The Sweetest Dream

Grateful for this little crumb, Julia took Sylvia's hand and held it. ‘Ah, my poor girl, you do not eat, you do not look after yourself. '

'I'm fine,' said Sylvia. 'We all eat too much.'

Frances's stew, rebuked, was nevertheless being offered for second helpings.

Johnny arrived, but not alone. With him was James. Both men wore Mao-style black jackets, and boots from the army surplus shop. Johnny, who had recently been in Cuba with Fidel, wore a scarf in Cuban colours. James was a large man now, smiling, affable, everyone's good fellow. Not pleased to see James? Impossible! He embraced Frances, he clapped Andrew and Colin on the shoulders, he kissed Sophie, he hugged a bonily resistant Sylvia, he gave Julia the closed-fist salute, at shoulder level -modified for social purposes. 'Good to be here again,' he said. He sat in an empty chair, looking expectant, and Johnny came to sit by him, but, feeling lowered from the perpendicular and on the same level as the others, stood up and resumed his old stance, back to the window, arms out, hands resting on the sill. 'I've eaten,' he said. 'How are you, Mutti?' ' As you see. '

James was heartily at work on the food. ‘You' re missing a treat, ' he said to his guide and mentor. He spoke in cockney, and Julia went Tsk, tsk, in annoyance.

Johnny hesitated, then succumbed and sat down as a plate arrived in front of him, Frances having known that this would be the outcome.

Sylvia said, ' This is serious. Johnny, James, we are having a serious discussion. '

‘When are situations not serious?’ said Johnny. He had nodded at his sons on arriving, and now said to Andrew, ' Pass the bread. '

' Life,’ said Colin, ' as we all know, is intrinsically serious. '

' Seriouser and seriouser, as far as I am concerned,’ said Andrew.

' Stop it,’ said Sylvia. ‘We've invited Johnny here for a reason. ' ' Shoot!’ said Johnny.

' There is a group of young doctors. We have formed a committee. We have all been worried for some time, but the clinching factor was a letter brought out of the Soviet Union...’

Johnny, with dramatic intent, laid down his knife and fork and held up a hand to stop her.

She went on. ' It was from a group of doctors in the Soviet Union. They say there have been accidents at nuclear plants, a lot of deaths and people dying. Large areas of country are contaminated with fall-out...’

‘I am not interested in anti-Soviet propaganda,’ said Johnny. He resumed his place, back to the window, leaving his plate. James, with reluctance, left his and stood by Johnny, captain and lieutenant.

Sylvia said, ' This letter was brought out by someone who was there on a delegation. Smuggled out. It reached us. It is genuine. '

'In the first place,' said Johnny, his speech becoming ever more clipped, 'the comrades in the Soviet Union are responsible and would never permit nuclear installations to be faulty. And in the second place, I am not prepared to listen to information which so obviously comes from fascist sources.'

‘Oh, Lord,’ said Sylvia. ' Aren't you ashamed of yourself, Johnny? Just going on and on saying the same old stuff everyone knows...'

‘And who is this everybody?’ sneered Johnny.

Julia broke in: 'I want to know why your – mob – insists that it is in some way criminal for a government and the Royal Family to be kept safe in the event of war? I do not understand you.'

' It is perfectly simple,’ said Andrew. ' These are people who hate anybody in authority – as a matter of course.'

James said, laughing, ‘And quite right too. ‘And repeated it, ' An' qui' righ' too. '

' Children,’ said Julia. ' Idiot children. And they have such influence. If you had lived through a war you would not talk such nonsense. '

‘You forget,’ said James. ' Comrade Johnny fought in the Spanish Civil War. '

Now, a silence. The younger ones had scarcely heard of Johnny's feats, and the older ones had long ago tried to forget. Johnny only looked modestly downwards, and then nodded, taking control again, and said, 'If the bomb falls then that will be curtains, for everybody in the world.'

'What bomb?’ said Julia. 'Why do you always talk about the bomb, the bomb?'

' It's not the Soviet Union we should be worried about,’ said Johnny. ' It's American bombs. '

Sylvia said, ‘Oh, Johnny, I do wish you' d be serious. You always talk so much nonsense. '

Johnny, goaded by this nonentity, this squit of a girl, slowly losing his temper. ‘I do not think I am often told that I talk nonsense.'

'That is because you only mix with people who talk nonsense,' said Colin.

Frances, who was silent because from the moment Johnny had entered she knew nothing sensible could be said or achieved, was removing the plates and putting down glass bowls of lemon cream, apricot mousse and whipped cream. James, seeing this, actually groaned with greed, and resumed his place at the table.

‘Who makes pudding these days?’ said Johnny.

' Only lovely Frances,’ said Sophie, tucking in.

‘And not often,’ said Frances.

Sylvia said, ' Very well, Johnny, let us assume that these terrible nuclear accidents in the Soviet Union never happened...’

'And of course they did not.'

' Then what is your objection to the people of this country being protected against fall-out? You won't even agree to information about how to prepare a house against fall-out. You won't agree to any kind of protection for people. I don't get it. None of us can. The mere idea of any kind of protection and you all start squealing. '

' Because once you agree to shelters then it assumes war is inevitable.'

‘But that is simply not logical,’ said Julia.

'Not to an ordinary mind,' said Rupert.

Sylvia said, ' It amounts to this, Johnny. No government in this country could even suggest protecting the people, even to the minor extent of fall-out shelters, because of you and your lot. The Campaign for Unilateral Nuclear Disarmament – it has such power that the government is afraid of it.'

' That's righ' ,’ said James. ' That's how i' ough' a be. '

‘Why do you talk in that ugly way?’ said Julia. ' That isn't how you need to speak. '

' If you don't talk ugly then you' re posh,’ said Colin, talking posh. ‘And you don't get work in this free country. Another tyranny. '

Johnny and James showed signs of leaving.

'I'm going back to the hospital,' said Sylvia. 'At least I can have an intelligent conversation there.'

‘I want to see the letter you are talking about,’ said Johnny.

'Why?' asked Sylvia. 'You aren't even prepared to discuss what it says. '

' Obviously,’ said Andrew, ' he wants to inform the Soviet Embassy here of its contents. So that it can be traced, and the writers can be sent to labour camps or shot. '

' Labour camps do not exist,’ said Johnny. ‘And if they did once – to a certain extent – they have been exaggerated – then they don't exist now. '

‘Oh, Lord,’ said Andrew. ‘You really are a bore, Johnny. '

' A bore isn't dangerous,’ said Julia. ' Johnny and his kind are dangerous.'

' That is very true,’ said Wilhelm, politely, as ever, to Johnny. ‘You are very dangerous people. Do you realise, if there is a nuclear accident here, in this country, or if a bomb is dropped by some madman, let alone if there is a war, then millions of people could die because of you?'

‘Well, thanks for the snack,’ said Johnny.

' Thanks for nothing,’ said Sylvia, almost in tears. ‘I should have known there was no point even in trying. '

The two men left. Andrew and Sophie left, their arms around each other. Colin's sardonic smile at the sight did not go unnoticed by them or by anybody.

Sylvia said, 'Anyway, there's a committee. So far it's all doctors, but we are going to expand.'

'Enrol us all,' said Colin, 'but expect to find glass in your wine and frogs through the letterbox. '