‘Whose tomb is this?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know, darling. But is it a tomb? It isn’t big enough, surely.’
‘“To the memory of Pug,”‘ he read out, ‘“who departed this life June 24th 1754.” Presumably a young child, though it seems odd to give just the nickname. And to bury it here, or rather not bury it… Do you want to get married in a church?’
‘Well yes, if we can, but perhaps we can’t.’
‘M’m.’
She certainly followed his thoughts at that point. ‘I hear the evensong wasn’t a success.’
‘We had some of the people in for interview today. They said they enjoyed the singing but didn’t know what the parson was talking about.
‘Oh dear. He’s very old, isn’t he?’
‘The attendance at the exhibition of visual arts has been very bad, almost non-existent, in fact, and some of the paintings have been defaced or ripped from the walls. I’m dreading the music recital.’
‘When is that?’
‘Tomorrow night. I wish I knew what we’ve done wrong.
‘You’ve all had something else on your minds.’
‘Yes.’ He spoke without conviction.
‘Is everyone ready for Sunday?’
‘As ready as they’ll ever be.’
Suddenly Nina felt a dreadful incredulity, like a void in the middle of her life and emotions; could it be another involuntary message from Theodore? At any rate, she found herself facing as if for the first time the concept that in a single day the whole world was going to be changed. She was being asked to believe that within a few kilometres of her there were hundreds of respectable-seeming people, including the mild young man she was talking to, who after a morning and afternoon just like any other would start pulling out guns, arresting important officials, occupying public buildings, giving orders. And being obeyed – that was the hardest part. Surely Director Vanag would just smile, shake his head and go on as before if anybody tried to tell him what to do. She started to speak and stopped again.
‘I suppose…
‘What’? What is it?’
‘This isn’t all a joke? There is going to be a revolution?’
‘No joke. Whether there’s going to be a revolution or not is largely a matter of words. By now it looks more as if there’ll be just a peaceful and orderly transfer of power. The important part, the real work will come afterwards.’
Before she could say anything to that her attention was caught by the sight of Alexander a hundred metres away leading Polly up the shallow incline from the churchyard, moving purposefully, not at his more usual dreamy stroll. Nina waved to him and he raised his hand rather stiffly in reply. He was hitching the mare to the little temple when, as though by prearrangement, the figures of Elizabeth Cuy and a brown-liveried manservant of the house emerged from the hall door on to the top of the steps. On seeing Alexander she hurried down them and embraced him with much zeal; even at the distance of the summer-house the lack of real warmth in his response could be seen. Before she had released him he shouted a quite sufficiently curt order to the servant to take the mare to the stables; then he set off towards the waiting pair with Elizabeth unregarded at his side.
‘She keeps coming back for more,’ said Nina. ‘I couldn’t if it were me.’
‘Why does she do it? Assuming you’re right.’
‘It’s funny, it’s as if she positively wanted him to turn her down. I suppose in one way that’s easier than… And even the bad language…
‘What? How beautiful you look. What on earth am I saying? How beautiful you are.’
She was certainly looking her best, happy, healthy and altogether young; there were indeed freckles enough over her jaws and temples but of lines none at all. By some trick of chance her sleeveless dress had been cut right and its two shades of green suited her colouring, which was brighter than ever in the sun. Without a word she stepped up into the summer-house and, out of sight, they kissed. Although he was nothing but gentle with her he seemed to her infinitely strong.
They were sitting on the steps when the other two arrived. Alexander’s expression was curious. It was serious and even troubled but Nina thought she read a kind of elation in it too. Addressing himself directly to Theodore he said,
‘The information was not forthcoming.’
‘Any reason given?’
‘The person who was to have supplied it to my source is proving stubborn. Or so I was told.’
‘That sounds rather fishy, somehow.’
‘I thought so too. Delivery is promised for Friday afternoon without fail.’
‘Not much more than forty-eight hours before we go into action. Fishier and fishier.’
‘Agreed.’
‘Fucking hell,’ said Elizabeth, looking from one man to the other. ‘Don’t try and behave as if we’re not here – I won’t have it.’
The general topic under discussion was clear enough to Nina. ‘You can say anything you like; I’ll vouch for her.’
Theodore said rather wearily, ‘As you’ll have gathered, we were expecting some information that has failed to arrive. There’s an old principle about being kept in ignorance of what you needn’t know.
‘Of course,’ said Nina. ‘So that there’s that much less for you to be able to give away under interrogation.’
‘Or not under interrogation.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Well… voluntarily. Willingly. In the course of duty.’
Nina crossed her arms and clasped her shoulders, frowning. ‘But that wouldn’t apply in this case. In Elizabeth’s and my case.’
‘You never know,’ said Theodore, still wearily.
‘You never know? Are you saying you can’t be sure I’m not one of Vanag’s people? That you’ve no way of being sure?’
‘What way could there be? How can anybody be absolutely sure about anybody?’
‘About anybody. Dear God, what a terrible world we’ve made.’
‘I’ll go if you like,’ said Elizabeth with some violence, turning her head to include Alexander specifically in her audience. ‘I was just passing. I didn’t come for anything in particular.’
‘Shut up, Elizabeth,’ said Alexander; ‘life’s hard enough as it is.’
‘You’ll have a hard life, my lad, about the day the King of England gets to sit on his throne.’
‘We are helping to run a revolution, you know.’ Theodore’s tone now was querulous rather than weary. ‘It’s a heavy responsibility.’
‘I can see it must be. Locking up a few policemen. Very responsible work.’
‘There’ll be more to it than that. Certain persons will have to be killed.’
This was accompanied by a glance at Nina that showed awareness of having contradicted the reassuring forecast he had given her a few minutes before. To her, he sounded like someone organising a garden party who complains of a shortage of good servants. Again she was visited with incredulity: had she somehow misunderstood everything, childishly mistaken a sophisticated game for a serious proposal to overthrow the administration by force? She hoped she was not looking as shaken as she felt.
After staring at Theodore in a parody of amazement, Elizabeth said sarcastically, ‘Killed!’ and gave a great snort. ‘But not by you or the gallant soldier here, that’s for certain.’
Alexander went red. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he said in a shrill voice.
‘Oh yes I do. You haven’t got the guts, my lad. Not for a killing in cold blood, which calls for a lot.’
He said, this time in a furious, rapid whisper, ‘Perhaps you’ll change your mind when I shoot my father.’
‘Impossible!’ exclaimed Theodore, but after much too long a pause to carry conviction.
‘Are you mad, Alexander?’ Elizabeth turned to Nina. ‘Did. you know about this?’
‘No,’ said Nina, still trying to take it in but experiencing only a sense of monstrous unreality.
‘What did you go and blurt that out for?’ Theodore was quite as angry as Alexander had been.