be married.’
‘Indeed? What a splendid concept. I do very heartily congratulate you.
‘We can take it that you approve, then, can we, sir?’
‘Approve?’ Vanag gave a merry laugh of pure amusement. ‘Of course I approve, but what possible difference could it make whether I did or not? The view of a humble pen-pusher can hardly be of much interest to anyone. Well now, this chance encounter is very timely, Mr Markov. I was thinking to myself just the other day that my ignorance of the activities of your Commission was quite shameful. You can enlighten me. Perhaps you’d be good enough to give me a short account of them.’
Theodore set himself to do so and the talk flowed with some freedom. After a couple of minutes Alexander joined the group, but seemed to have nothing to contribute. He soon began making small impatient movements which the other two men paid no attention to.
‘It’s an impressive undertaking,’ said Vanag in tones of great interest and also of finality. ‘More ambitious than I’d realised.’
‘It’s the least we can do, after the way we treated them in the past.’
‘I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t quite…’
‘The denationing programme was nothing but an act of savagery.
‘With respect, Mr Markov, if it was that it was also something more: it was the means of breaking the English will to resist, and that had to be done.’
‘It broke everything English. The scale of the thing was altogether wrong. After all, organised resistance collapsed on the third day.’ Theodore was trying hard to speak calmly and civilly. ‘Isn’t that true, sir?’
‘Perfectly true. Hostilities didn’t cease immediately, how-ever.
‘There were isolated pockets of resistance, according to the official history of the operation.’
‘Just so. I take your point, Mr Markov, and if your feelings about these events cause you to approach your work with heightened enthusiasm, so much the better for everybody concerned. I’ve enjoyed our chat. Now I fear I must leave you. Miss Petrovsky; gentlemen.’
And with a gracious inclination of the head Director Vanag turned away and took a proffered glass of the freshly-squeezed lemonade that was always available to him wherever he went and whatever the hour.
‘Strange, isn’t it?’ said Nina a moment later. ‘If you didn’t know-’
But Alexander interrupted her. ‘Forgive me, darling, I must just have one minute with your fiance. Men’s talk. Then I’ll get you a lovely drink.’
As soon as they were alone, Theodore said, ‘What on earth’s the matter? You look-’
‘My parents know about me and Mrs Korotchenko.’
‘Are they here tonight, the Korotchenkos?’
‘I haven’t seen them.’
‘Let’s hope… Sorry, go on.
‘Well, I was all surprise and indignation but my mother just went on saying she knew – she’s always much tougher than my father over things like this, over most things, in fact. They were trying to warn me off, saying she’s mad and bad, but that’s no news, though they had plenty of documentation, I must admit. At any rate, they know.’
‘How?’
Alexander drew in his breath and shook his head. ‘That’s just it. My mother was quite firm that it was nothing but her observation of me and Mrs K on the evening in question, but she may have some source she didn’t want to mention.’
‘Who could it be?’
‘I can’t imagine. It’s depressing. Perhaps I could… No. Let’s think. Not Korotchenko or they’d have mentioned it, and so would he, presumably. They’d have mentioned the Tabidzes too. Or would they? Who else is there? Think.’
‘Look, will your parents keep quiet?
‘My mother will. My father… well, yes, probably. I’ll take a chance on it, anyway.’
‘You must. The great thing is that Korotchenko clearly doesn’t know. That list of their agents is important to us.’
‘All right.’
‘When is it, next Thursday?
Before the night was out Theodore Markov had another conversation that was later to seem important to him, even though this later one lasted only half a minute. The sturdy figure of Commissioner Mets had approached him and Nina rather abruptly.
‘How did it go’?’ Mets had known about the impending engagement.
‘Oh, very well, thank you, sir. The old boy was rather taken aback but he soon rallied.’
‘Good. I saw you having a word with the big boss. Vanag.’
‘Yes, sir. Just briefly.’
‘What do you think of him?’ asked Mets in a loud expressionless voice.
‘We had met once before. He was most polite.’
‘Good. He didn’t make any interesting remarks, I suppose, about any of us? I mean he’s a bit of a joker in his way.’
‘Is he? No, the conversation was general.’
‘I see. He can be quite a joker, you know. Well… good night.’
‘Your boss might have congratulated me or something,’ said Nina as soon as it was opportune.
‘I think he must have been drunk.’
‘Probably. He looked to me as if he was frightened.’
Time was advancing. No food remained on the tables; a large part of it had been eaten by the guests, the rest smuggled out of sight by the waiters for selling to the English gardeners, grooms and lower house-servants for a few hundred pounds a time. The punch had all been drunk, and the company, now somewhat reduced in both numbers and condition, was regaling itself on inferior white wine, rye beer and various spirits. As the light began to fail there was a general move indoors, partly because the breeze had freshened, partly because a good deal of noise was now coming from an impromptu male-voice choir and, round the miniature temple, a remote kind of prayer-meeting with the principal role being taken at the moment by a naked man flourishing a bottle of vodka, during the day a senior official in the department of communications.
A visitor who knew the house as it normally was would have noted certain arrangements made for the occasion. The standard of behaviour expected tonight was far higher than that at, say, Igor Swianiewicz’s parties, which were as different as they could possibly have been from the present gathering. Otherwise the outer doors would have been barred and heavy furniture run up against them, to be removed only when the last departure was reliably reported. As it was there was free access to east and west halls, in which hard chairs and folding tables were set, and only the more expensive appointments had been locked away. All internal doors except those of the downstairs lavatories, where the floors were covered with sheets of waterproof material, had of course been securely blocked.
The more sober spirits were grouped at the western end. It was here that, about eleven o’clock, Mrs Tabidze yielded to persistent requests and began telling fortunes with a pack of playing-cards. She stipulated that she would not choose her clients – individuals must suggest themselves, thereby nettling Alexander, who felt that this undemanding way of holding the stage would be unacceptably degraded if one were seen to bid for it. Nina had no such inhibitions. Ignoring Theodore’s mild dissuasion she went forward and sat at the small baize-covered table on the other side of which Agatha Tabidze was putting out the cards face down in heaps of half a dozen and turning them over apparently at random. Nina’s virtues were rehearsed, then some of her accomplishments, like making a good lemon souffle; this part was light and facetious in tone. Her engagement was treated rather more sedately, with a few minor facts revealed which it seemed she had not thought at all generally known. Finally – it was soon clear that the fortunes told were to be of no great comprehensiveness – Mrs Tabidze drew a fresh card and said in a gentle voice,
‘And what is to come will be good. Soon there will be a time of trial, not of your making, for between the two of you there will never be any serious difficulty, yet none the less it will be a troublesome time. But it will pass, and you will be together, and you will be happy.’
