'This is Captain Naidu, Lucy. Moti, you've heard me speak of Lady Hazell. Moti's a friend of James's too.'
'How do you do, Moti. Let me take you up to James straight away, both of you. He won't get up, you know, Willie. He just lies there.'
'What does he say about it?'
'He just says he can't. Get up. When he says anything at all.'
They went into the house, where it seemed very dark in contrast to the sunlight.
'How long has he been here?' asked Ayscue.
'Three hours? I don't know. I went in and found him there. It scared the life out of me, honestly.'
'Has he had lunch?'
'He didn't say. You know he took Catharine to the hospital this morning and had a talk with the doctor in charge of her? Anyway, I don't think it's anything the doctor said to him. Nothing in particular, that is. They can't know anything yet. I think it's just the whole thing… you know…'
'Yes,' said Ayscue. 'In here?'
'Yes. Do your best for him, won't you? I know you will. I'll be downstairs.'
The two men entered the room formerly occupied by Catharine. Churchill was lying on his back in bed with the covers drawn up to his chin. His uniform jacket and trousers were neatly hung on the back of a chair and his shoes symmetrically arranged underneath it. He made no movement when they went and stood at the foot of the bed.
'Hullo, James. Moti and I thought we'd drop in and see you. How are you?'
Churchill went on looking at the ceiling, or into space.
'Tell us how you feel,' said Naidu. 'Describe it as exactly as you can. Then Willie and I will be able to help you.'
After a minute of silence, Ayscue started to speak again, but Naidu checked him with a hand on his arm. Perhaps another minute had gone by when Churchill spoke, in a faint and monotonous voice, as if very tired.
'I didn't want to stay in camp,' he said, 'and go to lectures. I came over here. It was so quiet. I thought it would be better if I got into her bed. I thought that was a good idea. There was nowhere else I wanted to be. I couldn't think of anywhere else I could be. But it's just as bad. There isn't anywhere to be.'
About this time they noticed tears beginning to flow steadily from his eyes. He himself seemed unaware that this was happening. His face did not become distorted in any way.
'It's worse,' he went on. 'It just shows me how much she isn't here. It isn't like the same bed or the same room. You can't remember it well enough. It wipes it all out. It stops it ever having happened. You're falling off a cliff and yesterday you saw something beautiful. Now you're falling off a cliff and so yesterday you didn't see something beautiful. She wasn't really here. Because she's gone.'
They waited, but there was evidently no more for the moment. Ayscue sat down on the bed, took out his handkerchief and wiped Churchill's eyes.
'There are things we've got to settle, James/' he said hesitantly. 'You'll have to get back to camp pretty soon or you'll be marked absent. And in a case like this, top secret and the rest of it, that's serious, James. If you don't look out you're going to get yourself arrested, and then you won't be able to see Catharine at all.'
'I don't mind what happens,' said Churchill almost at once.
'That's what you say now. You'll mind all right when you find they won't let you see Catharine.'
'That's already happened.'
'I mean at all. You told me yourself they'll put you away for God knows how long if you desert. Your only chance of going on seeing Catharine is to go on this Operation thing and then come back.'
'Oh, I'm not going on the Operation,' said Churchill, his tone betraying for the first time some slight emotion: surprise that Ayscue should need to be told anything so self-evident.
Ayscue was not speaking at all hesitantly now. 'You've got to,' he said. 'You can't just lie there. Get up and I'll drive you back to camp.'
'I'm not coming.'
'You must! James, don't be a fool. There's no sense in this kind of behavior. It just makes everything worse. Surely you can see that? Or are you trying not to? From every point of view it's your duty to get out of that bed and get your clothes on.'
'Don't tell me my duty,' said Churchill slowly.
'I'm not talking about your duty as a soldier. Not altogether, anyhow. Mostly not. You've got a duty as a man as well. That's much more important.'
'I don't want to hear about it. Not from you. Padre.'
'Forget the padre.'
'I can't forget. Or forgive. Go away. You love everything I hate. Go away. Leave me alone.'
'I won't.' Ayscue leaned across and took Churchill by the shoulders. 'I know what you think. You
