Реджинальд Хилл - Matlock's System

“What the hell,” he said bringing them over to the others, “if there’s going to be a civil war, I might as well be on the same side as the people I like.”

Matlock gave him a narrow glance as he made this oblique pledge of loyalty, but Lizzie flung her arms round his neck and nearly sent the drinks flying.

“Oh, Colin. That’s marvellous. That’s lovely. It wouldn’t be the same without you. Now it’s the four of us. The same as before. As always. Isn’t it, Matt?”

No, thought Matlock, no it isn’t, my darling, and I doubt if it ever can be again. But it’s better than it might have been.

And with a slight contraction of his forearm muscle he eased back up his sleeve the hand force-gun which the Abbot had pressed upon him the day before. He had not taken it to the Embassy the previous night. Now he would not be without it again.

“Thank you, Colin,” he said as he took his drink, and pushed to the back of his mind the thought that Colin might have noticed the small but menacing arm-movement as he set off across the room.

Would I have fired? Matlock asked himself. Who knows?

But he realized he knew very well and his glass was the longer at his lips because of the sudden knowledge.

It was nearly lunchtime so they made a rapid meal out of the contents of Matlock’s fridge, then settled down to work out a plan of action. As their normal discussion pattern unfolded — Ernst the lover of words; Colin the thoughtful and analytical one; Lizzie the recorder, and the realist; himself the chairman — Matlock began to realize just how conditioned they had been by the environment provided for them for so many years. His own growing uncertainties must have stemmed in part from a feeling of repetitiveness, of substituting activity for action. Now they were finding it strangely difficult to make any headway along the new avenues which had opened up. Ernst and Colin were soon locked in a disagreement which became progressively more theoretical, less particular.

Lizzie said nothing but watched Matlock who sat with a strange and complete stillness that was not unfamiliar. She recalled with a slight shock that this had been a characteristic of his in the days when she first knew him, before his separation from the springs of power had been complete.

Now the wheel has turned she thought. It pulled him under, but now he’s up on the other side, still clinging, and rising again. It’s a long circle to make twice.

Matlock turned his gaze on her as if he had caught her unspoken musings.

I wonder what has changed in me, she thought. And whether it can change back. Whether I want it to.

She smiled at him, but he did not accept the invitation to intimacy. Instead he turned and, in a perfectly normal tone of voice, he cut right through the heated discussion which filled the room, halting it in mid-sentence.

“Here’s what we’ll do,” he said. “We must for the time being come to terms with the Abbot. He is the only contact I have so far with this alleged underground movement whose spiritual leader I seem to be. I do not trust the Scots, begging your pardon, Lizzie. And I cannot know how much we need their help till I have some better idea of our own strength. The only other group we’ve had any positive contact with is the anonymous lot who tried to kill me yesterday. At least my relationship with them is straightforward. ”

“What about Browning?” asked Lizzie. The other two were sitting very still.

“Browning is still waiting for my answer. I’m surprised he hasn’t contacted me already. But he will do soon if I don’t contact him first. I have no illusions about the man — once he knows I haven’t accepted his offer, he’ll carry out his threats against all of us. He hasn’t got where he is by meaningless promises.”

“So what do we do?”

“I accept. Or at least indicate I will accept when I meet him tomorrow afternoon.”

“That’ll get you nowhere, Matt. He’ll have you in front of the television cameras in thirty seconds. Whatever standing or influence you have in these revolutionary circles would be wiped out in a moment. This is something you can’t bluff over.”

Matlock looked approvingly at Ernst.

“You’re right, of course. But I’ve no intention of trying to bluff, at least not longer than tomorrow morning. Browning cannot see me till tomorrow afternoon, he’s opening a trade conference in Manchester in the morning, that’s a piece of useful information I picked up last night. But the Abbot can see me in the morning. We have an arrangement. He foresaw that this might be necessary. We’re going to go underground, all of us.”

They took the news with a pleasing calmness, though whether this was due to the inevitability of the decision or their slow recognition of all its implications Matlock could not tell. Abruptly he stood up.

“Meeting’s over. Go your ways now. Act normally, but stop by your ’phones tomorrow morning till you hear from me.”

“Matt,” said Colin slowly, “you mean we’re going to go into hiding, just turn our backs on our lives? For how long, Matt, how long?”

“Till Budget Day, you fool,” laughed Ernst who seemed to have been elated by the prospect of action. His eyes were sparkling and a smile played constantly around his lips.

“That’s right,” agreed Matlock. “Till Budget Day. Till Browning takes the step which will instantly unite all the forces of discontent, strengthen the waverers, confirm the doubters. He has to do it or the bottom falls out of the Economy. He has to lower the E.O.L. a couple of points at least. Then it all starts, Colin, and we have to be there. This is the only way to make sure.”

Colin said nothing in reply, but his long frame was stooped with melancholy as he unfolded slowly from his chair.

“I see how it is, Matt. I’ll expect to hear from you in the morning. Goodnight now.”

“Night?” laughed Ernst. “It isn’t four o’clock yet.”

“No, it isn’t,” said Colin. “Of course. Good-bye, Matt.”

He shook Matlock’s hand, a formal and uncharacteristic gesture.

Ernst followed him to the door, talking excitedly all the while.

“Matt,” he said, “you’re right to do it this way. This is the greatest thing that ever happened to us. We’ll take Browning apart.”

Lizzie said quietly underneath Ernst’s chatter, “Take care, Matt. I know I don’t need to tell you not to underestimate Browning. If what you say of the man is true, he’ll have every contingency covered as well. Possibly, including this one.” “I’m sure he will,” smiled Matlock. “Off you go too, darling. Buy something for your bottom drawer. You’ll probably be watched, so make it something that would suit a Cabinet Minister’s wife.”

“I wouldn’t know where to start looking, Matt.”

After they had all left, Matlock sat in deep thought for a while. Then he looked at his watch. It was coming up to two minutes to four. He picked up his ’phone and dialled a number. He heard the automatic linkage connect and the buzzer at the other end sound. He let it sound twice, then replaced his receiver.

So much for the Abbot, he thought. This next one requires a little more skill. Carefully he dialled again. “Matlock,” he said shortly when the answer came. A second later he felt the amplified resonance of Browning’s heartiest greeting vibrating in his ear.

“My dear Matt. I’d just about given you up. How nice of you to ’phone. Now what can I do for you?”

“I’d like to see you, Prime Minister.”

“But, of course. Now let me see. Can I fit you in tonight. Or would tomorrow do? Eh?”

He knows, thought Matlock. But he can’t. Remember, that’s part of his strength. Apparent omniscience.

“As you wish, Prime Minister.”