A Quiet Life(76)

When Alistair came into the room that evening, complimenting Sybil on her dress, complimenting Edward on his new job, all smiles and dapper gestures, the memory of the night in the Dorchester stirred, and Laura felt the fear again in her stomach, but she kept her composure. She noted how Alistair spoke to her, as if they shared some complicity after those nights of drinking. When Toby said something about the election and the serious mood of the public, Alistair responded in an undertone to her that if the Germans couldn’t close the Dorchester, the Labour Party never would. That was the price she had to pay for making him take her about; his assumption that she was the social butterfly she had pretended to be.

But for some reason she still felt at ease with him; he was full of smiling confidence that evening. His novel had finally been published and the reviews had been prominent, even admiring. She had not liked the book; set in a dystopian future, it had shocked her in its obvious belief that the world was set on a path into misery. That seemed a strange view to take now that the world was in fact emerging from the fog of war. While she was reading it she had wondered, did he see everyone like that, like the people in his book – easily controlled, easily cowed? But now he was charming, exuding warmth and teasing her about the life she and Edward would have in Washington, imitating some American officer from the Dorchester and his belief that America was leader of the free world.

Just as she was laughing at what he said, Winifred came in and Laura got up. She wanted to find out what Winifred thought of her imminent departure, and the two of them stepped out onto the balcony that looked out over the huge square. It was not yet time for the blackout. They could stand there, facing away from the room, into the fading light, and Laura could tell Winifred how grateful she was, how she remembered the first time her cousin had brought her here.

But Winifred cut her off, as though Laura was being too sentimental, and asked her instead if she had read Alistair’s novel. Laura confessed she hadn’t liked it.

‘You see, it’s what I’ve always said – he doesn’t really believe in people’s full humanity. That’s how he sees us, like the regimented idiots in his book – the only person Alistair believes in is himself.’

Laura thought Winifred was being too harsh, but rather than argue with her she asked after Giles, and whether he would be coming by that evening. He was still working too hard, Winifred said, it was impossible for him to get away. ‘He always thinks he is on the verge of some great discovery. I don’t think he will recognise us unless we are plotted on some graph.’

‘No … Does he have a girlfriend?’ Laura realised she had never heard about any relationship of his.

Winifred looked at her in an almost pitying way. ‘You are an innocent. You must have noticed that girls aren’t his thing at all.’ It was Winifred’s prickliness in conversations like these, Laura thought, that did not always make her a relaxing person to talk to at parties, and in a way she was not sorry when they had to step back into the room, as the blinds were rolled down. ‘It won’t be long now,’ someone was saying. ‘Soon the lights will be going back on.’

‘And how boring will that be,’ came a reply. ‘How will we hide our vices when the cloak of darkness is snatched off us? Our nakedness, darling, all exposed again.’ It was Nick, who seemed drunk, even though it was so early.

‘You’re dragging Edward back to America, I hear?’ he said, his attention coming to rest on Laura for the first time that she could remember.

She answered in a serious way, explaining that they were going because Edward had been promoted, turning to him for corroboration, but he was at the other side of the room, sitting on the arm of the sofa, talking to Toby.

‘Yes, yes, I know,’ Nick said as Laura went on talking, ‘he’ll be covering for old Halifax in the land of the free. They’ll work him hard. He’ll miss us, he’ll miss all of this so much.’ They all seemed to be looking at Edward suddenly, but he was oblivious, deep in conversation, his legs crossed, looking so elegant and assured, Laura thought, the old happiness stirring as she revelled in the knowledge he was hers.

Alistair also said something about how Edward would miss London, and then how lucky it was that Edward had lost his Red sympathies after university. Nick grunted a laugh. ‘Bloody lucky he kept his boss sweet, more to the point, even when Halifax was trying to suck up to Hitler before the balloon went up. Edward knows how to keep older men happy, doesn’t he? I remember how old Carruthers could hardly operate in 1941 unless Edward was taking the minutes.’

Then both Alistair and Winifred started talking at once, Alistair asking Nick whether he was likely to go back to the BBC after the war, and Winifred telling Laura she must be sure to send her some American stockings once she was settled in Washington. Laura was not sorry when Nick turned away from them and crossed the room towards Edward. As she watched, Nick walked up to him and trailed his fingers across the nape of Edward’s neck to get his attention. As Edward looked up, he bent towards him, whispering in his ear.

Laura’s attention was now being claimed by Sybil, who wanted her to ask Ann to bring up more glasses, but soon she had had enough of the evening. As soon as she could, she left the room and went up the wide carpetless staircase, into the bedroom with its boarded-up windows where they had lived out the long years of the war. She sat on the edge of the bed, listening to the sound of voices coming up through the floor. She knew she wouldn’t miss the group, this drunken and solipsistic circle, who seemed uncowed by the devastations of the last few years. For a while she felt, lying back on the bed, that she might miss this dark city, this scarred house, the first frame of her love. But there will be more rooms that hold happiness, she thought; wherever Edward is posted will simply be a new frame. We will carry our happiness with us. She held onto that sense of promise as she fell asleep.