`We should be asking you that!' said Rose.
Gerard, alone in Levquist's rooms, where the curtains were still pulled against the light, looked gloomily at the chaotic scene, used glasses and empty bottles perched everywhere, on the mantelpiece, on the chairs, on the tables, on the bookcases, on the floor. How can we have used so many glasses, he thought. Of course one loses one's glass oftener and oftener as the evening goes on! And damn it, there are no sandwiches left, or only one and it hasn't got any cucumber in it. He ate the limp piece of bread, then poured himself' out some champagne. He was tired of the stuff, but there was nothing else to drink. Jenkin had claimed to have hidden a bottle of whisky in Levquist's bedroom 'for later', only Gerard did not feel strong enough to search for it. He fervently hoped that Levquist's scout would be able to clear up the mess before Levquist returned after breakfast. He must remember to tip the man. Then lie recalled with anguish that he had, in the electric storm of his visit to Levquist, forgotten to thank him for the loan of the room, a notable privilege since other distinguished old pupils were certainly also in the field. He began to plan a gracefully apologetic letter. Levquist would of course have observed the omission and probably derived malicious pleasure from it. He then reflected upon the interesting fact that ever since 'that business', now so far in the past, Levquist had never, in meetings with Gerard or Jenkin, mentioned Crimond's name, although he usually referred to the others, and Crimond too had been his pupil and one of the group. Someone must have told him. Gerard then wondered, not for the first time, whether Crimond kept up any sort of friendship with Levquist. Perhaps he had been to see him this very evening! How horrible, how somehow poisonous it was, Crimond being here. Gerard shared Rose's reaction of: how dare he! To which.jenkin had rationally replied: why not? But dancing wittijean… Gerard had noticed with displeasure how the whole episode, in so far as it could be called that, seemed to have excited Jenkin. Gerard found it shocking, sickening, thoroughly ill-omcned and bad. He wondered if he were drunk, then, how drunk he was. The telephone rang. He lifted the receiver. 'Hello.'
`Could I speak to Mr Hernshaw, if he's there?'
`Pat -'
`Oh Gerard – Gerard – he's gone -'
Gerard reassembled his thoughts. His father was dead.
`Gerard, are you still there?'
`Yes.'
`He's died. We didn't expect it, did we, the doctor didn't say – it just happened – so – suddenly – he – and he was dead -'
`Are you alone?'
`Yes, of course! It's five o'clock in the morning! Who do you think I could get to be with me?'
`When did he die?'
`Oh – an hour ago – I don't know -'
Gerard thought, what was I doing then? 'And were you with him -?'
`Yes! I was asleep with the doors open – about one or so I heard him moaning and I went in and he was sitting up and -and mumbling in a ghastly high voice, and he kept jerking his arms and staring all round the room, and he wouldn't look at me – and he was white, as white as the wall, and his lips were white – and I tried to give him a pill but – I tried to make him lie back, I wanted him to sleep again, I thought if he can only rest, if he can only sleep – and then his breathing – became so awful -'
`Oh God,' said Gerard.
`All right, you don't want to know – I've been trying to get hold of you for ages, ever since, the porter kept telephoning various rooms, I just got a lot of drunks. Are you drunk? You sound as if you are.'
`Possibly.' He thought, of course Levquist has no telephone over there – but that was earlier anyway – what was I doing? Watching Crimond dance? Poor Patricia. He said, 'Bear up, Pat.'
‘You are drunk. Of course I'm bearing up. What else can I do just half mad with grief and misery and shock and I'm all by myself-‘
‘You’d better go to bed.'
‘I can’t. How long will it take you to get here, an hour?'
‘I can do it in an hour,' said Gerard, 'or less, but I can't immediately.'
’Why ever not?’
‘I’ve got a lot of people here, I can't just leave them, I can't go without telling them and God knows where they all are at the moment.’ He thought, I can't go without seeing Duncan. `your father's dead and you want to stay on dancing with your drunken friends.'
’I’ll Come soon,' said Gerard, 'I J ust can't come at once, I'm sorry.
Patricia put down the receiver.
Gerard sat with closed eyes in the silence that followed.Then he started saying, 'Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God', and his face in his hands and panted and moaned. Of course he had known it was coming, he had calmly mentioned it to Levquist, but this was unlike anything which cowardly imagination could have schooled him with beforehand. He had known what he did not will to imagine, the fact, the irrevocable fact. Love, old love, sensibilities and dimensions and powers of love which he had forgotten or never recoggnized, came speeding in from all the far-spread regions of his being, hotwith Pertin, crying and wailing with the agony of that
severance. Never to speak to his father again, to see his smiling welcoming face, to be happy in his happiness, to experience the absolute comfort of his love. He felt remorse, not because he had been a bad son, he had not, but because he was no longer and there was still so much to say. A place wherein he himself was as in no other place had been struck out of the world. Oh my father, oh my father, oh my dear father.
He heard steps upon the stairs and hastily rose to his feet and robed his face although there were no tears on it. He turned, calm gaze to the door. It was Jenkin.
Gerard decided instantly not to tell Jenkin about his father. He would tell him later when they were driving back together to London. He did not want to start to tell and then be interrupted by one of the others. Better to say nothing. Jenkin would understand.
Jenkin, who constantly read Gerard's mind, had been aware that Gerard disapproved of what he might have thought of as Jenkin's excitement, even glee, at the little bit of drama promised by the evening. He also felt that Gerard had thought poorly of Jenkin's appreciation of Crimond's flying kilt. Jenkin was bothered too by his gaucherie with Rose, his inability to dance well, and his abrupt dismissal of her question. He too was not at all sure how drunk he was. When Rose declined the next dance saying she was tired, Jenkinmade a quick circuit looking for Duncan but did not find him. He pursued a white-clad figure who looked like Tamar, but who vanished on his approach. Tamar had by this time finished her dance with Duncan and been sent away by him with a vague, 'Well, off you go, and enjoy yourself.' She did not feel any urge or duty to stay with him, he was clearly very drunk and either did not want her to continue seeing him in this condition or had quite forgotten that she had no partner. She started to walk about aimlessly in conspicuous spaces hoping that someone she knew would see her. About the cashmere shawl, she had given up hope, perhaps someone had stolen it.
Gerard, who constantly read Jenkin's mind, was aware of the little cloud that hung over his friend and hastened to dispel it. 'My dear fellow, do you think you could find the whisky you alleged you hid? I'm fed up with this stuff.'
They went into Levquist's neat student-like bedroom with its narrow iron bedstead and washstand with basin, water jug, and soap dish, and Jenkin began foraging in Levquist's bedclothes. The bottle of whisky was found, and a carafe of water on the bedside table, handy because there was of course no bathroom or running water. Gerard tidied the bed. They took these trophies back into the main room and dosed two champagne glasses with whisky.