Томас Кенэлли - The Widow and Her Hero

Mortmain asked me what I would like. A little gin, I said.

Bravo! Mortmain cried, as if he knew that I wasn’t a drinker. He turned to Dotty. He said, And you? Light of my life, temple of my desire, companion of my mortal days?

Dotty said, Gin-and-it, thank you, sailor. You bloody reptile!

The two men drank whisky, and added a little water from the tap. Then Leo sat and took my hand and raised his glass. Darling Grace, he said, you know I can’t go on with all that palaver Rufus does, but I drink to you.

I sipped my gin and tried to look normal, but as it shuddered through my body, Dotty noticed and offered me some tonic water. That was better. I’ve liked gin and tonic since that day. But it wasn’t to be the only mystery to which Dotty would introduce me.

By the time we got to a second drink, Mortmain announced, To absent friends!

I hope you don’t mean that Irish chancer Doucette, snarled Dotty, her face narrowing and her eyes full of passion. I hope a Number 18 bus runs over that bugger.

Nor did she smile as she said it.

Ahem, murmured Rufus. Charlie Doucette is a sore point in our family.

Dotty shrugged. He is a madman born out of his time, she told me. I hope they’re not filling his mind with rubbish in London. They can dream up all sorts of things behind their desks. They find some eccentric like Doucette to try it out, and expect my husband to go along. It’s just not acceptable. I don’t know where in God’s name you’ve been last time you went…

Rufus interrupted her, and winked, and said to me, Dotty is just saying that out of piety. She knows where we were from her friend the Yank Colonel Creed, who’s quite keen on her.

Dotty took some more gin, shook her head and would speak no further.

Leo turned to me. Dotty… Mrs Mortmain… works for a Yank we know. Colonel Creed. Very smooth sort of bloke.

Rufus said, The Boss gives him a hard time. The Boss has a bit of a thing about Yanks. I have always found Creed one of the better ones myself.

Leo declared, He certainly seems to be trying to work with us now. But better not say any more.

Leo then smiled at me. He told me he had to go into the barracks the next day, and then to meetings, but would be back in the evening with Rufus. Dotty tossed her head. Altogether, she had made a fairly sombre drinking companion, and the more melancholy she became, the more wary Rufus Mortmain looked. It was clear Doucette and the present employment of Rufus himself was an issue of argument between them.

On my way to the toilet, I glanced out of our living room window across the river and the shunting yards to the browned-out city, and on a bench in the parkland across the road, I saw Susan Enright sitting wearing a hat and with her suitcase beside her. I called to Leo to come and see, and the Mortmains came as well. I said, That’s the woman I came down with from Sydney on the train. Mrs Enright.

Not Peter Enright’s wife? asked Mortmain. The poor lady has my sympathy.

What’s she doing down there? Dotty worried.

Rufus said, Obviously she caught Peter with his woman. He lives on the top floor. The almighty Director of Plans.

Leo murmured to me, Perhaps you and I should go down, Grace, and see if there’s anything she needs.

Dotty said, Shouldn’t you leave it to Enright himself? He might be out and she is waiting for him to come back with the key.

She could probably do with a drink while she’s waiting, said Rufus.

In the end, Leo and I insisted on going down together. We crossed the road to the bench she was sitting on by the river, and she turned to see who was coming. Hello, she called with a sort of manic gaiety. It’s Grace. And her gallant husband.

Leo asked could he help her.

No thanks. It’s very kind of you. I’m waiting here till I’m arrested for vagrancy. My husband won’t let me into my apartment, so it’s become a matter of shaming him.

Her voice was high-pitched.

Please let us give you a cup of tea or a drink, Leo suggested.

You can’t sleep here, Susan, I told her.

Maybe I could do an Ophelia in the waters of the Yarra, she suggested. Don’t worry, Grace. I have a room at the Windsor reserved very kindly for me by my treacherous spouse.

Could I get you a taxi then, Mrs Enright? asked Leo

Please, no! I am not your responsibility, young fellow.

We have a settee, I said, as a girl did if she came from the country, where accommodation was freely offered. Ours is the double apartment, number 5 and 6.

Look, said Mrs Enright, you’re both very kind. But you must please leave me free to humiliate the mongrel.

Perhaps because of the gin, the tension of my own happiness, and certainly because of lack of experience, I was suddenly moved to tears.

Please don’t put yourself through this, I begged.

But in the end, we had to leave her there, and were both very uncomfortable about it as we re-entered the lobby. Leo kissed me on the forehead. Let’s go to bed then, he whispered.

Upstairs, abashed at the brush-off Mrs Enright had given us, we said goodnight to the Mortmains, who intended to stay up a little longer. We were half-undressed when our doorbell went. Leo put on a dressing gown and answered it. It was Mrs Enright. I saw her over Leo’s shoulder. She was crying. I’m a weak woman. I will take that spare room your dear wife mentioned.

I found some sheets and blankets, as she stood in the kitchen being introduced to the Mortmains. I quickly made a bed for her on a settee. When I re-emerged, I found that she had been induced to comfort herself with some gin.

Rufus told her, We’ll point Mrs Enright in the right direction. You must be tired after travelling last night.

I was awakened in the morning by the sound of angry voices at our opened front door. Putting on a dressing gown and going to check, I saw both Leo and Rufus in shirt sleeves arguing with a man similarly half-dressed in uniform but very angry. It was of course Major Enright.

Mortmain was saying, You surely couldn’t expect us to leave the poor woman in the open.

That’s exactly what I expected you to do. She would have got sick of it. As it is, you played right into the hands of that mad woman. But you knew what you were doing, too. I know you understood exactly what you were doing.

Leo said he resented the accusation.

The woman had a perfectly fine room at the Windsor, paid for by me. But you look out your window and you think, Let’s make a fool of old D/Plans. In civilian life, you fellows would be little better than criminals, and I know the way you think. God knows what your purpose was in introducing that woman into your flat.

Mortmain declared with the calmest authority, and with a certainty Dotty must have relished, that he and Leo were both married men. I’d knock you down for what you have said, he told the major, except you’re beyond yourself. I ask you to show a little restraint and dignity. We all have to sit at the same planning tables for weeks and months yet, and Colonel Doucette isn’t even back.

Leo, of course, despite his role as an official hero, had a temperament which would go a long way to make peace. He said, My wife has just arrived from Sydney – by the same train as your wife, in fact. I have to ask you not to make a scene, sir.

I felt silk brush by me in a hurry. It was Susan Enright, coming from the bathroom to join the conflict. She took up a position in the middle of our living room, from where she could lob her own high-calibre commentary over Leo’s and Rufus’s heads onto her mad-eyed husband.

How dare you find fault with these decent men! she raged. You’re just embarrassed to be shown up as a skirt-chaser in front of your brother officers. Yes, both their wives are here, and you’re offensive to them too. As for your room at the Windsor, take your tart there and leave me the flat. By the way, any chance of your being sent on a suicide mission? I don’t suppose so. Far too flabby compared to these two.