Loving, Living, Party Going (51 page)

He found her quite soon and not so far away. She did not seem surprised at his turning up again and told him about the station master. He did not see what this had to do with it and plunged into how sorry he was, he had had an awful time coming up with her again, would she forgive him? He thought what had done it was her ancient friend giving him that parcel to get rid of and then, as soon as he had carried that out, sending him to get it back for her. This
made Angela quite cross, she told him he had been very rude, and that he had better stay away if he was going to be tiresome.

Julia had been back to her room and had not found her charms. It had been bare as though she had never lived there. Her curtains were down, they were being sent to be cleaned, her mattress had gone and her pillow cases were humps under dustsheets in the middle of her bed. Thinking it unlucky to stay and see more and besides Jemima swore that everything was packed in the cabin trunk, she called them her toys, Julia had fled by taxi this time.

Feeling rather faint she hurried through tunnels, made her way dazedly through crowds which she only noticed, to ask herself what she would do if she could not find the others and was surprised to find Claire and Evelyn where they were sitting on their luggage.

She asked how were they, darlings, and they asked her, and they kissed and all sat down again. She wanted to know where everyone had got to and saw poor Evelyna was in a great fuss which made her feel calmer in that she now felt resigned. And indeed Evelyn considered that she must do something, she told herself that if she did not deal with this situation they would be sitting here till domesday and that without her not one of this party would catch their train. So she said it must be a waste of time to try and register luggage with all the piles of it waiting in front of theirs, and she would try to find out something about their train. With that she was gone.

Used to having everything done for them, Julia and Claire settled down to wait. Soon Julia asked if Claire had seen Max and was told about their telephone conversation. She tried to make out whether this had been before she had imagined meeting him in the Green Park and took some comfort from deciding that it must have been. But she did not feel reassured. She tried to discuss how other travellers were dressed, where they could be seen at intervals standing about, many of them almost hidden by their luggage. She never mentioned Max. There was a silence and at last she coughed and said:

'Really he's hopeless, isn't he, don't you think?'

Max was still in his flat. He was also drinking whisky and soda. His arm-chair was covered with thick fake Spanish brocade, all the coverings were of this material with walls to match, fake Spanish
tables with ironwork, silver ashtrays, everything heavy and thick, all of it fake, although he thought it genuine, and it was expensive in proportion. That is to say that if all these things had been authentic he would not have had to pay more, anyone less well off could have bought museum pieces cheaper.

He answered the telephone after he had let it ring for some time.

Amabel said:

'Is that you, Max?'

'Who is it speaking?'

'Oh, Max, are you really going?'

'Why?' said he.

'I mean must you really go?'

'Just hang on a moment will you, there's something here,' and he put the receiver by and taking his glass he shot his whisky and soda into the fire. It went up in steam with a hiss. He stood still for twenty seconds then he went and mixed himself another. When he came back to the telephone she said:

'Have you got someone else there?'

'No. Why?'

'I thought I heard you shushing someone. What were you doing then?'

'I was putting water on the fire, soda water if you want to know.'

'People don't put soda water on fires.'

'I did. My paper caught alight and I had to put it out.'

'Max, I must see you. Supposing I came round now if I promised to be good.'

'What?'

'I said I could come round now if I swore to you I wouldn't be silly? Oh, Max.'

'But what is it about?'

'I won't have you go, that's all. I can't bear it.'

'I didn't say I was going.'

'It's unfair, we've had such a marvellous time together, I do love you so, darling love. Why can't we be as we were? I swear to you I won't be tiresome again. You must believe me, darling.'

'I rang you up yesterday.'

'Did you?'

'You weren't in.'

'I expect I was having my hair done. I was there all afternoon.

Max, who have you got with you, I heard them whispering just now?'

'And what were you at last night?'

'What was I at? How can you say things like that? Max, darling, what has come over you lately?'

'I rang up about half past nine.'

'I was lying down, you know all this has made me quite ill and I had such a business getting on to Dr Godley, his line was engaged all the time, I expect I was ringing him up.'

'I didn't get the engaged signal.'

'Max, my darling, I shan't argue, you have only to ask Marjorie, she was with me later. I wish you would get on to her, my dear, she could tell you the state she found me in. She was horrified.'

'I'm sorry.'

'Max, my darling, I'm so bewildered and miserable I really don't know where I am. What has happened to make everything different, it was all so perfect before and now here we are like a couple of old washerwomen slanging away at each other whenever we meet? Darling, really the whole thing is making me ill. Dr Godley says the best thing for me to do would be to go away to the sun out of this frightful fog for a month or two to give my system time to right itself. He says my whole system is out of gear and wants toning up.'

'Well, look here, are you doing anything this evening?'

And as she was saying no she was not, Edwards, his manservant, came in to say his bags were packed.

'Just a moment, Am,' he said. 'What's that?'

'Your bags are all ready, sir.'

'Who was that, darling?'

'It's only Edwards asking if I wanted any tea.'

'Ask him from me if his little boy is any better, will you?'

'I will.'

'What were you going to say?'

'Look here, supposing you came round about half past nine, we could go out and have dinner somewhere.'

'Oh, darling, that would be perfect, you are an angel, so you are not going after all?'

He said, 'That's settled then,' and rang off.

'Is the car round?'

'Yes, sir.'

'My bags in? Yes, then come on, I'm in a hurry.' Edwards put on a black bowler hat, Max had no hat at all and he drove his rich car off at speed.

He drove hard, by back streets to avoid traffic blocks, swinging his big car round corners too sharp for it and driving too fast. Edwards said it was bad weather for getting about in, was there not one air service operating and he said no, and there wouldn't be today of all days.

'I doubt if your boat train will run, sir.'

'That's not the point, I've got to go.'

So what made him drive faster, and taxi drivers and others drew up their cars and shouted after him, was that he felt he was treating her badly. If he must get away then it was not right to leave her by asking her round to find him gone. He was sick and tired of it. All the same it was bad to ask her round to find he'd gone, that was all there was to it.

Accordingly when they drew up at the station, where at once a little crowd collected to admire his car, he put it to himself that what he wanted was a drink, so he told Edwards to get his luggage registered, Miss Henderson would have the tickets, and that he would be along later. Then he went in under into a larger tunnel that had H
OTEL
E
NTRANCE
lit up over it.

He engaged a sitting-room which had a bedroom off, for when he told them what he wanted they explained they had no sitting-rooms without bedrooms and that he would have to engage both. This was typical of his whole style of living, he was always being sold more than he need buy and he did not question prices. Once in this room, with his drink ordered, he rang up Amabel. His trouble was inexperience, he could not let good lies stand.

'Why, darling, it's you again,' she said.

'About this evening. Look here, don't come after all.'

'Whyever not?'

'It won't be any good.'

'But you said I might.'

'I shan't be there.'

As she did not reply, he said he could not be there.

'You mean to tell me you are going after all?'

'Yes, I'm at the Airport now,' he said, and because she must not
find him here, she would make a scene, he rang off before she had found anything to say. He gave up his room at once.

Meantime Alexander was on his way, bowling along in his taxi the length of cricket pitches at a time, from block to block, one red light to another, or shimmering policemen dressed in rubber. Humming, he likened what he saw to being dead and thought of himself as a ghost driving through streets of the living, this darkness or that veil between him and what he saw a difference between being alive and death. Streets he went through were wet as though that fog twenty foot up had deposited water, and reflections which lights slapped over the roadways suggested to him he might be a Zulu, in the Zulu's hell of ice, seated in his taxi in the part of Umslopogaas with his axe, skin beating over the hole in his temple, on his way to see She, or better still Leo.

He did not know where he was, it was impossible to recognize streets, fog at moments collapsed on traffic from its ceiling. One moment you were in dirty cotton wool saturated with iced water and then out of it into ravines of cold sweating granite with cave-dwellers' windows and entrances – some of which he began to feel he had seen before till he realized he was in Max's street.

He thought he had told his driver to go to the station but when they drew up outside Max's block of flats he realized he must have given this address, probably because he had been wondering if Max had really meant to come. He was then all at once completely given over to train fever, his driver did not know what time it was, he rushed into the lift, rang Max's bell, asked Franklin what time it was, found Max had already gone and that it was much later than he thought, ran downstairs because he thought it would be quicker, and, lying back panting, trembling, said to his driver,

'Hurry, hurry.'

'Where to?'

'To the station of course.'

'Which station?'

'For France, stupid.'

As he climbed into his cab his driver said:

'Another bloody one of those.'

All this time Julia and Claire had been sitting by their trunks. They had not spoken of Max again, and this is where Edwards came upon them as he followed Max's luggage. Julia sprang up.

'Oh, Edwards, there you are,' she said. 'Where is Mr Adey?'

'I couldn't say, Miss.'

'Didn't he come with you?'

'Yes, Miss.'

(Edwards had learned never to give information about his gentleman to ladies.)

'Then isn't he in the station?'

'I couldn't say, Miss.'

Claire then took her turn, 'Where did he go when he left you?' she asked him.

'He told me to meet him here, Madam.'

Both girls, as though by consent, dropped it and left well alone. It had come to both of them that where he was now of course was in the lavatory.

Alex drove up, still haunted by how late he was. Getting out he screamed for porters and, when he found one, he told him they must meet again at the registration place, he had no time, he must fly and he rushed off, forgetting to pay his taxi. The driver was at once hysterically angry, called out warnings to everyone near about Alex, said to that porter, 'Wait for me, mate,' drove his taxi nine feet forward to where he thought it would cause more obstruction, said, 'Where's a bloody copper?' and with Alex's luggage, and his porter, also went in under into one of those tunnels and was gone.

So now at last all of this party is in one place, and, even if they have not yet all of them come across each other, their baggage is collected in the Registration Hall. Where, earlier, hundreds had made their way to this station thousands were coming in now, it was the end of a day for them, the beginning of a time for our party.

Anyone who found herself alone with Julia could not help feeling they had been left in charge. Again there was so much luggage round about in piles like an exaggerated grave yard, with the owners of it and their porters like mourners with the undertakers' men, and so much agitation on one hand with subdued respectful indifference on the other that this uneasiness had at last been passed on to Claire. Several other passengers were nearly in hysterics. And as she was used to leaving all her worries to her husband, who had to do everything for her, this was one of those moments when she missed him. She felt almost cross with Julia for being so helpless.

She said to Julia there did not seem to be much point in waiting for Evelyn to come back, they might try to get some of their luggage registered now, it would be such a rush when they did begin with all the mountains of stuff already waiting. Looking up from where she sat she put this to her porter drooping over his barrow. He told her nothing was being accepted for registration on account of there being no trains running as she could see for herself; he seemed pleased, he spat, and then became more despondent.

When once she had put her anxiety into words it was as though she had screamed after having tried not to for some time, when in pain. She might easily have got into the state that woman was in there, whose hat had all but fallen over her face, when she saw Alex waving, waving and smiling to them while making his way. He kissed them both while she was still saying 'why, here's Alex.' He asked where was Max, not here he supposed, and they said of course not. Claire explained how appalling it was they would not register any luggage, but already her fears had left her and she was joking and he laughed and said they never would if they could possibly avoid it, and they all laughed, too, and spoke at once. 'Anyway,' he said, 'they can't surely expect us to sleep here.'