‘Well, I don’t know… I mean to say–’
‘She’s a real poppet. I do want to see her,’ she told Nick.
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Nick tells me you’re a teacher.’
‘Yes, I am. Well, not at the moment.’
‘Oh, I’m sure it’s hard in London. A different sort of place from Herne Bay.’
‘Yes. Yes, it is,’ I replied, a little surprised that she knew quite so much about me.
The door opened and a big man with a jet-black heavy moustache and an unmistakable military bearing entered.
‘This is Bella’s husband, Major Kenneth Singent,’ Nick said.
‘How do you do?’ I said, holding out my hand.
He shook it solidly. ‘How do you do?’ he repeated, taking up the unclaimed glass of wine and saying nothing more.
‘So how are things guarding us all, Major?’ asked Nick.
‘We’re doing our job,’ he replied.
‘I’m sure you are. The Major’s regiment is currently standing on top of the Wall, ensuring none of us are tempted to leap over.’
‘We’re making sure the Americans don’t invade.’
‘Yes, indeed,’ Nick said. ‘Cheers.’
‘I went to Herne Bay years ago,’ said Bella. ‘So charming. However did you and Nick meet?’
‘On the platform at Waterloo Station.’
‘Oh, yes, that’s right.’ She looked at Nick. ‘How romantic.’
‘It has suited us,’ I said. ‘Hasn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ Nick replied. ‘Handsomely.’
‘I’d better get started in the kitchen,’ I said.
We were soon joined by Charles and by Nick’s colleague Sanderson Morton, a neurologist at Guy’s. Over vegetable soup, Morton told us how he had found a Parasite in his department and dismissed him. ‘I’m glad to say that one of my more socially aware workers reported him. I should have informed the Department of Labour, but he had a family so I just gave him his cards and told him to go,’ he said, spooning the soup to his mouth. I held myself back from taking him to task about this man and his family.
Nick followed with a funny story about a woman who had come into his surgery having mistaken it for a dressmaker’s, and we all laughed. After that, we talked about the five-year building plan. Even Charles seemed to open up – perhaps it was the three glasses of wine that he had in him. Morton was expounding on the future frontiers of medicine. I chose my moment.
‘What’s norethisterone?’ I said.
Morton jolted at the word. I thought back to that voice on the other end of the telephone when I had overheard Nick.
‘Sorry, darling, what did you say?’ Nick asked.
Unlike Morton, Nick’s face betrayed nothing of what he was thinking. I wanted him to be off-balance, to tell me the truth, not what he had crafted as the truth. ‘Norethisterone – is that right? Someone called for you today,’ I told him.
‘Who was it?’
‘Just someone on the telephone. Didn’t give their name, said they wanted norethisterone. Is it a medical thing?’
‘I don’t think I’ve heard of it,’ he replied. He turned to Morton. ‘Have you?’
‘No,’ Morton said.
‘All sorts of things being discovered all the time; can’t keep up with them,’ Nick continued.
That might have fooled me once. Not any more, I thought.
‘It must all be so exciting,’ breathed Bella. Her soldier husband continued with his food, showing no interest in the conversation. He was used to straightforward men saying what they thought, direct and unvarnished. He didn’t look for unspoken words. I was looking for them all the time now.
I broke a piece of bread and went back to eating. ‘I thought it sounded chemical. Well, maybe I misheard him,’ I said.
‘It was a him, then?’
‘Hmmm? Oh, yes, a him.’
Charles spoke, glancing between Nick and me. ‘Dr Cawson, have you told Mrs Cawson your good news?’
‘No, not yet.’
‘Don’t keep me in suspense,’ I said.
‘No. Well, I’ve made a bit of a strategic alliance. Do you remember Ian Fellowman, Burgess’s Assistant Secretary?’
‘Yes.’ Where was this going? What had Fellowman done?
‘His usual GP has finally decided to retire, so I’ve put myself forward for the job. The Comrade is considering it.’
‘That would be quite an honour.’ So it sounded like the Assistant Secretary was keeping all his options open. Only Nick didn’t know that.
‘Now you will have to join the Party,’ Charles said.
‘Probably,’ Major Singent said with a subtle but unmistakable note of disgust.
‘Indeed,’ Morton added, decisively tapping his index finger on the table. ‘Health is a public resource, not private. You have to join. The connections you will make will see you through to the top of the profession. You should take a research trip to Moscow. They are making such strides there in certain fields. I cannot tell you how much I learned during my own visit.’ He was becoming animated, clearly getting on to a favourite topic of his. ‘They have found entirely new ways to explain diseases of the mind. They understand now that it’s all down to socialization or the lack of it. You know how I had some experience in psychiatry during the War – it’s related to neurology, of course – but, next to them, British medicine is in the Dark Ages.’
‘I’m sure Comrade Fellowman could arrange for a research visit,’ Charles commented. ‘I could accompany you.’
‘I heard their asylums are full of dissenters,’ I said.
Morton froze and slowly turned to me. He rested his elbows on the table, knitted his fingers together and looked at me over them. ‘American propaganda. A few unstable agitators, no more. And where better for them? It keeps them safe, and it keeps society safe.’
The image of Rachel being dragged out of the room flashed before me. I wanted to tell him that I had seen inside one of these asylums. ‘Couldn’t they be left in society?’ I said. ‘We’re social creatures, aren’t we?’
He smiled politely and raised his eyebrows at Nick in humour. ‘It’s very interesting to have the opinions of women such as you, but I really think this is best left to the professionals,’ he said.
‘Then perhaps you can help me with something.’
‘And what would that be?’
‘Tell me this. What’s it all for? I mean this new psychology.’
‘For?’ His mouth twitched in something that might just have been the start of anger and he rolled the word on his tongue as if it were distasteful. ‘For. Mrs Cawson, I was in Vienna in 1938 to see Sigmund Freud only just escape the country with his life. His sisters lost theirs. What do you think the Nazis had planned for Britain? Can you think for one second where it would have ended? Fascism is built on psychosis – on megalomania. It is the only communicable disease of the mind. And it is a doctor’s duty to fight disease. That is what it is for.’
‘Yes, I see,’ I said. There was strength behind the point and I felt guilty.
Charles changed the conversation. ‘When will you speak to Comrade Fellowman?’ he asked Nick.
‘Not yet.’
‘At the dinner?’
Nick glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, as if he had been keeping something from me. ‘Perhaps.’
‘What dinner?’ I asked.
‘Fellowman invited us to a big bash in honour of some Russians next week.’
‘That sounds good,’ I said.
‘Yes.’
‘When?’
He hesitated. ‘I didn’t think you would want to come.’
‘Why wouldn’t I?’ He looked uncomfortable. It was strange – he was definitely hiding something. ‘Go on, tell me.’
He cleared his throat. ‘It’s going to be at the Brookfield Hotel.’ I closed my eyes and felt the pounding that I had felt the last time – the only other time – I had been in the ballroom of that hotel with Nick and Charles and Ian Fellowman. ‘I–’