaving Audley isolated.

Tom wound down the window.

‘I know she don’t look much—’ The man massaged his pocket, as though he couldn’t believe his luck ‘—but that engine there…

that’s sweet as a bell! You just start ’er up, an‘ listen to ’er.‘

There was 95,000 on the clock, and the state of the bodywork suggested that this was the second time round. But Audley had surrendered to the inevitable and was climbing in on the other side, so he turned the ignition key quickly.

The engine roared—and roared louder as he revved it to drown out what Audley was now saying.

‘What did I tell you?’ The garage man’s reaction was a masterly overlay of gratified confidence above relieved surprise. ‘That’s a good engine, that is—sweet as a bell… An’ two new tyres on the back… You just want to watch the hand-brake—best to put ‘er in gear when you leave ’er on a hill… I still got a bit of work to do on that—like I told you, didn’t I?‘

‘Yes—thank you.’ It wasn’t stopping, it was getting away that Price, Anthony - For the Good of the State mattered now, and the road was open and the way was clear. ‘I’ll be off then.’ He engaged the gear and released the defective hand-brake to suit his words. ‘Goodbye—goodbye—’

‘Goodbye, sir—’ The Cortina’s movement sloughed off its proud owner, but not quite ‘—don’t forget what I told you about the hand-brake— the hand-brake, sir—’