‘Nick? Did you–’
Behind him, the door opened. A short man with side-whiskers appeared wearing an evening suit. ‘Excuse me, sir,’ he said. ‘This area is for staff only.’
‘What of it?’ replied Nick.
‘May I be of assistance?’
‘You can leave us alone.’ His tone was unmistakable. There was to be no more talk.
The man silently withdrew. Nick just glared at me and shook his head before walking away, back into the lobby. I stood, feeling the cool air flowing in from the door at the end that led to the outside world. I knew I could leave through that door, and I probably would have done, once, nursing my wounds, but something kept me there. Sticks and stones, I thought to myself. And I thought again of that day when I had found her. Of the memories hidden from me.
I followed Nick out. He was talking quietly to Charles, who watched my return through the corner of his eye. Nick caught sight of me too and seemed to relent somewhat. ‘Listen,’ he began to say to me. But he was interrupted by the bell ringing to tell us to take our seats, and we reached a joint unspoken conclusion that the best thing would be to leave things to settle, so we traipsed in without another word. For the next hour we sat watching a frothy farce about a farm girl playing a buffoonish English aristocrat and an equally dim-witted and arrogant American banker off against each other.
Before the interval, Nick’s hand crept on to mine and I shifted my weight so that my shoulder was against his. I felt him sigh. I knew he hadn’t meant to be angry. It was just surprise more than anything else. I couldn’t blame him, really, now that I knew why, and I regretted matching his anger with my own. Yes, it was annoying that he wasn’t being wholly open with me about what had been between him and her, but that was just the world we lived in nowadays.
Still, as I sat there, I couldn’t help but wonder again what had flashed through his mind when he had first seen me. Had some buried hope risen at the thought she was there in the room with him? Perhaps.
During the interval, we went to the bar to discover that the miasma of smoke it enclosed was thicker than the smog filtering in from the street. Nick forced his way forward to get served, and Charles and I waited at the back of the room. ‘Your husband is a very intelligent man,’ Charles said, as we watched Nick’s back disappear between the bodies.
‘Oh, yes,’ I replied. ‘It was what first attracted me to him.’
He tapped ash out into a glass ashtray on the table beside us. ‘I’m sure it was.’
I waited for him to say more, but he didn’t, so I tried to fill the gap. ‘How long have you worked–’
‘And now you’re wondering if you’re the right girl for him?’ I felt my face burn, and opened my mouth but couldn’t make a sound. ‘Mrs Cawson, I’m sure you are not a wicked person, I’m sure what you did this evening was an accident, but it seems to me that you and he might not be well suited,’ he added, dropping the last of a cigarette into a discarded glass, where it hissed in the liquid at the bottom. ‘Sometimes that happens.’
‘I–’
‘Where are you from?’
‘Kent. Herne Bay,’ I stammered.
‘Family?’
‘They died. TB,’ I said hoarsely.
‘I’m sorry, but we all have to live with such things. All of us. There’s a danger that when we lose a family, we try to find a new one.’
‘Charles, I’ve caused you problems, I know.’
He turned to face me. ‘You make it sound like you wasted a day of my time. I received a letter today telling me that I had to move out of my flat within two weeks. It’s being reassigned.’
How much had I set in motion? ‘Is it NatSec?’
‘I should say that’s a given, wouldn’t you?’
I had to. ‘Where will you live?’ I asked, my tongue tripping over the words.
‘They sent me the details and I went to see it – it’s a hostel, really. My own room, yes, but a shared bathroom and kitchen. All filthy. There was a man just sitting drunk in the hallway.’
I felt rotten. The knowledge that it had been a step on the path to freeing Nick didn’t help much – ruin one man’s life to save another’s? It was a hard balance. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I said.
‘And because of what you have done – I don’t even want to know what it actually was – I might never get another job after this one.’ He was right, no doubt. ‘Don’t worry. I haven’t mentioned any of this to Dr Cawson. I can’t because he’s your husband and he’s not likely to take my side, is he?’
‘There are lots of flats that you…’ I trailed off, realizing that I was talking like an idiot. He didn’t want any useless advice; he just wanted me to understand my part in his harsher future. If only I could make up for what I had done to him, but I would probably only make matters worse. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said again.
‘But that doesn’t change anything, does it?’
I turned to watch the junior Party officials trying to use their position to push through the queue, and the young rakes out on the town.
Soon Nick returned with our drinks. ‘Very kind,’ Charles said, as Nick handed out the glasses.
‘I’m sure Charles has been too modest to tell you,’ Nick began, with a glint in his eye. ‘But it’s largely down to him that I’m out of choky.’
‘Is it?’ I said, rather surprised.
‘His connections. He made some calls; I’m sure that’s what got me released.’
‘I doubt it was that entirely, Dr Cawson.’
‘But it must have helped.’ Nick secretly winked at me. He didn’t believe for a moment that Charles’s attempts had helped.
‘Well, perhaps,’ Charles replied.
‘Thank you for that.’
‘Not at all. Although, Dr Cawson, I do believe now is the time for you to join the Party – this might all have been avoided with the right friends.’
Nick looked serious now. ‘Yes, you might be right. I’ve put it off for a long time. But it’s true.’
‘I’m sure it is.’
‘I’ll need a sponsor,’ Nick said. But as he said it he wasn’t looking at Charles. Something was distracting him.
‘Yes, one of your patients, I would say. Would you like me to go through the list?’ He paused. ‘Dr Cawson?’
‘Hmmm?’
Nick was looking at a young man in the corner of the room who was confined to a wheelchair, his legs ending at his knees. There were others around him, but they were standing and talking over his head, and Nick’s gaze took on that melancholy, faraway look I saw when he was back thinking about his War service. The man caught sight of Nick, and their eyes met. They seemed to understand each other. Nick raised his drink to the man and the gesture was echoed. They drank.
‘Dr Cawson? Shall I make some enquiries among your patients who have influence? Discreetly, of course.’
Nick’s attention returned to us. ‘What do you think?’ he asked me.
‘I don’t know,’ I said. I never wanted to go through what had happened to us again, but, unlike Nick or Charles, I knew just how close NatSec had been. They might even have been in our house – the young man with the pebble-like goitre on his neck who had pulled Tibbot and me from the train, perhaps. They would never let Nick join the Party unless it was as their stooge, their blackmailed and beholden puppet keeping tabs on the other members. The Party was said to be rife with those.
‘Yes. Well, go ahead, then,’ Nick said decisively.
‘I’ll make the calls in the morning.’ Charles looked satisfied.
It struck me that three days ago Nick had been in NatSec’s cells; now he was planning to join the Party. All of our memories were becoming shorter.