Her Lover (40 page)

When she got back to her room, Madame Deume sat down in the Voltaire-style armchair, picked up her knitting, put it down again almost at once, and gave her husband a pale-blue look. He shivered and assumed an innocent expression.

'Did you notice there was something up with Didi this morning? Oh, he did his best to hide it, but a mother's heart is never deceived. Oh yes! I know exactly what the matter was! It was because yesterday she wouldn't go with him to the big reception given by Monsieur what's-his-name Benedetti! That girl's a nasty piece of work! (She crunched a cracknel: it exploded in the sinister, frightening mouth of her self-regard.) I guarantee that when we sit down to dinner - if, that is, Madame condescends to put in an appearance — I guarantee that when I tell her we're having Emmeline Ventradour over the day after tomorrow for high tea she won't say a word, just to show that Princess High-and-Mighty is simply not interested in such things. (Dental twitterings to accompany the removal by suction of fragments of cracknel.) Anyway, you can take it from me that the Ventradour estate is in a different class altogether in terms of size from that tiny place of her aunt's, which in any case was snatched from under our very noses, seeing as how it was left to the uncle so that my poor Didi wouldn't get his hands on it! And she had the barefaced nerve to tell me that she thought it was only right! .Still, I have a duty to love her and I shall pray for her!'

CHAPTER 28

Responding with a conditioned reflex to the sound of the buzzer, Miss Wilson made an exactly judged entry and halted two metres short of the Louis XVI desk. Fifty-something, proper, deficiently hindquartered, convinced of the utter rightfulness of her existence, exuding overpowering waftures of lavender orchestrated with the harmonics of Pears soap, she waited in silence, perpendicular and efficient, and netted him with her frank, green, fearless, irreproachable, devoted and vacuous stare.

Turning his head away to avoid her eyes which made him uneasy, for it was the look worn by the uncomplicated and the sensible, he asked her to call the heads of section to a meeting. She acquiesced gravely, deferential but self-contained, then turned on heels as flat as her behind, and made her exit, borne up by her certainties, strong in her faith in God and King, sustained by her implacable uprightness, by the sure promise of a place in the ever-after and by the cottage she had already bought in Surrey, where she would live when she retired and snip her roses with sharp secateurs between cups of tea (strong, no sugar), held in high regard by all and sundry, pally with the vicar's wife, irreproachable and happy in her little cottage, which she would leave only when, still a virgin and with her large feet first, she was summoned directly to heaven. Her place was among life's fortunates and she had faith. He, on the other hand, belonged nowhere, a man of solitude who believed in nothing. The only way out: suicide. But in the meantime, on with the farce of the daily meeting.

The six heads of section sat waiting in the committee room around a long table, notepads before them, smoking and courteously flashing expensive lighters at their neighbours, exchanging pleasantries and heartily detesting each other. Jonkheer van Vries, secredy despising his colleagues who were commoners and lacking in the social graces of which he believed he had more than his fair share, contributed little to the conversation. (He was particularly proud of his familiarity with the stratospheric social niceties, such as knowing that some great names like Broglie or Cholmondeley were pronounced in unexpected and quite delightful ways, or that some dukedoms were sovereign and others not. Furthermore, saying 'my tuxedo' rather than 'my dinner-jacket' filled him with a delicious sense of superiority. These and other insiderly trivialities together with his acquaintance with a versifying countess who, though constantly at death's door, was socially very astute and gave large parties, plus the fact that he was received by a particularly dim-witted queen-in-exile, were the
raison d'etre
which sustained this sorry specimen of humanity, with his great pop-eyes and his perpetual highly perfumed aura of Russian Leather.)

The heads of section stood up when Solal came in. He surveyed them and knew them for what they were. With the exception of Benedetti, who plotted against him underhandedly, they were all on his side, that is to say, they settled for a prudent smile, occasionally tinged with approval, when they heard someone speak ill of him.

He motioned them to be seated and said there was only one item of business, which had been put on the agenda at the request of the Secretary-General and drafted by Sir John personally, to wit: 'Action to be taken to promote the goals and ideals of the League of Nations'.

None of the section heads had any more idea of what form such action should take than did Sir John, who expected his subordinates to tell him what he wanted. Nevertheless, they all took turns and spoke volubly, the rule of rules being never lose face, always appear to be on top of things, and at all cost never admit to not understanding or not knowing what to do.

And so they rambled on boldly, brightly, without any clear idea of which issues they were supposed to be discussing. While his colleagues, who all quickly tired of lengthy comments other than their own, drew geometric doodles on their notepads and then glumly proceeded to improve them with curlicues, van Vries droned on for ten minutes to the effect that it was essential to draw up a plan of action which was not simply systematic but concrete. Next, Benedetti spoke to two points which were in his view crucial: firstly that, in his opinion, for what it was worth, what was required was a programme of action rather than a plan of action, he repeated, a programme, the difference, he believed, was capital, at least in his book it was; and secondly, that the programme of action should be conceived as a specific project, he was not afraid to nail his colours to the mast, a project that was specific.

The other heads of section nodded in agreement, and all acknowledged the absolute necessity of having a specific project. Specific projects were always in good odour in the Secretariat. It was not clear what value 'specific' added to 'project',.but a specific project looked altogether more pondered than a penny-plain project. In reality, no one knew the difference between a project and a specific project, and nobody had ever bothered to ask what the precious adjective meant and what purpose it served. People were only too happy to talk about specific projects and left it at that. When a project was said to be specific, it immediately acquired a highly esteemed aura of mystery, became a marvel pregnant with the promise of fruitful action.

Next to take the floor was Basset, Head of the Cultural Section, who pointed out the need to work closely with the relevant voluntary organizations. But everything should be open and above board! interjected Maxwell, Section Head of Plans and External Liaison, and it had to be made crystal clear from the word go that the Secretariat would retain overall control of the specific project! That was all very well! cried Johnson, but the whole matter craved wary walking, and nothing should be done without the full agreement of the member states! To this end, the first and indispensable step would be to circulate various governments with a questionnaire, the responses to which would serve as the basis on which the specific project that was to constitute the programme of action would be drawn up. Orlando considered that their best option would be to contact the Education Ministers of member states with a view to setting up a programme of school talks on the theme of the goals and ideals of the League of Nations.

Returning to the charge, Basset - his real name was Cohen, surname of the descendants of Aaron, brother of Moses, but the little stinker had chosen to hide behind Basset — argued that 'since the specific project is to provide for a programme of action which must be not only systematic and concrete but also coordinated, it follows that special action is required to establish the parameters of coordination on the one hand between the various sections of the Secretariat and, on the other, between the Secretariat and the various intergovernmental agencies, so as to avoid crossed wires, arguments about who is responsible for what and general duplication, and that the specific project should lay down as its ultimate objective, after consultation with the relevant governments, the creation within the Secretariat of a new section with particular responsibility for promoting the goals and ideals of the League of Nations. I thank you for your attention,' he said and he bowed his head, no less proud of his little speech than he was of being a faithful little basset. His colleagues backed the principle that a new section should be created, for they were all aware of the reorganizing fever which periodically gripped the Secretary-General. Like a little boy with a Meccano set who never wearies of making and unmaking things, old man Cheyne was never happier than when taking his fine box of tricks apart and then putting it together again, closing this section down, dividing that one into two, inventing some brand-new one, though it was always on the cards that he would go back to the old structure within a matter of months.

Anxious to shine in the presence of their silent chief, this fine body of men went at it with a will and improvised enthusiastically, conjuring up in the strange language of the Secretariat 'avenues to be explored', 'the consensual accord to be sought, on the repartition of responsibilities both in the organizational and the operational contexts', 'perceived models of approach to this problem', 'the published track record of the specialized agencies', 'the provision of back-up equipments which governments, if approached in a spirit of cooperation, might be incited to take on board', 'past experience which gives a favourable inference to a high profile vis-a-vis the urgent need for concrete action', 'the penury of viable alternatives', 'practically nonexistent difficulties', 'the convergent vocation of recent interventions in Council debates'. And so on and so forth, the whole interlarded with confused and contradictory proposals which were all conscientiously noted by the stenographer, who could not make head nor tail of any of them, for she was an intelligent girl.

Suddenly there was a silence. The waters had been so muddied that no one knew quite where they were or what had been decided. Maxwell saved the day by mooting the usual lazy face-saver, the setting up of 'a working party to explore avenues and to present, to an ad hoc committee to be constituted at a later date and composed of members delegated by national governments, the draft of a specific project setting out concrete proposals which shall form the broad framework of a long-term programme of systematic and coordinated action designed to promote the goals and ideals of the League of Nations'.

Kicking himself for not having thought of suggesting this himself, and most anxious to make a good impression, van Vries proposed that, on the basis of the discussion which had just taken place and the recommendations made, a note for guidance should be 'drafted and forwarded to the as yet unconstituted working party which would serve as both its broad brief and its terms of reference'. Proud of this little piece of sabotage and delighted to land a rival with a nasty chore, he suggested that Maxwell might care to look after drafting the note for guidance, which needed to be done quickly so that it could then be submitted to Sir John for his approval.

'Excellent. We are all in agreement,' said Solal, and he bit his lip again. 'Maxwell, go to it. Thank you, gentlemen.'

When he was alone, he pictured what would happen next. Maxwell would send for Mossinsohn, currently on temporary transfer to Plans and External Liaison, and tell him that the whole stenographic record of the meeting contained all he needed to draft a note for guidance, that the work had been virtually done for him and that all he, Mossinsohn, had to do was to lick the thing into shape and get it down to a reasonable length. It shouldn't take him more than an hour or two. 'Go to it,' he too would say, 'it's a piece of cake, though do take care, be alive to the political dimension and steer clear of anything that might offend national susceptibilities, aim for the flexible approach, avoid anything that might upset governments, keep it general, blur the edges, and let me have it first thing tomorrow morning.' And the unfortunate Mossinsohn would go to it all through the night, stayed with coffees innumerable. In the end, fogged down by the inconsistencies in the verbatim record, despairing of ever getting to the bottom of their mysteries, he would simply make up what the six heads of section had decided and concoct a suitable note for guidance out of his own head. And so an insignificant Jew without friends at court, employed as a temporary clerk at five hundred francs a month, would dictate the decision which Sir John Cheyne KCB, KCVO would then proceed to take. - 'Miss Wilson, would you ask van Vries to come and see me?'

Tall, neurasthenic and horsy, his red hair parted in the middle, the Head of the Mandates Section, shoulders drooping and guilty in advance, entered in fear and dread of the dressing-down which was always on the cards. Solal waved him to a chair and, letting his gaze wander, asked him if he was satisfied with young Deume. Van Vries manufactured a minor coughing fit to give him time to come up with the right answer. Deume, whom he loathed as much for his reputation as a man of letters as for his sloth and chronic lateness, had recently been made up to an A by direct selection.
Ergo
the little swine was well regarded in high places.
Ergo
say nothing but good of him.

'Very satisfied. An excellent official. Punctual, lots of ideas, works well with colleagues.'

'I'd like you to send him on an official visit now and then.'

'As it happens, I was thinking along those self-same lines myself this very morning,' van Vries lied quickly. "In fact, I was just about to send you a note recommending that he should be sent to Paris and London to make contact with the relevant ministries. There's nothing like the personal touch for creating an atmosphere of trust and collaboration. Moreover, he'll be able to bring back very useful information, since information is always easier to gather on the spot. I also had half a mind to suggest that he should then be sent on to two areas which pose particularly delicate problems, I mean of course Syria and Palestine.'