Julia and Frances waited together. Andrew arrived first, but alone. One glance was enough: he had a depleted, even haggard look, and there was no sign of the debonair Andrew. He was sombre. His eyes were red.
' Sophie might be in later, ' he said, and poured himself copious drafts of red wine, one after the other. ' All right, mother, ' he said. ‘I know. But I've taken a beating. '
'Has she gone back to Roland?'
‘I don't know. Probably. The bonds of love are hard to break, quote unquote, but if that's love then give me the other thing. ' His voice was already slurred. ‘I’m really here because I never see Sylvia. Sylvia – who is she? Perhaps it is Sylvia I love. But you know what, Frances, I think she's a nun at heart. ‘And so he ran on, the stream of words slowing and thickening, until he got up, strode to the sink, and splashed water on his face. 'There is a superstition...' – he said thuperthtition – 'that cold water subdues the flames of alcohol. Untrue.' His head fell forward as he sat down, and he got up again and said, ‘I think I'll have a bit of a lie down.
' Colin's using your room.
‘I’ll use the sitting-room. He went noisily up the stairs.
Sylvia arrived and embraced Julia who could not prevent herself from saying, ‘I never see you these days.
Sylvia smiled, and took the other end of the table from Frances, and spread papers around her.
' Aren't you having supper with us? asked Julia, and Sylvia said, ' Sorry, and pushed the papers to one side.
Colin came down the stairs in big leaps. Sylvia's pale face warmed to him in a smile and she held out her arms. They embraced.
Wilhelm knocked, as he always did, enquired if he might join them, sat near Julia, having first kissed her hand and given her a close enquiring look. He was worried about her? She looked the same, they both did. He might be on his way to ninety but he was hale, he was hearty.
Having heard that Andrew was sleeping it off upstairs, Colin said, ' La belle dame sans merci. I told you so, Frances, didn't I?'
At which point Sophie herself arrived, full of apologies. She was in a loose white dress, her black hair cascading over it; her face seemed unmarked by love or by pain, but her eyes – now that was a different matter.
Frances was serving food, her hands occupied. She turned her head so that Sophie might kiss her cheek. Sophie slid into a chair opposite Colin, and found him gravely examining her.
' Darling Colin, said Sophie.
'Your victim is upstairs, he's flaked out,' said Colin.
' That's not nice, said Frances.
' It wasn't meant to be, said Colin.
Sophie's eyes were full of tears.
Wilhelm said to Colin, 'Beautiful women should never be reproached for the damage they do. They have the permission of the Gods to torment us. ' He gathered up Julia's hand, kissed it once, twice, sighed, laid down the old hand, and patted it.
Rupert arrived. Without a word of explanation offered or asked for, he was a fixture, and – Frances hoped – accepted. Colin was giving him a long, not unfriendly look, but it was a bleak one, as if loneliness had been confirmed. Rupert sat in the place next to Frances, and nodded to everyone.
' A meeting, ' he said. ‘But it's a meal. '
Frances was laying filled plates in front of everyone, family style, and setting bottles of wine down the middle of the table.
' This is marvellous, Frances, it's so wonderful – like old times, oh I often think of them, all of us sitting around here, wonderful evenings, ' Sophie chattered. But she was on the point of tears and was destroying a piece of bread with the long thin fingers that were made for rings.
Here the little dog, having escaped from some confinement, rushed into the kitchen and up on to Colin's lap, where it stayed, its feathery tail like an energetic duster.
' Down, Vicious,’ said Colin. ' Down at once. ‘But the creature had settled on Colin's lap, and was trying to lick his face.
' It is not healthy to let dogs lick your face,’ said Sylvia.
‘I know,’ said Colin.
' That dog,’ said Julia, ' couldn't you call it something sensible? Every time I hear Vicious I need to laugh. '
' A laugh a day keeps the doctor away,’ said Colin. ‘What do you say to that, Sylvia?'
‘I wish we could just get on with the supper,’ said Sylvia. She had hardly touched her food.
'This is so wonderful,' said Sophie, eating as if starved.
Now Andrew appeared, ill but upright. He and Sophie exchanged miserable glances. Frances put a plate of food before Andrew, who said, ' Couldn't we just begin? Sophie and I have to rush off.' His look at Sophie was a humble enquiry but she seemed embarrassed.
'Do we have to recapitulate?' asked Sylvia, pushing aside her plate with relief, and arranging her papers in front of her. 'I sent everyone a resume.'
‘And very good it was,’ said Andrew. ' Thank you. '
This was the situation. A group of young doctors wanted to start a campaign to get the government to build shelters against fall-out; that first, and then possibly against a full-scale nuclear attack. The trouble was, the organisation in the field, the Campaign for Unilateral Nuclear Disarmament, a noisy, vigorous efficient force, opposed any attempt to provide shelter of any kind, or even inform the populace about elementary protection. The tone of their polemic was scornful of criticism, was violent, even hysterical.
Julia said, ‘I need to have something explained to me. Why do these people complain so much that the government is making provision to shelter itself and the Royal Family?' A persistent jeer was that ' the government is making very sure that it will be protected, never mind about us' . ‘I simply do not understand,’ said Julia. ' If there is a war then it is essential to maintain a government, surely that is commonsense?'
‘I do not think commonsense has much to do with this campaign,’ said Wilhelm. ' These are people who have not experienced war, or they would not talk so foolishly. '
' They think like this,’ said Colin. ' A bomb will fall and everyone in the world will be dead. Therefore there is no need for shelters.'
‘But it is not logical,’ said Julia. ' It is not consistent. '
Frances and Rupert were looking at the wodges of articles and cuttings, from The Defender, they looked at each other, they shared resignation. The Defender was committed to the campaign's 'line'. Members of its staff were on the campaign's committees. Its journalists wrote its articles.
' The argument is,’ said Colin, ' that if the government thinks itself protected and safe, then it will be more ready to drop the bomb.'
'What bomb?’ said Julia. 'Why one bomb? What is this bomb they keep talking about? In a war there is not one bomb.'
' That is the point, Julia. It is the point we have to get across,’ said Sylvia.
' Perhaps Johnny could enlighten us,’ said Wilhelm. ' He is on their committee. '
‘What committee is Johnny not on?' enquired Colin.
‘Why don't we telephone him and ask him to come and defend himself?’ suggested Rupert.
People were impressed with this idea; it had not occurred to the family. Andrew went to the telephone. He dialled, Johnny answered. He was told there was a meeting, and he agreed to come.
While they waited they studied Sylvia's cuttings, and Julia said, ' This is the strangest thing I have ever known. These people are like children. '
‘I agree,’ said Sylvia, ' they are. '