Pat Barker - The Eye in the Door

‘Oh, yes, come and see,’ Manning said, noticing the direction of his glance.

They went in. A smell of furniture polish and roses.

‘You found a builder, then,’ Prior said, looking up at the door.

‘Yes. I must say he didn’t inspire a lot of confidence, but he seems to have done all right. As far as one can tell.’ Manning patted the wall. ‘I’ve got a sneaking suspicion the wallpaper might be holding the plaster up.’

They found themselves staring rather too long at the place where the crack had been, and glanced at each other, momentarily at a loss. ‘Come and sit down,’ Manning said.

A bowl of red and yellow roses stood in the fireplace where before there had been scrumpled newspaper dusted with soot. No mirror either — that had been moved. The whole room had been redecorated. So much was changed that the unyielding brocade of the sofa came as a shock. Prior flexed his shoulders, remembering. It was almost as if the body had an alternative store of memory in the nerve endings, for the sensation of being held stiffly erect induced a state of sensual awareness. He looked at Manning, and knew that he too was remembering.

‘Would you like a drink?’

Manning went across to the sideboard. Prior, noticing a book lying face down on the floor near an armchair, reached across and picked it up. Rex v. Pemberton Billing . It was a complete transcript of the trial. What an extraordinary thing for Manning to be reading. Manning came back with the drinks. ‘Is it good?’ Prior asked, holding up the book.

‘Fascinating,’ Manning said. ‘I realized while I was reading it wh-wh-what’s actually h-happening. It’s just that people are saturated with tragedy, they simply can’t respond any more. So they’ve decided to play the rest of the war as farce.’

‘I can’t say I’d be prepared to fork out good money for this.’

‘I didn’t,’ Manning said, sitting down. ‘It was sent to me. By “a well-wisher”.’

Prior raised his eyebrows. ‘Really?’

‘Oh, yes. I’ve had several little… communications.’

‘Captain Spencer came to see us, you know.’

‘“Us”?’

‘The Intelligence Unit. I think somebody must have told him the first question he’d be asked in court was whether he’d informed the appropriate authorities when he discovered the Great Conspiracy. So he was scurrying round London informing them.’ Prior laughed.

‘Did he mention any names?’

‘Good Lord, yes.’ Prior looked up and caught a fleeting expression of anxiety. ‘Not you.’

‘No, I didn’t think that, I’m not important enough. Robert Ross?’

‘Well, yes.’

Manning nodded. ‘You say you’re not going back?’

‘There’s nothing to go back to . I went in to check my pigeonhole and… it was like the Marie Celeste . Files gone. Lode gone.’

‘He’s…’

‘Teaching cadets. In Wales. No doubt that pleases him.’

‘Why, is he Welsh?’

‘I was being sarcastic. I shouldn’t think it pleases him in the least. Spragge. I don’t know whether you —’

‘The informer?’

‘That’s right. He’s gone — or going, I’m not sure which — to South Africa. All expenses paid .’

Manning hesitated. ‘I… don’t think you should feel nothing useful came out of that. I showed Eddie Marsh your report and… he was rather impressed actually. As I was. He thought it was… very cogently argued. Very effective.’

‘It may have been cogently argued. It certainly wasn’t effective . She’s still in prison.’

Manning smiled. ‘The point is —’

The french windows were thrown open, and a chubby-cheeked child peered, blinking, into the dark interior. ‘Daddy?’

‘Not now, Robert,’ Manning said, turning round. ‘Ask Elsie.’

Manning’s face softened as he watched the child close the door carefully behind him. His delight in his house and family was so obvious it seemed churlish to wonder if he ever regretted the empty rooms of early spring, the smells of soot and fallen plaster, the footsteps that had followed him upstairs to the maids’ bedroom.

‘The point is that being able to organize an array of complicated facts and present them succinctly is quite a rare ability. And just the sort of thing we’re looking for in my line of work.’

‘Which is…’

‘Health and safety. To cut a long story short, I’m offering you a job.’

‘Ah.’

‘I think you might find it worth while. Since it’s basically protecting the interests of the workers.’

Prior was in no hurry to reply. He had resigned himself, not entirely with reluctance, to going back to Scarborough, to resuming the boring, comfortless life of an army camp in England. At the same time he knew Manning’s offer was one for which a great many men would have given an arm or a leg, and not merely in the meaningless way that expression was normally used. ‘Is Rivers behind this?’

‘No.’

Prior wasn’t sure he believed him. ‘I’m very grateful, Charles — don’t think I don’t appreciate it — but I’m afraid I can’t accept.’

‘Why not?’

‘Sarah — that’s my girlfriend — she’s in the north. I’d be able to see quite a lot of her if I was in Scarborough. And — that’s a big factor. And… I’m not sure how much I want a cushy job.’

Manning hesitated. ‘It does have one very big advantage. It’s most unlikely you’d be sent back to France. Though I suppose that’s not very likely anyway.’

‘Oh, I don’t know.’

‘What rating are you?’

‘A4.’

‘That’s a long way from the top.’

‘With a Board in two weeks’ time.’

‘Rivers wouldn’t let it happen.’

‘Rivers has nothing to do with it. I was given my original rating on the basis of my asthma.’

‘But he’d write to the Board if you asked him.’

‘I know. In fact I think Rivers could be quite eloquent on the subject of my unfitness for France. The point is, he won’t be asked.’

‘How are you really?’

‘A lot better.’

Manning toyed with his glass. ‘What was the trouble exactly?’

Prior smiled, remained silent just long enough for Manning to feel embarrassed by the intrusiveness of the question, then answered it. ‘Memory lapses. Black-outs, I suppose. They do seem to be over.’

‘Do you know what you did during them?’

‘Yes.’ Prior smiled again. ‘Nothing I don’t have a tendency to do.’

Manning became aware that he was looking almost indecently curious, and quickly corrected his expression.

‘How about you?’ Prior said.

‘Mending. It was much harder work than I thought it would be.’

‘Rivers? Oh, yes.’

‘I mean, he’s an absolute slave-driver. And you can’t grumble because you know he’s driving himself even harder.’

A glance of amusement and shared affection. Then Manning said, ‘You sound almost as if you want to go back.’

‘Yes, I suppose I do, in a way. It’s odd, isn’t it? In spite of everything — I mean in spite of Not Believing in the War and Not Having Faith in Our Generals and all that, it still seems the only clean place to be.’

‘Yes. My God, yes .’

They stared at each other, aware of a depth of understanding that the surface facts of their relationship scarcely accounted for.

‘Not an option for me, I’m afraid,’ Manning added, stretching out his leg. ‘But I do know what you mean.’

‘Do you think we’re mad?’

‘Both been in the loony bin.’

‘You’d better not let Rivers hear you calling it that.’

‘I wouldn’t dare. The offer’s open for the next few days, you know,’ Manning said, putting down his glass. ‘I shan’t be seeing Marsh till —’