Anthony Powell - The Military Philosophers

‘Donners has to be looked after too,’ she said. ‘I’m rather worried about him at the moment as a matter of fact.’

‘His job must be a great strain.’

Matilda brushed such a banal comment aside.

‘Will you come and see me?’ she said. ‘We’re going to Washington next week — but when we’re back.’

‘My Release Group comes up reasonably soon. We’ll probably go away for a bit when I get out of the army.’

‘Later then. Is Isobel here?’

‘Last seen on her way to the harem upstairs.’

Sir Magnus had now begun to make signs indicating that he wanted Matilda to return to him and be introduced to someone. She left me, repeating that we must meet when they came back from America. I had always liked Matilda and felt glad to see her again and hear that her life seemed endurable. Widmerpool reappeared at my side. He seemed agitated.

‘I wish Pamela would turn up,’ he said. ‘I shall be late if she doesn’t arrive soon. I can’t very well leave until she comes — ah, thank God, there she is.’

Pamela Flitton came towards us. Unlike the night at The Bartered Bride, she had this evening taken no trouble whatever about her clothes. Perhaps that was untrue, and she had gone out of her way to find the oldest, most filthy garments she possessed. She was almost in rags. By this time the party had advanced too far for it to be obvious to a newcomer whom to greet as host. She had in any case obviously not bothered about any such formalities.

‘Hullo, my dear,’ said Widmerpool. ‘I didn’t guess you’d be so late.’

He spoke in a conciliatory voice, making as if to kiss her.

She allowed the merest peck.

‘I’ll just introduce you to His Excellency,’ he said. ‘Then I’ll have to fly.’

Pamela, who was looking very pretty in spite of her disarray, was having none of that.

‘I don’t want to be introduced,’ she said. ‘I just came to have a look round.’

She gave me a nod. I made some conventional remark about their engagement. She listened to this rather more graciously than usual.

‘I think you ought to meet the Ambassador, dearest.’

‘Stuff the Ambassador.’

The phrase recalled Duport. Widmerpool laughed nervously.

‘You really oughtn’t to say things like that, darling,’ he said. ‘Not when you’re at a party like this. Nicholas and I think it very amusing, but someone else might overhear and not understand. If you really don’t feel like being introduced at the moment, I shall have to leave you. Nicholas or someone can do the honours, if you decide you want to meet your host later. Personally, I think you should. If you do, make my apologies. I shall have to go now. I am late already.’

‘Late for what?’

‘I told you — I’m dining with the Minister.’

‘You’re giving me dinner.’

‘I only wish I was. Much as I’d love to, I can’t. I did explain all this before. You said you’d like to come to the party, even though we couldn’t have dinner together after. Besides, I’m sure you told me you were dining with Lady McReith.’

‘I’m going to dine with you.’

I was about to move away and leave them to it, feeling an engaged couple should settle such matters so far as possible in private, but Widmerpool, either believing himself safer with a witness, or because he foresaw some method of disposing of Pamela in which I might play a part, took me by the arm, while he continued to speak persuasively to her.

‘Be reasonable, darling,’ he said. ‘I can’t cut a dinner I’ve gone out of my way to arrange — least of all with the Minister.’

‘Stand him up. I couldn’t care less. That’s what you’d do if you really wanted to dine with me.’

She was in a sudden rage. Her usually dead white face now had some colour in it. Widmerpool must have thought that a change of subject would cool her down, also give him a chance of escape.

‘I’m going to leave you with Nicholas,’ he said. ‘Let me tell you first, what you probably don’t know, that Nicholas used to be a friend of your uncle, Charles Stringham, whom you were so fond of.’

If he hoped that information would calm her, Widmerpool made a big mistake. She went absolutely rigid.

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘and Charles isn’t the only one he knew. He knew Peter Templer too — the man you murdered.’

Widmerpool, not surprisingly, was apparently stupefied by this onslaught; myself scarcely less so. She spoke the words in a quiet voice. We were in a corner of the room behind some pillars, a little away from the rest of the party. Even so, plenty of people were close enough. It was no place to allow a scene to develop. Pamela turned to me.

‘Do you know what happened?’

‘About what?’

‘About Peter Templer. This man persuaded them to leave Peter to die. The nicest man I ever knew. He just had him killed.’

Tears appeared in her eyes. She was in a state of near hysteria. It was clearly an occasion when rational argument was going to do no good. The only thing would be to get her away quietly on any terms. Widmerpool did not grasp that. He could perhaps not be blamed for being unable to consider matters coolly. He had now recovered sufficiently from his earlier astonishment to rebut the charges made against him and was even showing signs of himself losing his temper.

‘How could you utter such rubbish?’ he said. ‘I see now that I ought never to have mentioned to you I had any hand at all in that affair, even at long range. It was a breach of security for which I deserve to be punished. Please stop talking in such an absurd way.’

Pamela was not in the least calmed by this remonstrance. Quite the contrary. She did not raise her voice, but spoke if possible with more intensity. Now it was me she addressed.

‘He put up a paper. That was the word he used — put up a paper. He wanted them to stop supporting the people Peter was with. We didn’t send them any more arms. We didn’t even bother to get Peter out. Why should we? We didn’t want his side to win any more.’

Widmerpool was himself pretty angry by now.

‘Because my duties happen to include the promulgation of matters appropriate for general consideration by our committee — perhaps ultimately by the Chiefs of Staff, perhaps even the Cabinet — because, as I say, this happens to be my function, that does not mean the decisions are mine, nor, for that matter, even the recommendations. Matters are discussed as fully as possible at every level. The paper is finalized. The decision is made. I may tell you this particular decision was taken at the highest level. As for not getting Templer out, as you call it, how could I possibly have anything to do with the action, right or wrong, for which the Operational people on the spot are responsible? These are just the sort of disgraceful stories that get disseminated, probably at the direct instance of the enemy.’

‘You were in favour of withdrawing support You said so. You told me.’

‘Perhaps I was. Anyway, I was a fool to say so to you.’

His own rage made him able to stand up to her.

‘Therefore you represented Peter’s people in as bad a light as possible. No doubt you carried the meeting.’

She had absorbed the jargon of Widmerpool’s employment in a remarkable manner. I remembered noticing, on I occasions when Matilda differed with Moreland about some musical matter, how dexterously women can take in the ideas of a man with whom they are connected, then outmanoeuvre him with his own arguments. Widmerpool made a despairing gesture, but spoke now with less violence.

‘I am only a member of the Secretariat, darling. I am the servant, very humble servant, of whatever committees it is my duty to attend.’

‘You said yourself it was a rare meeting when you didn’t get what you wanted into the finalized version.’