Alec shot a glance at Bunny and said swiftly, “Yes, well, we know under the social system the women were illiterates in semi-purdah, and most of the men were bisexual from choice. Hence Socrates, though probably not Plato. I think that supports my argument rather than yours.” His concern for the debate had something perfunctory about it.
“All right,” said Ralph rather thickly. “They were tolerant in Greece and it worked. But, Christ, there was something a bit different to tolerate. There was a standard; they showed the normal citizen something. There was Aris—” He stuck on the name; either he couldn’t pronounce it or he didn’t remember it. He looked at Laurie, as if he were issuing an order.
“Aristogeiton,” Laurie said.
“And the Sacred Band. In fact they took on the obligations of men in their friendships instead of looking for bluebirds in a fun-fair; and if they didn’t, they bloody well weren’t tolerated, and a good job too.”
Laurie didn’t realize how completely Bunny had been forgotten until he moved. He had been sitting on a tartan divan with his patient left-out look, as if a group of mathematicians had overlooked his presence and started to discuss relativity. Laurie had had enough of this and hadn’t glanced at him again. Now he got up gracefully and took away the glass with which Ralph had been tapping for emphasis on the arm of his chair.
“You’ll break it.” He smiled brightly across at Laurie. “I bet he handed you out some canings at school, didn’t he?”
“About the usual number,” said Laurie, rather coldly.
Bunny put his head on one side and looked down at Ralph with an indulgent smile. “It did something to him, you know. Scratch old Ralph after a couple of drinks, and you’ll always find an unfrocked scoutmaster.”
Laurie was certain afterwards that if he had had one more drink himself at the time when Bunny said this, he would have got to his feet and struck him. As it was, he was just sober enough to notice Alec looking at him, which brought him to himself. He sat upright in his chair, which wasn’t easy, since it seemed designed for patients under general anesthesia, and looked Bunny in the face.
“We didn’t have a scout troop actually,” he said. “But I think it’s quite good. It keeps boys off the streets. Did you ever join one?”
Oh, God, he thought, that was a bit much. He saw Sandy try to catch Alec’s eye and Alec pretend not to notice; he saw Ralph frowning in forced concentration as if he knew something ought to be dealt with. He looked at Bunny again.
“I should think I did,” said Bunny genially. “I was prepared every minute, but it turned out a terrible flop.”
He spoke as if he had missed the point; but Laurie had seen his face at the moment of impact. While Alec and Sandy hurried to pad the conversation with gossip, Laurie thought: He took that because he couldn’t think of a comeback he felt would be smart enough. That’s what he wants more than anything; cleverness, making things go his way. And he’s just clever enough to suspect sometimes that he’s fundamentally stupid, and it limits even his malice. That must be most frustrating. I suppose Ralph sees the best of him when they’re alone.
It was at this point that the air-raid sirens went.
There were the usual sounds of weary and resigned irritation. Bunny went to the window to fix a dubious bit of blackout; a warden shouted at him from the street for showing a light; there was some moving about in search of a drawing-pin. Laurie bumped the cocktail cabinet and slopped over the cut-glass water-jug, and returned to mop it up with his handkerchief. As he was about to put this back in his pocket something arrested him; he brought it out again and sniffed it Bunny was at the window, and didn’t see.
Ralph heaved on his chair-arms, and got to his feet. “Well, Spud,” he said, “time we were getting you home.”
Bunny came over. In his gentlest voice he said, “Ralph, my dear, really and truly I don’t think you ought to drive.”
“Now look,” said Ralph, “I’ve only—” He frowned again, as if he were trying to remember something.
“Yes, we know all about that.” Bunny’s cozy voice seemed addressed to an engagingly naughty child. “Just you take a little nap till I get home. I’ll see after Laurie.”
Laurie said to Ralph, “It’s all right. Don’t worry.” Ralph took hold of the back of the chair to steady himself, and stared at him with his eyes narrowed, as if he were a bright light. Laurie went up to him. “I enjoyed this evening. Thanks for everything.” It didn’t matter any longer what Bunny thought.
“It’s a pleasure, Spud, any time,” said Ralph, speaking carefully and rather pompously. “Bunny’s right, you know. Bad show, I’m sorry. Comes of mixing them. I shouldn’t have had that rum upstairs.”
“You didn’t have any rum,” Laurie said. He didn’t care whether Bunny heard him or not.
“That’s what I thought too,” said Ralph, nodding solemnly. “Only goes to show.” He sat down again; this time he looked as if he wouldn’t get up so easily. Just then the guns began, crackling and pattering at the other end of the town. Laurie looked around at Bunny. Evidently it would be necessary to speak to him sooner or later.
“You’d better forget about driving me back. You’ll have to get back to the Station, won’t you?”
“Oh, no,” said Bunny soothingly. “That’s all right, I’m not on duty.”
“Won’t you want to run Ralph over?”
“Ralph?” Bunny smiled as if something whimsical had been said. “He’s only on a course. He isn’t responsible for anything.”
Laurie’s hand clenched itself in his pocket; his fingers met in the wet twist of handkerchief he had used to mop the cocktail shelf. Ralph’s eyelids were dropping, he was just in the pose for which the chair had been designed. Laurie said to Alec, “Will you be here?”
“We’re on casualty tonight. We ought to be on our way now. I’m sorry.” His eyes met Laurie’s in a look of open understanding. “I shouldn’t worry, it can’t be helped, you know. Well, thanks for the drink, Bunny. Good night.”
Laurie wondered, as the door shut on them, what their first words would be when they were alone. There was a thump; the bombs had started. He walked back to Ralph’s chair.
“I’m not going,” he said. “Not till this is over.”
“Push off, Spud,” said Ralph drowsily. “I’m going to sleep.” He shut his eyes again.
Laurie walked around him. He wasn’t going to speak to Bunny across him as if he didn’t count. “We can’t,” he said evenly, “just leave him here. What if the house gets a stick of incendiaries?”
Bunny spread his hands in a vaguely mystic gesture, committing them all to the will of Allah.
Laurie breathed sharply through his nose. “Christ—”
He turned at a sound behind him. Ralph had picked himself up from the chair. He stood with his feet apart and his hands dug in his pockets, swaying slightly as if he were giving with a moving deck.
“What in hell’s all this nonsense about? Stop flapping, Spud, and don’t be such a bloody nuisance.”
“All right.” He could feel Bunny watching at his elbow. “Try and stay awake till you see how it goes.”
“See how what goes? What’s eating you, for God’s sake?”
“There’s a raid on.” As he spoke he heard a bracket of bombs go down; it was like heavy feet running a step or two.
“All right, Spud, all right.” He stood there frowning, as if the raid were an obstruction which Laurie had called into being. Suddenly he narrowed his eyes tightly; something came into them, it seemed from an indestructible strong-point far behind. “Look after yourself. I’ll be ringing you. God bless.”