Jacobsson about such legendary names-it made a deep impression on me. And I was thinking now-imagine, Emily, you are sitting here on a stone bench in Stockholm with a man-with one whose name, in later years, will be discussed exactly as you heard Anatole France and John Galsworthy discussed today.’
‘Well, hardly-it’s flattering, but not the same.’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘I may be the Eucken or Bunin of the Nobel roll call. Just as all our Presidents were not Lincoln. Some were Polk and Pierce.’
‘I think not.’
‘You don’t know a thing about me, Miss Stratman.’
She swerved towards him on the bench. ‘How is one transformed from Emily to Miss Stratman overnight?’
‘By the wondrous sorcery of sobriety.’
‘I see. Well, wet or dry, I’m still Emily.’
‘In that case-I’m Andrew.’
Her brow furrowed. ‘That’s hard for me. It would have to be Mr. Craig for quite a while. After that, the next step would be-well, dropping Mr. Craig, and not using your name at all-the transition-and then long after, maybe your first name. But we have only a week.’
‘Andrew’s so easy. Try it.’
‘I couldn’t.’
‘Simply say it after me. Andrew.’
‘Andrew.’
‘There, you see. Was that so difficult?’
‘No-because I didn’t believe it, it didn’t connect with you.’
‘Well, when you’re by yourself, practise it, rehearse constantly. Andrew-Andrew-where is Andrew?’
She smiled. ‘All right, I’ll skip the Mr. Craig, I’ll use no name for the time and see what happens.’
‘The weekly news magazines refer to us as Nobelmen. I wouldn’t mind that.’
‘I’ll oblige you in my next incarnation-when I’m a weekly news magazine.’
She drew on her cigarette, and dropped her shoulders slightly, as if more at ease. ‘Back at Skansen,’ she said casually, ‘did you and my uncle really discuss physics and literature?’
‘Not a bit.’
‘I thought not. What did you talk about?’
‘You.’
She showed no surprise, and pretended no immediate curiosity. ‘That must have lasted a quick ten seconds.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Some people are conversation pieces, and some aren’t. I’m “aren’t”. I hate to admit this, Mr.-sorry, I promised transition-I hate to admit this, but I’m enormously unexciting.’
‘How would you know?’
‘Who else would know better? I’m cerebral and unadventurous. Not dull, mind you. I’m extremely clever in my head, and original, but there’s nothing for a biographer or novelist. Shouldn’t a good character provide conflict and excitement-action, eccentricity, passion-something?’
‘Not necessarily, but it helps. Most people are good characters, not from the skin out, but beneath the skin.’
‘Perhaps,’ said Emily. ‘Anyway, I can’t see two great Nobel brains discussing me at any length.’
‘I brought you up,’ said Craig, ‘because somehow it seemed to matter to me. I told your uncle how I’d behaved the night before, and that I owed you an apology, not only owed you but myself, because I wanted your good opinion.’
‘What did he say?’
‘I think he advised me to go find another girl and start from scratch.’
Emily laughed. ‘Oh, he couldn’t have-’
‘No, not in those words. But he made it clear that if I had offended you, I shouldn’t hold too much hope about unoffending you.’
‘Well-I’ve got to admit I have thought about last night-’
‘I was drunk, Emily, absolutely plastered. The way I behaved then has nothing to do with the way I am now or usually. I don’t ordinarily take pretty girls, whom I’ve just met, into private rooms and try to kiss them. I’m much too reticent. But my inhibitions had dissolved, and I was impelled to perform, in short minutes, as I normally might perform after long weeks. So, forgive me-and pretend I’ve found another girl, and I want to start from scratch.’
‘If you’d waited a moment, you wouldn’t have had to apologize at all,’ said Emily. ‘I was trying to say-I thought about last night, and there is simply nothing to forgive on your part. If there is to be an apology, it should come from me.’
Craig knitted his brow in bewilderment.
‘Yes,’ continued Emily, ‘from me. I’m not a child, but sometimes I behave like one. I knew you were-well, that you’d had some drinks-and so had I, and I was amused by you, and more awed than I let on. I went to that room with you because I wanted to. And as to your-your advances-I could have handled all that in good humour, or seriously but nicely, instead of playing the swooning nineteenth-century maiden. My behaviour was involuntary- that’s the best I can say for it-as I’m sure yours was, too. So, as you put it, let’s start from scratch, Andrew.’
‘There, you said it-Andrew.’
‘I did? I guess I did. Isn’t that strange?’
‘Now, then, I know the way to start from scratch,’ said Craig. ‘First, we must enlist you in Aimless Tours, Incorporated. The first tour is downtown-Kungsgatan. I haven’t had lunch-let’s get me a sandwich, and you something, a soft drink, and just walk and look or not look and do absolutely nothing.’
She hesitated, then nodded towards the rear. ‘What about all of them?’
‘I’ll run in and tell them we have to do some shopping.’
‘I actually do. I haven’t bought a thing.’
Craig jumped to his feet. ‘I’ll tell your uncle you’ll see him at the hotel a little later.’
‘You’re sure no one will mind?’
‘They may. But I’ll mind more if we don’t do this. Now, just sit and wait for me.’
He strode hurriedly across the court towards the building, just as Mr. Manker emerged and waved, and started towards them.
‘Miss Decker became worried,’ said Mr. Manker, ‘so I said I’d find you.’
‘Thanks, Mr. Manker. I was going in to find you. Will you tender our thanks and regrets to one and all, and explain to Professor Stratman and Miss Decker that Emily and I have to go into the city-some shopping, some errands-’
‘But our sightseeing, Mr. Craig, it is not done.’
‘Wonderful as you’ve been, Mr. Manker, I’ve decided to join another group for the rest of the day. Aimless Tours, Incorporated. I recommend them highly. They’re good for what ails you-myopia, bunions, buzzing in the head, and cathedralitis. See you later, Mr. Manker.’
After leaving the taxi, they had walked only a short distance on Stockholm’s main street before they had come upon the Triumf restaurant at Kungsgatan 40 and peered inside and decided that it might be a lunch-room.
They sat on high green stools behind one of the three horseshoe-shaped counters and consulted a menu relentlessly Swedish. Timidly, Emily suggested a translator, but Craig thought that would spoil the game. After considerable speculation, Craig settled upon
When their dishes came, they were both dismayed. ‘Kyckling’ proved to be fried chicken.
