Muriel Spark - The Ballad of Peckham Rye

‘Why did he call you Mr Dougal?’ Merle said. ‘Because he’s my social inferior. Formerly a footman in our family.’

‘What’s he now?’

‘One of my secret agents.’

‘You’ll send me mad if I let you. Look what you’ve done to Weedin. You’re driving Mr Druce up the wall.’

‘I have powers of exorcism,’ Dougal said, ‘that’s all.’

‘What’s that?’

‘The ability to drive devils out of people.’

‘I thought you said you were a devil yourself.’

‘The two states are not incompatible. Come to the police station.’

‘Where are we going, Dougal?’

‘The police station. I want to see the excavation.’ He took her into the station yard where he had already made himself known as an interested archaeologist. By the coal-heap was a wooden construction above a cavity already some feet deep. Work had stopped for the weekend. They peered inside.

‘The tunnel leads up to Nunhead,’ Dougal said, ‘the nuns used to use it. They packed up one night over a hundred years ago, and did a flit, and left a lot of debts behind them.’

A policeman came up to them with quiet steps and, pointing to the coal-heap, said, ‘The penitential cell stood in that corner. Afternoon, sir.’

‘Goodness, you gave me a fright,’ Merle said. There’s bodies of nuns down there, miss,’ the policeman said.

Merle had gone home to await Mr Druce. Dougal walked up to Costa’s Café in the cool of the evening. Eight people were inside, among them Humphrey and Dixie, seated at a separate table eating the remains of sausage and egg. Humphrey kicked out a chair at their table for Dougal to sit down upon. Dixie touched the corners of her mouth with a paper napkin, and carefully picking up her knife and fork, continued eating, turning her head a little obliquely to receive each small mouthful. Humphrey had just finished. He set down his knife and fork on the plate and pushed the plate away. He rubbed the palms of his hands together twice and said to Dougal,

‘How’s life?’

‘It exists,’ Dougal said, and looked about him.

‘You had a distinguished visitor this afternoon. But you’d just gone out. The old lady was out and I answered to him. He wouldn’t leave his name. But of course I knew it. Mr Druce of Meadows Meade. Dixie pointed him out to me once, didn’t you, Dixie?’

‘Yes,’ Dixie said.

‘He followed me all over the Rye, so greatly did Mr Druce wish to see me,’ Dougal said.

‘If I was you,’ Humphrey said, ‘I’d keep to normal working hours. Then he wouldn’t have any call on you Saturday afternoons – would he, Dixie?’

‘I suppose not,’ Dixie said.

‘Coffee for three,’ Dougal said to the waiter.

‘You had another visitor, about four o’clock,’ Humphrey said. ‘I’ll give you a clue. She had a pot of flowers and a big parcel.’

‘Elaine,’ Dougal said.

The waiter brought three cups of coffee, one in his right hand and two – one resting on the other – in his left. These he placed carefully on the table. Dixie’s slopped over in her saucer. She looked at the saucer.

‘Swap with me,’ Humphrey said.

‘Have mine,’ Dougal said.

She allowed Humphrey to exchange his saucer with hers. He tipped the contents of the saucer into his coffee, sipped it, and set it down.

‘Sugar,’ he said.

Dougal passed the sugar to Dixie.

She said, ‘Thank you.’ She took two lumps, dropped them in her coffee, and stirred it, watching it intently.

Humphrey put three lumps in his coffee, stirred it rapidly, tasted it. He pushed the sugar bowl over to Dougal, who took a lump and put it in his mouth.

‘I let her go up to your room,’ Humphrey said. ‘She said she wanted to put in some personal touches. There was the pot of flowers and some cretonne cushions. The old lady was out. I thought it nice of Elaine to do that -wasn’t it nice, Dixie?’

‘Wasn’t what nice?’

‘Elaine coming to introduce feminine touches in Dougal’s room.’

‘I suppose so.’

‘Feeling all right?’ Humphrey said to her.

‘I suppose so.’

‘Do you want to go on somewhere else or do you want to stay here?’

‘Anything you like.’

‘Have a cake.’

‘No thank you.’

‘Why does your brother go hungry?’ Dougal said to her.

‘Whose brother goes hungry?’

‘Yours. Leslie.’

‘What you mean, goes hungry?’

‘He came round scrounging doughnuts off my landlady the other day,’ Dougal said.

Humphrey rubbed the palms of his hands together and smiled at Dougal. ‘Oh, kids, you know what they’re like.’

‘I won’t stand for him saying anything against Leslie,’ Dixie said, looking round to see if anyone at the other tables was listening. ‘Our Leslie isn’t a scrounger. It’s a lie.’

‘It is not a lie,’ Dougal said.

‘I’ll speak to my stepdad,’ Dixie said. ‘I should,’ Dougal said.

‘What’s a doughnut to a kid?’ Humphrey said to them both. ‘Don’t make something out of nothing. Don’t start.’

‘Who started?’ Dixie said.

‘You did, a matter of fact,’ Humphrey said, ‘with your bad manners. You could hardly say hallo to Dougal when he came in.’

‘That’s right, take his part,’ she said. ‘Well, I’m not staying here to be insulted.’

She rose and picked up her bag. Dougal pulled her down to her chair again.

‘Take your hand off me,’ she said, and rose. Humphrey pulled her down again. She remained seated, looking ahead into the far distance.

‘There’s Beauty just come in,’ Dougal said. Dixie turned her head to see Beauty. Then she resumed her fixed gaze.

Dougal whistled in Beauty’s direction.

‘I shouldn’t do that,’ Humphrey said.

‘My God, he’s supposed to be a professional man,’ Dixie said, ‘and he opens his mouth and whistles at a girl.’

Dougal whistled again.

Beauty raised her eyebrows.

‘You’ll have Trevor Lomas in after us,’ Humphrey said. The waiter and Costa himself came and hovered round their table.

‘Come on up to the Harbinger,’ Dougal said, ‘and we’ll take Beauty with us.’

‘Now look. I quite like Trevor,’ Humphrey said. ‘He’s to be best man at our wedding,’ Dixie said. ‘He’s got a good job with prospects and sticks in to it.’

Dougal whistled. Then he called across two tables to Beauty, ‘Waiting for somebody?’

Beauty dropped her lashes. ‘Not in particular,’ she said.

‘Coming up to the Harbinger?’

‘Don’t mind.’

Dixie said, ‘Well, I do. I’m fussy about my company.’

‘What she say?’ Beauty said, jerking herself upright in support of the question.

‘I said,’ said Dixie, ‘that I’ve got another appointment.’

‘Beauty and I will be getting along then,’ Dougal said. He went across to Beauty who was preparing to comb her hair.

Humphrey said. ‘After all, Dixie, we’ve got nothing else to do. It might look funny if we don’t go with Dougal. If Trevor finds out he’s been to a pub with his girl -‘

‘You’re bored with me – I know,’ Dixie said. ‘My company isn’t good enough for you as soon as Dougal comes on the scene.’

‘Such compliments as you pay me!’ Dougal said across to her.

‘I was not aware I was addressing you,’ Dixie said. ‘All right, Dixie, we’ll stop here,’ Humphrey said. Dougal was holding up a small mirror while the girl combed her long copper-coloured hair over the table.

Dixie’s eyes then switched over to Dougal. She gave a long sigh. ‘I suppose we’d better go to the pub with them,’ she said, ‘or you’ll say I spoiled your evening.’