Here Be Monsters

'What else did Haddock tell you?'

'Well…' The frown cleared '… he told me to join the school choir, for one thing.'

'He's a Christian then?' Somehow it surprised her.

'No. Not really, I don't think - '

'He's a Welshman. Or his parents were Welsh.' Mr Willis gestured vaguely. 'The Welsh are forever singing. They don't seem able not to.'

'They're forever playing rugger too,' said Audley. 'He said the ways of God were far too strange for him, as a matter of fact.' Gavin Thatcher ignored him. 'He always said he would have expected the Messiah to have started from - and improved on — The Nicomachean Ethics. And then, why didn't He ensure that His teaching was written down straight away dummy2

in Greek - or Latin - so the whole civilized world could understand it, instead of in Aramaic, or Syriac, or whatever? Which was like trying to spread the Good News in Cornish.' He grinned at her. 'But he never said any of that in front of the Chaplain. He liked Old Tank - we all did.' He looked at his watch quickly, and then at Mr Willis. 'I really do have to be going, Wimpy. I'm supposed to be seeing a chap in Cambridge after dinner, about some more venture-money. And it's a hell of a drive from here.' He smiled apologetically at Elizabeth. 'And I don't think I've been much help, either.'

'He steered you into business, did he?' asked Audley. 'He kept in touch, after you left the school?'

"That's par for the Waltham course, dear boy,' said Mr Willis. 'They have a good after-sales maintenance service for their products.'

'The Master advised me, actually, Dr Audley. But Haddock opened a few doors for me.'

Gavin Thatcher bent down to put his glass on the tray. 'And he did once give me one bit of priceless business advice.'

'And what was that?'

The young man stared at Audley. 'It was the last time I saw him while I was still at school, before I went up to Cambridge. He said that in my first term there would be the Freshers'

Match in which rugby-playing newcomers would have a chance to show their ability.'

Audley nodded. 'I remember. Yes?'

'He said I was to forget what he'd taught me. On that occasion only I was to play for myself, and not for the team.' He looked at Elizabeth. 'The purpose of the Freshers' Match isn't victory for one side, or even a good game, you see, Miss Loftus. It's selection. And I was a wing-three-quarter then - do you know about games, Miss Loftus?'

'Gavin, dear boy - ' Old Mr Willis levered himself to his feet again ' - she has a hockey Blue, from a year in which her dark blue trounced your light blue.'

'I beg your pardon, Miss Loftus.' Only his complexion saved him from blushing. 'Then you'll know that no one passes to the wing in such games, of course.' He paused. 'So Haddock said I must ask for my old position, as fullback. And then, when I got the ball in the open, I was to run with it. And if I had to kick it, I was to kick ahead, not into touch -

and kick so high, and follow up so fast, that when the ball came down I would be there.'

'And that, Miss Loftus, is the secret of making your first million before you attain your thirty-first year,' said Mr Willis. 'Right, Gavin?'

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'You are an old bastard, Wimpy!' Gavin Thatcher's eyes ranged from Elizabeth to Audley and back. 'Dr Audley - Miss Loftus - '

'"Silly old bugger" is the majority view. But come on, then - ' the old man shepherded the younger one ' - you must not drive too fast in that big car of yours, and kill yourself. Why do you not have a car like Elizabeth's? Or is it status? Will you have a Rolls-Royce next time?'

Elizabeth knew only that the young man was going, when she didn't want him to go. And the thought pushed her further than she would have gone if she had had more time. 'You loved him, Dr Thatcher - Haddock?'

' Loved him?' The outrageous idea arrested him as he was ducking under the cascade of clematis at the corner of the cottage. 'I was terrified of him half the time - and I hated him the other half. You just wait and see for yourself - ' Whatever other truth he had to impart was lost as Mr Willis pushed him from behind, muttering almost incomprehensibly as he did so.

'"Loved him"! Stuff and nonsense!' The old man disappeared too.

Audley was looking down at her, almost sympathetically. 'Well, Elizabeth?'

'Well - what?'

'Well, you're quite right: hate is akin to love. And you've now had Peter Barrie, and Willy… and that far-too-bright young devil, sucking his high-tech silver spoon, on Haddock Thomas - or the Haddock, as Willy insists on rendering him. So what have you got?'

'And I have you, also. But I have only the ones you wanted me to have, David.'

'True - very true. But then you've got the man who vetted him in '58 - vetted him twice.

And you've got an ex-friend, who lost his girl to him. And you've had a colleague, and newer friend, neither of whom has nothing to gain or lose - one of whom cares more for me than I him, whatever he may say… but who is not about to compromise his principles for me. Which is more than I can say for myself.' He drew in a breath. 'Because if I thought Haddock Thomas had screwed me back in '58, , then I'd be screwing him now - vengeance plus self- preservation, Elizabeth: that's just about the most potent cocktail you can serve, believe me.' He nodded. 'To which now you've added an ex-pupil, my dear.'

'But Haddock still appeared on the Debrecen List, David.' Over the privet hedge the sound dummy2

of the big Gavin Thatcher car interrupted her. 'If there ever was a Debrecen List.' Audley's expression became ugly. 'All I got on Haddock was nothing. And all you've got on Haddock is nothing, too.'

'Including what Major Turnbull didn't give me?' She matched his ugliness with hers. 'And Major Parker jumped off the Pointe du Hoc, did he? Nothing plus nothing, is that?' From ugliness to brutality was only a short step. 'Or did you miss something?'

'If I did, then it was because he was too clever for me - and so was Peter Barrie. And they'll be much too clever for you now, if it's proof you're after - '

'Proof?' Old Mr Willis brushed past his clematis. 'What sort of proof is that? Proof to sway an English jury, than which there is nothing more oblivious to proof? Or proof- spirit? In which case we can now drink something stronger than anything you have consumed so far. And I have a casserole in the oven. So are you going or staying now, dear boy?'

'I thought I smelt something in the kitchen. Staying, Willy. But going long before dawn, as I told you.' Audley sat down again, rather wearily. 'I'm getting too old for this sort of thing.

And much too old to be reminded to know myself. It's far too late for that now.'

Mr Willis sat down. 'You haven't succeeded there yet, then?'

'Good God, no! I look at myself in the shaving-mirror each morning, to check for the tell-tale signs.' He shook his head. 'But when you see the signs, it's too late.'

It worried her to see him like this. 'What signs, David?'

He looked at her. 'What you should be worrying about, Elizabeth, is what you're going to put in your report to your master, the sainted Oliver, after we have visited St Servan-les-Ruines tomorrow.'

'About the sainted Haddock Thomas, whom everybody loves - including you, David?'

'Oh - not sainted, believe me.' He shook his head again.

'Certainly not sainted!' Mr Willis echoed him.

'But everyone loves him.'

'And he loves everyone.' Mr Willis admired his daisies. 'The boys -'

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'And their mothers. And their sisters.' Audley admired Mr Willis's daisies too. 'And their aunts. Strictly out of term, of course. He was always careful that way. And his colleagues.'