"I never had any objection to George-George-I’ve forgotten his last name. Anyhow, I never had any objections to him, did I?"
"No, but you knew damn well that I did". She said reminiscently, "He was always making speeches about how pure he was…"
"Now, see here, Erica…"
"I know, Charles, I know". She began to laugh and said, "Only really, you can overdo anything, even being pure. And his last name was Strickland".
"Oh, yes, Strickland. Old John Strickland’s son. I wonder what’s become of him? Must be ten years since I last saw him…". He paused, dismissed old John Strickland and back at René again, he said with a sudden change of tone, "I don’t want to see you end up as an old maid, Eric, but after what’s happened to Miriam’s marriage, and God only knows what will happen to Tony’s by the time this war’s over, I don’t want to see you making any mistakes. It’s no use my pretending that they mean as much to me as you do. They don’t. And if you married someone and then he let you down some way or other, I think I’d probably murder him. So far my children haven’t shown much talent for picking the right person".
"Mimi was too young. And give Tony and Madeleine a chance; after all, they were only married two months before Tony went overseas".
"Even when he left, Madeleine didn’t really know what Tony was all about. How could she, after spending most of her life in a convent? I don’t know what’s happening to these boys like Tony in the Air Force, and neither do you or Madeleine or anyone else. They’re going to be something new in the way of a post-war problem. Not that you’d have that to contend with in René, at any rate", he added rather acidly.
"Don’t let’s get started on René again".
"How in hell can I help it with my only son in the Air Force, making the world safe for René to sit at home playing politics?" he demanded angrily. "Not that René ever says anything about it", he went on sarcastically. "He doesn’t even bother to make excuses for himself. He just blandly ignores the whole war except when he’s talking all round the subject and then he’s so bloody smart when it comes to avoiding issues that you can’t even push him into it-apart from the fact that he thinks Tony should have stayed home and played nursemaid to Madeleine, of course, instead of going overseas. It doesn’t seem to have dawned on René yet that Tony isn’t a French Canadian".
"That’s not fair, Charles", she said calmly.
He started to say something else and then let it go. "No, I know it’s not fair", he remarked at last, and got up. "Come on, Eric, I guess it’s about time we gave your mother some moral support".
As they reached the door leading into the upstairs hall Erica said, "By the way, he’s downstairs".
"Who is?" he asked without interest.
"René".
She knew her father and found herself wishing violently that Marc had come with someone else, or at least that they had not got started on René again at this particular time. Her father had always disliked René. She said as casually as she could, "He brought a friend of his, a young lawyer named Reiser…".
"Sounds like a Jew".
She said quickly, "But he’s the most charming person, Charles, I know you’ll like him".
"I don’t usually care much for Jewish lawyers", he said coolly. "What firm is he in?"
"Something and Aaronson".
"Then he definitely is a Jew. I didn’t know René was so broadminded. What on earth did he bring him for?"
With steadily rising anxiety she said, "I told you, Charles-because he’s thoroughly nice and René wanted him to meet us".
"What are you making all this fuss about?" he asked, eying her curiously.
"I’m not making a fuss!"
He went on, "Anyhow, I’ll bet you anything you like that it wasn’t René’s idea".
She stopped with her hand on the post at the top of the stairs and asked, "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean that since we’ve known René for more than a year and he’s never shown much interest in introducing us to his friends before, when he finally turns up with some shyster lawyer, it’s more likely to be the shyster lawyer’s idea than René’s".
The half-sick feeling that she had had when Marc had said so matter of factly, "They don’t take Jews", came back, only this time it was worse, because instead of some anonymous, ill-educated concierge, it was her father who was saying in effect, "We don’t take Jews", and because she was already beginning to be frightened. Marc was still downstairs; he would expect to be introduced to her father, and if there was anything wrong with Charles’ manner, anything at all, Marc would be certain to notice it.
Her father was on the second step down. She reached out and caught his arm and said, slowly and clearly, "Charles, I’ve met Marc Reiser and talked to him. I liked him. I want you to like him".
He came round slowly and faced her, looking into her eyes which were on, a level with his own; his expression altered slightly as he looked at her, and then he said deliberately, "I’m afraid I’m not very interested in whether you like him or not".
They went down the stairs. Erica had made up her mind that she would not introduce Marc to her father; instead, she would get hold of René and tell him to take Marc away at once on any pretext he liked. But it was not to be changed; the pattern had already been designed and laid out, and none of them could change it.
At the foot of the stairs René was standing with Marc, waiting for her, and as Erica and her father reached the last step he said, "Good afternoon, sir. I’d like to introduce a friend of mine, Marc…"
Her father said "Oh, hello, René", cutting him short, then glanced at Marc without pausing and went on.
Chapter II
It was after midnight when Erica got home, having left the house soon after René and Marc. She had spent three hours on the Red Cross story which would ordinarily have taken her less than an hour to rewrite, because she could not keep her mind on what she was doing. From the office she went to the Guild meeting where she heard very little that was said and afterwards was unable to remember who had been there. The Guild was slow in getting organized and every extra person made a difference. She had promised to go, in any case. The meeting broke up late, long after she had finally accepted the fact that nothing could be done about Marc, even supposing her father could be persuaded to do it. It had been quite obvious from the way Marc had said good-by to her, immediately after Charles had failed to stop at the foot of the stairs, that he did not expect to see her again.
There remained the problem of her father and herself.
He was sitting in his pajamas and dressing-gown with an untouched whisky and soda on the table beside him and from the door of the study Erica said, "Charles, I want to talk to you".
Although he had left the study door open so that as usual, he would hear her come in, and had in fact been waiting for her ever since dinner, not knowing what to do with himself, he said, barely raising his eyes, "It’s rather late, isn’t it?"
"I won’t take long".
He knew that what she wanted to talk about was his behavior toward René’s Jewish friend, and he not only had no intention of being put in a position where he would have to justify an action which, so far as Charles Drake was concerned, did not require justification, he was still irritated by Erica’s rudeness when he had last seen her just before she had left for her office.
As soon as he was certain that René and whatever-his-name-was, had taken their departure, he had returned from the drawing-room to find that Erica had gone upstairs. His wife said that she had some work to finish downtown and that after that, she was going to some kind of union meeting. He had hung about in the hall trying to avoid getting into conversation with anyone, keeping his eyes on the landing so that he shouldn’t miss her. It was not that he wanted to say anything in particular, he just wanted to have a look at his daughter to see if everything was all right, and to let her know that so far as he himself was concerned, there were no hard feelings.