Paul Theroux - The Family Arsenal

Murf gave a grunt of surprise. He said, ‘Free?’

‘Free, free!’ said Lady Arrow, raking her thighs with her fingers. ‘You’re priceless, Murf. How many times have you been married?’

Murf shook his head. ‘But I lived with a bird once, in Penge it was. Couple of years ago. She was under-age, and then I was had up — threatenin’ behaviour, utterin’ menaces and —’ He stopped abruptly, pushed at his ears and said nothing more.

‘Young people are so sensible. How I envy you!’ She stared at Murf, then at Brodie. ‘Do you know how lucky you are?’

Brodie hunched and locked her hands around the cushion.

‘Do you?’

Murf wagged his head, neither yes nor no.

‘You are,’ said Lady Arrow. ‘Extremely lucky.’

Brodie said, ‘I won five p at one of them amusement arcades. Fruit machine.’

‘Good for you,’ said Lady Arrow. ‘I do envy you. I’m always going by those places — they look so cheerful and scruffy. I went in once, but it wasn’t much fun. The machines are way down here’ — she measured with her hand — ‘they’re not made for freaks like me. I had to hunch so.’

‘Murf won a free game on the rifle range.’

‘ Did you?’ said Lady Arrow loudly.

Murf sniffed and cleared his throat again, but he did not speak. He saw the woman’s long face smiling at him and he looked away.

Brodie said, ‘Been over to Block B?’

‘Holloway?’ said Lady Arrow. ‘Let me see. This is August — June, I went in June. That was for the Brecht — it went down wonderfully. Can’t you just see me as Mother Courage? All the girls were asking about you — you were so popular. You really must go back.’

‘No fear,’ said Brodie. ‘I hate that place.’

‘But you have ever so many friends there.’

Brodie was laughing, a little girl’s mirth, chirp and hiccup: ‘Back to the nick!’

‘Don’t think of it like that. I’m doing Beckett with the girls now — it’s super fun. Believe me, England’s prisons are full of splendid people.’

Murf said, ‘And bent ones.’

‘That’s just a word they use,’ said Lady Arrow.

‘Straight up,’ said Murf. ‘Mate of mine came out of the slammer with a crimp.’ He looked at Brodie. ‘Arfa — he’s crimped.’

Brodie shuddered and made her goofy face. ‘Back to the nick! No thanks, I’ll stay where I am.’

‘Where are you living at the moment?’

‘Deptford way,’ said Brodie.

‘Deptford!’ said Lady Arrow, tasting the word, as if Brodie had said Samarkand. ‘Deptford!’

‘It’s not too bad,’ said Brodie.

‘Yeah,’ said Murf. ‘It’s okay.’

‘Deptford! Marlowe was stabbed there — in a pub.’

Murf said, ‘Well, it’s a rough area.’

‘Christopher Marlowe,’ said Lady Arrow.

‘I got no time for them pubs,’ said Brodie.

‘Worse than Penge,’ said Murf.

Lady Arrow smiled and flexed her hands. She was delighted, but only her fingers showed it. She said, ‘Deptford is near Blackheath, is it not?’

‘No,’ said Brodie.

‘I’m sure it is.’

Murf said, ‘Black’eaf’s in Kent, something like that.’

‘Shooter’s Hill way,’ said Brodie.

‘I’m going out there some time soon,’ said Lady Arrow. ‘A friend has just taken Mortimer Lodge. Perhaps you know her. Araba Nightwing, the actress? Perhaps not.’

‘Is she on telly?’ asked Murf.

‘She does quite a lot of television, but she’s in a West End play at the moment. Charming girl, very committed, very involved. You must have read about her campaign for banning Punch and Judy shows. She’s going to play Peter Pan this Christmas — it’s quite a feather in her cap. Which, I should say, is a good cloth cap and bright red. She’s a Trot.’ Lady Arrow waited for a reaction, but Brodie and Murf only fidgeted. ‘So many of the actors are, you know — Trots. I say, what do you think of this bomb business?’

Brodie gnawed at her lips, bringing a pinkness to them. She said, ‘Interesting.’

‘Isn’t it?’

Murf glanced at Brodie with a dumb furtiveness and saw her swallowing a smile, pursing her pink lips. He said, ‘Not half.’

Lady Arrow said, ‘The Old Bailey, and another in Oxford Street, and the Stock Exchange. All the right targets. And Victoria, too.’

Murf looked again at Brodie, then lowered his eyes.

‘And Euston,’ said Brodie.

‘No,’ said Lady Arrow. ‘I’m sure you’re mistaken.’

‘Straight up,’ said Murf.

‘ Was there one at Euston? I had no idea.’

‘Blew up some lockers,’ said Brodie. ‘Where you put your cases.’

‘But I have no cases,’ said Lady Arrow. ‘I travel with a carrier bag. I throw in my plastic mac and a bottle of Cyprus sherry and I’m off.’

‘Did a lot of damage,’ said Brodie, persisting.

‘A ten-pounder,’ said Murf. ‘Legged to a clock.’

‘I don’t remember that one,’ said Lady Arrow.

‘June fourteenth,’ said Brodie. ‘Well, around then.’

‘We were doing the Brecht. I didn’t notice — we were working flat out. I can hardly keep up with all these explosions,’ said Lady Arrow, sitting up and drawing in her long legs. ‘But do you know what I say when I hear about them?’

Murf stared.

‘Do you?’

Murf cleared his throat and wagged his head non-committally as he had when she’d said, ‘Do you know how lucky you are?’

Lady Arrow said in her harsh trumpeting voice, ‘I say, “Jolly good luck to them!” That’s just what I say.’ She was silent for a moment. ‘What do you say?’

‘Something like that,’ said Murf.

‘Murf’s got a mate in the Provos,’ said Brodie.

‘Not exactly a mate. More a friend, like.’

‘That’s just what this country needs,’ said Lady Arrow, continuing. ‘A good shaking up, root and branch, the whole business. Oh, I know there are some people who don’t approve of the means. Stockbrokers, people in the City, all the money men.’ She shook her head. ‘No, I’m sorry, but they’re sadly mistaken. There’s only one way to change this old country.’

While she spoke, Murf’s head sank to the level of his shoulders, his ear-ring brushed his collar bone, and he eyed Lady Arrow with keen apprehension. Brodie too, crouched with an expressive alertness, as if she had had a whiff of danger. Lady Arrow was talking fast and as she continued she sat straighter in her chair, gaining height; Brodie and Murf drew away, as if the tall ranting woman was ganging up on them.

‘— They call them murderers, barbarians, assassins, terrorists!’ Lady Arrow threw out her chest and the bracelets jangled on her gesturing arm when, conspiratorially she hissed, ‘Don’t you see? We are the terrorists!’

That ‘we’, so easily given, did not appear to include Brodie and Murf. They watched the woman, waiting for her to erupt again.

But Lady Arrow, beaming with triumph, did not see how she had silenced them. She took the beetle-shaped box and tapped it lightly on the back of her hand, then said, ‘Snuff?’

Brodie said no. Murf still stared.

Lady Arrow lifted her hand and drew the snuff into her nostrils with an energetic snort, working the back of her hand and her fingers against her nose. She gave a slight sob but did not sneeze. She saw how the two were watching her; she said, ‘When are you going to invite me to Deptford?’

‘You wouldn’t want to go there,’ said Brodie.

‘But I would!’

‘Maybe when it’s fixed up,’ said Murf.

‘Don’t do that. Don’t do a thing to it. You’ll just fuck it up —’

Murf’s eyes widened, his mouth fell open. His face then tightened into seriousness. He heard but he did not understand.