Quiggin, possibly under the influence of Ada, had now for the most part abandoned his immediately post-war trappings suggesting he had just come in from skirmishing with a sten-gun in the undergrowth, though traces remained in a thick grey shirt. On the whole he had settled for a no-nonsense middle-aged intellectual’s style of dress, a new suit in dark check and bow tie, turn-out better suited to his station as an aspiring publisher. Ada was laughing at what they were reading, Quiggin less certain that he was finding the contribution funny. He had taken his hands from the jacket pockets of the check suit, and was straightening the lapels rather uneasily.
‘There’s going to be a row,’ said Ada.
She was pleased rather than the reverse by that prospect. Quiggin himself seemed not wholly displeased, though his amusement was combined with anxiety, which the Sweetskin case was sufficient to explain. An extract from Ada’s own novel was to be included in this current number. Her work in progress had not yet been given a tide, but it was billed as ‘daring’, so that in the cold light of print Quiggin might fear the police would now step in where Fission too was concerned.
‘Are you going to be prosecuted, Ada?’
‘I was laughing at X’s piece. Read this.’
She handed me a copy of the magazine. It was open at Widmerpool’s article Assumptions of Autarchy v. Dynamics of Adjustment. Since she had indicated Trapnel’s piece as the focus of interest, I turned back to the list of contents to find the page. Ada snatched it from me.
‘No, no. Where I gave it you.’
Another glance at the typeface showed what she meant. The page that at first appeared to be the opening of Widmerpool’s routine article on politics or economics — usually a mixture of both — was in fact a parody of Widmerpool’s writing by Trapnel. I sat down the better to appreciate the pastiche. It was a little masterpiece in its way. Trapnel’s ignorance of matters political or economic, his total lack of interest in them, had not handicapped the manner in which he caught Widmerpool’s characteristic style. If anything that ignorance had been an advantage. The gibberish, interspersed with double ententes, was entirely convincing.
‘I do not assert … a convincing lead … cyclical monopoly resistance… the optimum factor …’
This was Bagshaw taking the bit between his teeth. However one looked at it, that much was clear. In the course of arranging subjects for Trapnel’s parodies he had certainly included contributors to Fission before now. Alaric Kydd was not, as it happened, one of these, being somewhat detached from the Fission genre of writer, but Evadne Clapham, represented by a short story in the first number, had been one of Trapnel’s victims. Always excitable, she had at first talked of a libel action. Bagshaw had convinced her finally that only the most talented of writers were amenable to parody, and she had forgiven both himself and Trapnel. All this was in line with Bagshaw’s taste for sailing near the wind, whatever he did, but he had never spoken of setting Trapnel to work on Widmerpool. That was certainly to expose himself to danger. The temptation to do so, once the idea had occurred to an editor of Bagshaw’s temperament, would, on the other hand, be a hard one to resist.
If, in the light of his business connexions with the publishing firm and the magazine, it were risky to parody Widmerpool, Widmerpool’s lack of respect for Bagshaw’s abilities as an editor did not make the experiment any less hazardous. For the parody to appear in print at this moment would certainly liven the mixture with new unforeseen fermentations. It was equally characteristic of Bagshaw to be away from the office at such a juncture. Quiggin himself certainly grasped that, at a moment when lurid theories about the elopement were giving place to acceptance of the Widmerpool version, there was a danger of a severe setback for such an interpretation of the story. He saw that circumstances were so ominous that the only thing to do was to claim the parody as a victory rather than a defeat.
‘You have to look at things all ways. Kenneth Widmerpool is taking the line that no catastrophic break in his married life is threatened. Whether or not that is true, we have no reliable evidence how far, if at all, Trapnel is involved. In a sense, therefore, a good-natured burlesque by X of Kenneth’s literary mannerisms suggests friendly, rather than unfriendly, relations.’
‘Good-natured?’
Quiggin looked at Ada severely, but not without a suggestion of desire.
‘Parodies are intended to raise a laugh. Perhaps you did not know that, Ada. If someone had taken the trouble to show me the piece before it was printed, I might have done a little sub-editing here and there. I don’t promise it would have improved the whole, so perhaps it was better not.’
This speech indicated that Widmerpool might not have it all his own way, if he made too much fuss. It also confirmed indirectly the resentment of Widmerpool’s domination that, according to Bagshaw, Quiggin had begun increasingly to show. Judy, the secretary, feeling that some of these recriminations were directed against herself, or, more probably envious of the attention Quiggin was devoting to Ada, now began to protest.
‘How on earth was I to know one man had run away with the other man’s wife? Books just handed the copy over to me, saying he had a temperature of a hundred-and-two, and told me to get on with the job.’
‘Grown-up people always check on that particular point, my girl,’ said Quiggin. ‘Don’t worry. We’re not blaming you. Calm down. Take an aspirin. Isn’t it time for coffee? I admit I could have done without Bagshaw arranging this just at the moment the Sweetskin case is coming on, and all the to-do about Sad Majors.
I enquired as to Quiggin’s version of the Stevens trouble.
‘Odo’s written an excellent account of his time with the Partisans. Adventurous, personal, but a lot of controversial matter. Readers don’t want controversy. Why should they? Besides, it would be awkward for the firm to publish a book hinting some of the things Odo’s does, with Kenneth Widmerpool on the board. All his support for societies trying to promote good relations with that very country. You want to keep politics out of a book like that.’
‘Odo isn’t very interested in politics, is he?’
‘Not in a way, but he’s very obstinate.’
I left them still in a flutter about the parody. There was not much Widmerpool could do. It would increase his opposition to Bagshaw, but Bagshaw probably had a contract of some sort. At the end of that, if the magazine survived, Widmerpool was likely to try and get him sacked anyway. It was a typical Bagshaw situation. Meanwhile, he showed no sign of returning to the office. The message came that his flu was no better. Some evenings later there was a telephone call at home. A female voice asked for me.
‘Speaking.’
‘It’s Pamela Widmerpool.’
‘Oh, yes?’
She must have known I was answering, but for some reason of her own preferred to go through the process of making absolutely sure.
‘X is not well.’
‘ I’m very sorry —’
‘I want you to come and see him. He needs some books and things.’
‘But — ’
‘It’s really the only way — for you to come yourself.’
She spoke the last sentence irritably, as if the question of my bringing Trapnel aid in person had already arisen in the past, and, rather contemptibly, I had raised objections to making myself available. Now, it seemed, I was looking for a similar excuse again. She offered no explanation or apology for thus emerging as representative of the Trapnel, rather than Widmerpool, ménage. In taking on the former position there was not the smallest trace of self-consciousness.