(Nobody turned on lights in Lebanon: rather, if there were any lights anywhere, they turned them off, inside as well as outside; and then they didn’t open the door until supplied with some very Price, Anthony - For the Good of the State different and less offensive pass-words.) But this door opened wide suddenly, regardless equally of insult and danger. ‘Yes?’
There was light inside the house, innocent of all precautions. And whoever it was in the doorway, it wasn’t Basil Cole, drunk or sober
—it was a woman. ‘What do you want?’
Audley drew himself up to answer, obviously put off by the woman, and by the coldness and unexpected question.
‘Ah… Good evening, madam—’ Then he seemed to flouder.
The wrong house? thought Tom. But that was impossible!
‘Mr Cole—?’ The great shoulders squared, ambushed but not defeated. ‘Mr Basil Cole—?’ Audley’s voice travelled from doubt to greater certainty. ‘You wouldn’t be by any chance Mr Cole’s daughter-in-law—?’
No answer. But there came another sound from inside the house, as of a squeaky mock-Tudor door opening.
‘What is it, dear?’ The new voice followed the mock-Tudor sound, not so much quavering as uncertain. ‘Who is it, dear?’
‘It’s all right—it’s nothing.’ The younger woman in the doorway threw back her answer harshly, almost dismissively.
‘My name is Audley.’ Now there was nothing soft about Audley’s own voice: being dismissed as ‘nothing’ was plainly not to his taste. ‘David Audley—’
There was a fractional pause. ‘David—?’
‘Margaret!’ Audley threw the name past the younger woman.
Price, Anthony - For the Good of the State
‘Mother—’ The woman tried to hit Audley’s reply back at him, and away out into the evening, but she was just too late.
‘ David Audley!’ Now there was someone else inside the doorway.
‘Why, David—how very kind of you!’ The someone bobbed up and down behind the pearls-and-twin-set obstacle between them.
‘ Mother—’
‘Christine, dear—you remember David Audley?’ The woman behind was not to be denied. ‘Come in, David—you remember Dr Audley, dear!’
‘Mrs Cole—’ Audley offered his hand to the obstacle ‘—actually, I don’t think we’ve ever met. But Basil has told me about you, of course.’
The obstacle winced, but still stood her ground obstinately, and without taking Audley’s hand. ‘Mother, I think it might be better if
—’
‘And this is my colleague, Sir Thomas Arkenshaw, of the Foreign and Commonwealth Office, Mrs Cole.’ Audley swept the unaccepted hand round to indicate Tom, like a general revealing a hitherto masked battery of heavy guns. ‘Who has come all the way from London to see—’
‘Sir Thomas—’ The obstacle had just started to frown incredulously at Tom, but now suddenly cut Audley off ‘—Dr Audley, of course, my mother-in-law has spoken of you, as one of my late father-in-law’s oldest friends—do please forgive my bad manners, Dr Audley—I simply didn’t recognize you—but I’m sure you’ll understand, in the circumstances— in the circumstances—’
Price, Anthony - For the Good of the State The younger Mrs Cole had to draw breath there, but she drew it so quickly that Audley only had time to open his mouth, not to speak, before she plunged on ‘— in the circumstances— my father-in-law’s death was so sudden, I’m sure you’ll make allowances for us—you do understand, don’t you?’
‘Ah…’ Audley opened his mouth again, but then closed it. And then he nodded. ‘Yes, Mrs Cole. Believe me, I do understand,’
“Thank you, Dr Audley.‘ The younger Mrs Cole stood aside at last, to allow her mother-in-law to get a clear view of their visitors.
‘David! And Sir Thomas—’ The elderly Mrs Cole peered at Tom through smudged spectacles ‘—it is so good of you both to come down so soon after poor Basil’s dreadful accident.’ She shook her head. ‘I still can’t believe it’s true—that I’m not dreaming some awful nightmare.’
‘Mother—’
‘It’s all right, dear. I’m not going to embarrass you, or disgrace myself.’
‘I didn’t mean that, Mother. I’m here, is what I was going to say.’
‘And so you are, dear—and I’m very grateful.’ The old lady smiled at Tom with her mouth as she blinked at him. ‘Having family is a great comfort, Sir Thomas. And now I know that his old friends and colleagues care too—enough to come all the way from London so quickly… when I know how busy you all are— ’ She transferred the smile to Audley ‘—although there really isn’t anything you can do. My dear daughter-in-law—who is more like a daughter—has been so good. So you see, you’ve really had a Price, Anthony - For the Good of the State wasted journey, David. I’m quite all right.’
‘I’m sure you are, Margaret,’ agreed Audley gently. ‘And you won’t need to worry about anything at our end. Colonel Butler and I will deal with everything there. But… if there is anything—?’
Audley rolled an eye at Tom. ‘I suppose there are formalities here…’
“There isn’t anything—‘ The younger Mrs Cole stopped suddenly.
’But if you’d like to take Dr Audley through to the sitting room—
the coffee’s just percolated—perhaps you would carry the tray for me, Sir Thomas?‘
There was an edge of command in her voice. But more than that, she was deliberately splitting them. ‘I’d be pleased to, Mrs Cole.’
‘Yes…’ The old lady blinked at Audley. ‘Or perhaps you’d like something stronger, David?’
‘Coffee will do. Mother.’ The cutting edge flashed. ‘Dr Audley is driving, remember.’
‘Yes, dear… of course. Do please stay, David. And I’ll tell you all about it—no, it’s all right… It’ll be good to talk to someone—’
She gestured Audley onwards ‘—it was all so silly— so unnecessary — ’
‘Yes.’ The younger Mrs Cole watched Audley and her mother-in-law cross the hallway, to disappear through a mock-Tudor doorway. ‘So unnecessary—you can say that again!’ She addressed the closing door with cold venom before turning back to Tom.
‘This way, Sir Thomas.’
Tom followed her meekly in the opposite direction. Audley was Price, Anthony - For the Good of the State about to get it all. But he, also, was about to get something. Only his share might not be so palatable, he suspected.
The woman touched the light-switch as she entered the room. For an instant nothing happened, then an overhead strip-light flashed, and flashed again before coming on, reminding him quite inappropriately of the flashing gunfire in the hills above Beirut.
It was just a kitchen: a rather tatty kitchen, styled in the last-word fashion of 1935, with all the attendant mess of a sudden and unexpected bereavement in the house: unwashed breakfast crockery, and innumerable coffee cups on the draining-board.
The woman turned on him in the harsh light: a handsome, yet utterly unfeminine woman, altogether different from his own dear Willy— Willy-on-the-town now, probably with that damned naval attaché—
Mustn’t think of Willy. Must look innocent. ‘Coffee cups—?’ At least he could smell the coffee percolating.
‘Damn the coffee cups!’ she blazed at him. ‘You aren’t the old swine’s “very kind” colleagues, are you? You haven’t any idea of what’s happened—have you?’
‘No. We haven’t.’ It was no good lying to this woman, any more than it was any good lying to Willy. And it was particularly no good because she’d obviously heard Audley’s unwise exhortation to his ‘ drunken old bugger’ and her ‘ old swine’ through the thinness of the mock-Tudor front door.