Paul Theroux - The Black House

“It’s a rotten shame,” said Janet. “Why should the government designate this as an area of outstanding natural beauty one year and then put up oil rigs the next? I can’t fathom it.”

“They need oil,” said Jerry.

“There’s plenty of oil in the Middle East and America,” said Janet.

“I mean in Britain,” said Jerry.

“I see we’re divided on the oil question,” said Munday. He smiled at Caroline.

“What about the North Sea?” said Anne. “There’s masses there.”

“There’s none here,” said Janet.

“They say there might be,” said the vicar.

“There is,” said Jerry. “It’s here, all right. I’ve seen it running out of the ground over in Hooke— natural seepages.”

“I suppose you don’t care a damn whether they drill or not,” said Janet to Jerry.

Peter spoke to Munday. “It’s quite a problem,” he said. “People coming down here and spoiling the view.”

“People come down here and do all kinds of things,” said Jerry quietly. “I know you folks like the countryside and walks and that. So do I. But these hikers treat my property as if they owned it, break down the fences, leave the gates open for the cows to wander about in the road. I wanted to put up a cow-pen and they refused me planning permission, said I’d spoil the view.” He laughed. “Never heard that one before.” He had not taken another spoonful of his soup; he continued to talk, toying with his spoon, while the others ate. “There’s not a lot of iribney around here. If finding oil means money and jobs then I’m sorry but I’m for it one hundred percent.”

“It’s pollution,” said Anne.

Jerry laughed again. “The farmers over in Powerstock make fifty thousand pounds from a few acres of pastures and you call it pollution!”

“I didn’t chuck a good job in London to come down here and stare at an oil-rig,” said Peter. “No thanks. I’ll go somewhere else if they start that sort of thing down here. I’ve had all I wanted of smoky chimneys and factory noise.”

“I saw the drilling rig, Mr. Awdry,” said Jerry. “She looks like a Christmas tree.”

“You don’t say,” said Awdry.

“With fairy lights,” said Jerry.

“What business are you in?” Munday asked Peter. “I’m in the building trade,” he said.

“What about planning permission?”

“It doesn’t affect me.”

“Peter does up houses,” said Anne. “And very nicely, too. But I'm biased.”

“Clever chap,” said Awdry. “He gets a condemned building at auction for a few hundred pounds, fixes it up with a council grant and sells it for ten thousand.”

“Not quite as simple and profitable as that,” said Peter to Munday. “But you get the idea.”

“Bam of character,” said Michael.

“Ah,” said the vicar, pressing his hands together and looking up.

Mrs. Awdry was carrying the turkey in on a platter. She was followed by a woman in a white bib apron who had a tray of steaming dishes of vegetables. Awdry carved while his wife and the servant collected the soup plates.

Jerry said, “All this talking—I haven’t had time to finish my soup.” He took a spoonful and held it in his mouth.

“Don’t eat it if you don’t like it,” said Mrs. Awdry. “It’s just that I’ve never had it cold before,” he said, surrendering his plate. “I say, that’s a fair-sized bird.”

“A sixteen pounder,” said Awdry, still carving thin slices from the breast. “Now please tell me whether you’d like light meat or dark. Doctor Munday, I know you’ll want dark—all those years in the African bush.” Munday was angered by the laughter Awdry’s arch comment caused, and he said sternly, “Light for me, if you don’t mind.” The ticking of the mantelpiece clock became audible, timing the silence; Munday relished the pause.

Then Anne Motherwell said, “I saw a rat today.”

“Oh, good girl,” said Caroline.

“Was it a very big rat?” asked Janet.

“Average size I suppose,” said Anne. “I’d never seen one before.”

“I hate rats,” said Emma. It was the first thing she had spoken and everyone waited for her to say more. She put her head down and stared at the plate that had been handed to her.

“There is something sexual about rats,” said Caroline. “I think I know why.”

“Do tell us,” said Michael.

“Perhap when you’re a bit older,” said Caroline.

“We had one at the camp,” said Munday. “Right inside the bungalow.”

Emma said, “We never did!” and Munday realized that what he had just said so easily to all those people, he had never told Emma. He was going to reply, but Jerry had already started.

“Used to be a lot of rats around here,” he said, passing a plate heaped with turkey. “Why, I seen more rats in one little place than you see now in five acres. Caught thirty of the buggers one night.”

“I’ve been ratting myself many times,” said Awdry. “Not enough of them for that now,” said Jerry. “After the rabbits went down with myxomatosis, the weasels and foxes had nothing to eat, so they started feeding on the rats.”

“I was six or seven,” said Awdry, “and I was going for a walk with my father. He was a great walker— five miles before breakfast—he gave me my first walking stick. We were on a country lane in South Worcestershire and suddenly he put his hand on my shoulder and said, ‘Wait!’ I looked up and couldn’t believe my eyes. The road was absolutely black with rats, jostling this way and that. ‘Don’t you move,’ he said. ‘They’re migrating.’ ”

“That thatcher from Filford,” said Jerry. “He was coming up the road one night and a whole mob of rats was crossing the road. Maybe migrating, like Mr. Awdry says. Knocked him down and the bike too!”

“Scrumpy knocked him down more likely,” said Awdry.

“I remember him,” said Mrs. Awdry. “He’s dead now. He thatched for us over at the cottages—up on the ladder with a keg of cider around his neck. Queer old fellow.”

“You must find all of this fascinating,” said Caroline to Munday.

“I do,” said Munday. “Very much so.”

“Doctor Munday is studying us,” said Anne.

“Not exactly,” said Munday. “Though I think someone ought to.”

“It must be very exciting to come back to England after all these years.”

“Exciting?” said Munday.

“Seeing all the changes.”

“The changes I saw weren’t in England,” said Munday, “though it’s true I’m still baffled by the new money, and sick of these television programs perpetually discussing things and ending the show when someone loses his temper. And football results. And God, these color supplements—we never got them in Africa—too heavy to airfreight.”

“We decorated our loo with color supplements,” said Anne.

“They represent everything I loathe about this country,” said Munday. “Everything they stand for, I despise. Isn’t that right, Emma?”

“What’s that?” Emma stared vacantly at Munday.

“Are you all right, my dear?” asked Awdry.

“I’m afraid I’m not feeling terribly well,” said Emma.

“All this talk about rats,” said Mrs. Awdry. “I’m not surprised.”

“Would you mind if I went into the living room and sat down?” said Emma.

“Please do,” said Mr. Awdry. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, no,” said Emma. “Don’t get up.” She rose and went out of the room before anyone could help her.

“Has this happened before?” asked Awdry.

“I think we should call a doctor,” said Janet. “She looks very pale.”

“Hadn’t you better go and see if there’s anything she needs?” said Mrs. Awdry to Munday.