Michael Dibdin - The Dying of the Light

‘And how are we this afternoon, Mavis?’ he asked Mrs Hargreaves, who beamed back.

‘Don’t you worry about me, Mr A! This old heart will see me out.’

‘I dare say it will, Mavis. I dare say it will. Although not I trust before you’ve taken the opportunity to attend to the little matter we discussed the other day.’

He gave Mrs Hargreaves a broad wink.

‘I’m giving it a piece of my mind, Mr A,’ she replied.

‘While the rest of that picturesque organ pursues the more abstruse ramifications of unified field theory, no doubt.’

Mrs Hargreaves gave him an arch look.

‘Rome wasn’t built yesterday,’ she said.

Anderson took another gulp of his drink.

‘True. I would none the less draw your attention to the equally well-attested facts that man-or, in your case, woman-does not live by bread alone, and that there is no time like the present. Incidentally it may interest you to know that another of our number has recently taken the pledge, I mean plunge. Unfortunately I’m not at liberty to reveal her name, or indeed sex…’

Mrs Hargreaves giggled.

‘Beg pardon?’

‘”Sex”, Mavis. What people have in at least one sense and occasionally two, although not for some considerable time in my case and yours too I should imagine, but don’t get any ideas. As I was saying, the benefactor asked to remain anonymous for reasons which I am of course bound to respect, although I confess myself unable to fathom them.’

He drained his glass.

‘No, on second thoughts, fuck it. It was Mrs Davenport.’

Rosemary was unable to stifle a gasp. Anderson walked over and placed his hand on Dorothy’s head.

‘We’re all one big happy family here, so I can’t see any need to make a big secret of the fact that dear Dorothy asked to see a man of law last week with regard to changing her sex, I mean will. The details naturally remain sub rosa not to mention in petto, but I can reveal that Letty had to go and round up a couple of villagers to act as witnesses since she and I were ineligible. Make of that what you will!’

Leaving Rosemary staring in shock at her friend, Anderson wandered back to Mrs Hargreaves. He picked up one of the postcards laid out in rows on the blankets.

‘We really should see about getting you a proper pack of cards, Mavis. No reason why you shouldn’t be playing with a full deck in one sense at least, eh?’

He swept his arm around in an inclusive gesture.

‘I don’t suppose a television would go amiss either, to say nothing of a more varied diet. My sister’s cooking can hardly be described as anything more than adequate at best, but I seem to remember that you had Irish stew and tapioca pudding ten days in a row recently, which probably constitutes some sort of human rights violation.’

He sighed deeply and shook his head.

‘Given the necessary funds, there’s really no limit to what one might do in the way of superior amenities and improved living conditions. But although Mrs Davenport is to be congratulated on doing the decent thing in leaving her money to benefit our little community rather than the hordes of ungrateful relatives who can’t even be bothered to send her the odd ‘wish-you-were-‘ here from Torbay never mind come to visit, I was unfortunately unable to persuade her to come across here and now, up-front, in real time. Result, we can’t cash in till she stiffs out.’

He shook his head sadly.

‘How ironic that the decease of our benefactor and dearly beloved companion should thus become, to some extent at least, a consummation devoutly to be wished! How much more fitting, how infinitely more desirable all round, if the cash were to be made available in the form of a long-term, unsecured, interest-free loan, no strings attached, no questions asked!’

He swung round’ on Mrs Hargreaves, arms outspread in dramatic appeal.

‘What do you say, Mavis? Yes or no? What’s it to be? Give us your answer, do!’

Mrs Hargreaves simpered.

‘I believe in burning my boats when I come to them, Mr A.’

Anderson sighed deeply.

‘Very well.’

He looked around, taking them in one by one.

‘But I must warn you-all of you-that unless someone comes across with a sizeable injection of the ready in the very near future, then you will all be facing privation on a hitherto unimaginable scale. There is simply no telling what measures I may be obliged to resort to in my desperate attempts to make ends meet. Certainly this latest tragedy could have been avoided if we’d been able to retain the services of extra staff.’

He pointed at Dorothy.

‘I take it you’ve told them about Channing?’

‘Blood!’ cried Belinda Scott. ‘She said there was blood everywhere!’

Anderson nodded brightly.

‘There was a certain amount in evidence, I must admit. In point of fact the togs I was wearing at the time got fairly comprehensively besmirched-hence the present nifty outfit with its subtle overtones of naphthalene.’

He upended the glass and let the final drop roll into his open mouth.

‘Fortunately the damage seems to be considerably less serious than we first feared,’ he went on. ‘Letty applied first aid immediately, and with any luck the effects will hardly be noticeable once the garments in question have been to the cleaners.’

He sighed deeply.

‘Channing, on the other hand, resembles the proverbial dog’s dinner-as is only to be expected under the circumstances. We’re expecting Dr Morel any moment with the results of Mrs Davenport’s tests. He should be able to give George a shot to put him out of his misery.’

He shook his head sadly.

‘Never try and outrun a Dobermann. It awakens their atavistic instinct to mutilate prey.’

There was the sound of a car drawing up outside.

‘Ah, I expect that’ll be Jim now,’ Anderson remarked.

He gave Dorothy a sympathetic smile.

‘You’ll naturally be anxious to learn your fate as soon as possible, Mrs Davenport. Is the cancer rampaging through your body like a forest fire out of control, sweeping all before it, or is it at present confined to a specific organ or member which might conveniently be gouged out or lopped off? That’s the question we’re all asking ourselves, and I’ll let you know the answer just as soon as Jim’s patched up old Channers. Meanwhile do help yourselves to tea. For your own sake, I would strongly advise you to try and avoid making too much mess. Judging by what I found floating in the loo this morning it’s Letitia’s time of the month, and you know how touchy she can get, particularly after a stressful day like this. Bye-eee!’

With a cheery salute, Anderson walked out. One by one, the residents got up from their chairs and formed a silent huddle around the tea trolley, where Belinda Scott took possession of the pot.

‘Right!’ she barked. ‘From the front, in alphabetical order! Ayres?’

There was an awkward silence.

‘Isn’t he dead?’ muttered Grace Lebon eventually.

‘Miss Scott to you!’ rapped Belinda.

Leaving Dorothy slumped in her chair, her head tilted to one side as though to hear better, Rosemary walked over to the trolley.

‘Roland and Hilary are both dead,’ she said. ‘Mr Channing is confined to his room, so Dorothy is next. As she’s feeling poorly, I’ll take it to her.’

‘No you won’t!’ snapped Belinda Scott. ‘You’ll bloody well wait your turn like everyone else.’

She started to fill the thick, chipped cups with tea, adding a splash of milk to each and placing a sachet of sugar in the saucer. When her own turn finally came, Rosemary took a cup for herself and one for Dorothy and walked back to where her friend sat staring down at the faded floral design of the red linoleum.