real big restaurant. I had three girls working for me. Dan was in the navy. But I did all right, I can tell you.’
‘I’m sure you did, Mrs Bolt. Ah yes, the war was a difficult time.’
‘We carried on and did our best.’
‘Excuse me,’ I said, and began to go upstairs. Instantly Mr MacNamara came after me.
‘There’s a little matter we should discuss,’ he said.
‘But she’s fixed up, dear. Ever so nice, with us.’
‘Four rooms, kitchen and bath
‘Can we see it now?’
‘I’ll take you.’
I said to Flo: ‘if I can get it, I will. I really do need more room, you know.’
She nodded, her eyes, now thoughtful, on Mr MacNamara.
We two went to the door, and I heard her shrieking as we went out: Rose, Dan. Rose. Dan …
‘You know Miss Jennings?’
‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘You’ll meet her,’ he said darkly. ‘You mustn’t believe all you hear.’
‘Rose Jennings?’
‘People are not to be trusted. Not since the war.’
Now he had me on the pavement, he was thinking out his tactics, while making a pretence at examining his watch. ‘My man won’t be in for fifteen minutes. I’ll take you to a pub near here. The best pub in London. They have nothing but vintage beers.’
‘That would be nice.’
He began walking me fast down the street, into an area that had been laid flat. About five acres of earth had been cleared of rubble, and was waiting for the builders. ‘Nice job, that,’ said Mr MacNamara, nodding at it. ‘One bomb — did the lot. All that damage. Nice work.’
We walked past it. Mr MacNamara began sending me furtive glances, sideways.
‘Know where you are?’ he asked casually.
I had, because Rose had walked me past here, but I said, ‘No, I’ve no idea.’ His furtiveness cleared into triumph and he said: ‘These bombed areas are confusing.’ We had now walked three sides of the square, and he hesitated. ‘It’s not so far now,’ he said, and turned to complete the fourth side, which would take us back to our starting point at the bottom of the street the house was in. I walked willingly beside him, feeling him watch me. He was anxious, We had now made the full square, and he said: ‘Now do you know where you are?’ For a moment I did not answer; and at once a baffled angry look filled his eyes. His body was tense with violence. Nothing was more important to him, just then, than that I should not have seen through his trick.
‘It seems miles,’ I said.
‘That’s because you don’t know the ropes,’ he said, relaxing, the violence all gone. ‘Seen that building before?’ — pointing to a house a couple of hundred yards away from Flo’s and Dan’s house.
‘They all seem alike,’ I said.
He nodded. ‘Mind you. I’ve been thinking, it might not be possible for you to see that flat this evening. But I’ll telephone to make sure.’ He strode into a telephone box, and went through the motions of telephoning. He emerged with a brisk air. ‘My client isn’t in, after all.’
‘That seems a pity.’
‘I’ll take you for the drink I promised, in any case.’ He applied a tender pressure to my upper arm; but lost interest in the gesture almost at once; his face was already dark with another pressure.
‘I’m taking you to this pub,’ he said, ‘because it’s famous.’
We went into a glossy lounge bar, and he said casually to the barman: ‘I’ll have two of the usual.’
‘What’s your usual?’ said the barman.
‘I’m used to service,’ he began, but the barman had turned away, as if accidentally, to serve someone else. Mr MacNamara took me to a free corner table, and said. ‘This is the best firm in England. Their liquors are all vintage. You know what vintage is?’
‘No, not really.’
Delighted, he said: ‘I do. I mix with the best people. I’m going to marry the daughter of a member of parliament.’
‘Good for you.’
‘Yes. Her father is a lord.’
‘Rose told me your father was a lord, too, from Ireland.’
His body tensed with anger. He narrowed his eyes, and clenched his teeth. Then he controlled himself. The violence in him so strong his whole body quivered as he damped it down. ‘I told you, you shouldn’t believe Rose Jennings. She can’t tell truth from falsehood. Some people are like that.’ He thought a moment and came out with: ‘Actually, my real name’s not MacNamara. It’s Ponsonby. I use MacNamara for business. But I’m Irish all right. Yes, from the Emerald Isle.’
‘I hope you’ve managed to get Mrs MacNamara somewhere to sleep tonight.’
‘Well of course she’d not really Mrs MacNamara. To tell you the truth, I don’t quite know what to do with her. She was going to marry a client of mine. He rang me up this morning — he’s off to Hong-Kong, on business. He left her in my charge.’
‘Poor girl.’
‘I’ve fixed her up for the night in a hotel in Bayswater.’
‘Good.’
‘But perhaps Mrs Bolt can fix her up tomorrow. She said she had a room.’
‘Oh, she did, did she?’
‘Of course it’s not what Miss Powell is used to. But then these days we take what we can get. Like you, for instance, You could afford much better if you were offered it.’
The barman now came over and said: ‘What’ll you have.’
‘Two light ales,’ said Mr Ponsonby.
When the barman brought the ales, Mr Ponsonby said; ‘I say. You’re not going to serve me that? I’m used to the best.’
The barman studied him a moment, his good-humoured eyebrows raised. Then he picked up the glasses, set them on the counter, interposed his back between him and Mr Ponsonby, and after whistling a soft tune between his teeth, lifted them round and set them down again.
‘That’s better,’ said Mr Ponsonby. He handed the barman silver, and gave him a shilling tip.
‘Some mothers do ’ave ’em,’ remarked the barman to the air, still whistling, as he returned behind the bar.
Mr Ponsonby was saying to me: ‘I could put you on to a good thing. A hundred nicker. That’s all.’
‘I haven’t got it,’ I said.
He examined me for some time, in silence. It was extraordinary how frankly he did this, as if the necessity to do so made him invisible to me; as if he scrutinized me from behind a barricade.
‘Mr MacNamara,’ I said. ‘You’re making a mistake about me. I really don’t have any money.’
This remark seemed to reassure him. ‘Ponsonby,’ he said, ‘Well, I’ll show you you can trust me.’ He reached his hands into his pockets. From one he brought out military medals, about a dozen of them. From another a packet of papers. Matching one to another on the table he showed me citation after citation for bravery, etc., to Alfred Ponsonby. Among them was the DSO.
‘I was in the Commandos,’ he said.
‘I’m not surprised.’
‘Yes, they were the best days of my life.’ He replaced the medals in one pocket and the papers in the other and said: ‘I keep fit, just in case. Ju-jitsu. There’s nothing like it.’
‘I think it’s time I got back.’
He examined me again. Then he leaned himself forward to me, the surface of his brown eyes glazed with solicitude. ‘I would really like to see you fixed up. I can see you are a little disappointed with me. Oh, don’t deny it. I could see, when I telephoned and my client wasn’t in. But I’ve a special interest in you.’ His gaze went blank while
