Mr Cadmus, page 9
He returned the following morning. The soldier now looked old. His skin was blanched, and his face drawn back. ‘What typewriter do you use?’ he asked the boy. ‘A Royal or a Smith?’ Theo did not know what he was saying. ‘Everyone all right? Better get down beside the wall. Better get down.’ Then he fell silent.
Theo left the forest and went back to the watchtower. ‘I have found you a German,’ he told the English officer. ‘Can I have fifteen lire?’
Chapter 11
Goats and Dust
‘Have we arrived yet? Oh dear.’ As Millicent Swallow sat up she opened her eyes, to see a small crowd gathered around her. ‘Where am I? Sorry. Silly question.’
‘You took a tumble, dear,’ Maud told her. ‘And look. Here is Theodore. What a coincidence.’
‘You must come into to the restaurant,’ he said. ‘We will give you a nice cup of tea.’
She allowed herself to be taken inside, still bewildered by her sudden loss of consciousness. ‘I’m very sorry,’ she said, ‘to be such a nuisance.’
‘Nonsense, Milly. It was just a funny turn.’
‘Funny turn’ sounded about right; it was a momentary lapse, a lacuna, a gap, that was without explanation. A funny turn could be seen in the theatre, or on television, and was harmless. ‘I must have been light-headed for a moment.’
‘It has been very hot.’ Millicent put on her hat, which had come off during her fall.
‘After we have enjoyed our tea, dear Miss Swallow, we will take you back to the hotel. Where you can rest.’
So they returned to the Christopher. Millicent lay upon the narrow bed, looking forlornly at the cracks in the ceiling and feeling vaguely guilty that she had not joined Maud on a sudden shopping expedition to Regent Street. But she could not bear entering the crowds, the traffic and the general air of busy activity. Somehow she connected them with her fainting fit outside the restaurant. The weight of London seemed to press upon her.
As she passed the reception she could hear Theodore and his relative talking in the small office behind it. They lowered their voices when she passed, no doubt out of sympathy for her ordeal. But she heard the word ‘tesoro’, and then Theodore closed the door of the reception and began talking in English. He spoke slowly to his relative. ‘Niente, trees are two a penny. They prove nothing. I have found gates, trees and barns but not as the maps have it. You know, Carlo, there are too many gates and trees in this country. Troppi! And too many maps!’
‘This is true.’
‘But Mr Cadmus is cunning. Mr Cadmus is crafty. I will find something else. Un altro tipo di tesoro, Carlo. Un altro tipo.’ Millicent did not know what the last phrase meant, but to her it sounded faintly sinister. ‘Ah, Millicent, you are quite recovered.’ Theo had walked into the lobby as if he had been expecting her.
‘Almost. I feel a little trembly.’
‘We all feel – what you say – trembly before great enterprises.’
Millicent had no idea what he meant. ‘I’m a little dizzy still.’
‘Nonsense. You look wildly enchanting And who is this? Maud, bearing gifts?’
Maud Finch had entered the hotel through a creaking revolving door, clutching two green Harrods bags. She seemed faintly embarrassed. ‘I have been naughty,’ she said.
‘We are all naughty,’ Cadmus said, clapping his hand on his thigh. ‘Some more than others.’
Maud took out two cellophane packages. She had purchased a luxury range of lingerie delicately labelled ‘nightwear’. For a horrifying moment Millicent believed that it was something to do with Theodore’s great enterprise. She was further alarmed when Theodore announced that Maud would wear the garments on this special occasion. ‘I am very broad-minded. I know that ladies love silk.’
Millicent was horrified. She had an image of Maud dancing in bare feet, wearing that black negligee, in front of Theo. All she could think of was Salome, which was not wholly encouraging. Her fears were largely allayed, however, when Theo announced to the ladies, ‘Carlo is preparing a feast for us in honour of Millicent. A banchetto for her miracle!’
The restaurant was a small bar and lounge on the ground floor, overlooking the street where various bins cluttered the front gardens. Carlo had put on the record player to play ‘Arrivederci Roma’ sung by an unknown trio and had decorated the bar with fairy lights last used at Christmas. He came in wearing a dinner jacket a size too small for him and put on extra pomade for the occasion, which made the restaurant smell like a barber’s shop. ‘Tonight,’ he said, ‘we begin with the brodo.’
‘Bread?’ asked Maud.
‘No. Not precisely bread. And then …’ He kissed his fingers. ‘Zampetti di maiale!’
‘What is that?’
‘Zampetti di maiale? It is a lovely Italian specialty.’
‘Meat?’
‘Of course it is meat. Pigs’ trotters. Ankles. Knuckles. Delicious!’
The brodo came almost at once in small blue soup-plates. It was of a pale and watery consistency, with pieces of fish floating within it. It might have tasted of celery. It might have tasted of carrot. It was hard to be sure. Maud looked at Millicent, but they said nothing. ‘Can you savour the scent of the sea?’ Theo asked them. ‘I can feel the salt wind blow and see the sails unfurl. Ah, Italia! We are good fishermen, are we not?’ Since the brodo offered no evidence either way, the women remained silent.
The next course posed more difficulty. Certain pieces of the armature of pigs seemed to have been boiled in milk that was just on the point of curdling.
‘I wouldn’t be surprised to see the tail,’ Maud whispered. ‘Like a worm.’
‘Don’t!’
‘There doesn’t seem to be much flesh here.’
Theo was indulgent to their insular tastes. ‘Suck, dear Maud. Suck. The beauty is in the sucking.’
Neither Millicent nor Maud were accustomed to sucking food, and decided to pick instead. A piece of knuckle skidded off Millicent’s plate and landed on the carpet.
‘Allow me,’ Carlo said. He washed it in water from the tap behind the bar, and replaced it on her plate. ‘No harm.’
‘Oh good. I would hate to waste any.’
Maud put a piece in her mouth with her fork, and began to chew on it. After an audible crunch she decided to take out the morsel and put it on the side of her plate. ‘I was worried about my teeth,’ she said. ‘Dentures can be very expensive.’
‘How is it?’ Theo asked her.
‘Utterly delicious. But it could have done with a tiny bit more meat.’
‘You should store it up, dear Maud, like squirrels in their cheeks.’
‘Oh, that would be digusting. What if somebody slapped me on the back?’
‘Did I not tell you that we have a maid for little slips and indiscretions? You may remember her, Milly. Peggy was once your neighbour,’ Cadmus said.
‘What?’
‘Everyone recommended her. Even the fireman. He called her brave. She was the one who rescued your rag-dog. I said to Carlo, we need a stalwart girl in Earl’s Court.’
Millicent did not know this heroine. But she shuddered at the mention of a neighbour.
‘I shall present her to you.’ He rang the wine glass with a fork. The door opened and a thin woman with close-cropped hair sidled in without making a noise. She wore an appropriate expression of grief and sympathy at the loss of Milly’s relatives, all those years ago.
‘Is that you, Miss Milly?’ she said, clasping her arms together. ‘I would have known you anywhere.’
Millicent had no recollection of this woman, and the house, or the street. It even crossed her mind that she was something of a fraud. That impression was dispelled when Peggy recalled their house next door in Wellesley Street and ‘the floppy hound’ Millicent carried everywhere. Milly put on a brave face, all the while steeling herself for an ordeal. ‘Do you remember me now?’ the woman asked her.
‘It’s a long time ago.’
‘But I never forget a face.’
‘Oh how lovely.’ Millicent decided to resign. ‘After all this time—’
‘Forty years.’
‘You have a good memory.’
‘How could I forget?’
‘Of course.’ Millicent shook her head. ‘A day to remember.’
‘You were the brave one,’ Peggy said. ‘You never cried once. It’s lucky you weren’t killed. When I saw you running into the garden, I knew that something was wrong. Then we saw the fire.’
‘I had called the firemen, you know.’
‘I know that. Of course you had.’
‘But there was nothing else I could do.’
‘The flames were too strong, love.’
‘I told them all I knew.’
‘What was it? I can’t recall exactly.’
‘A gas leak. The joint was faulty. I told the police everything.’
‘You didn’t scream. You just stood there, your arms hanging down at your sides. I remember it as if it were yesterday.’
‘I didn’t know what was happening. I froze.’
‘No. You never showed any emotion. You were wearing a bright blue dress.’
‘Was I?’
‘I often wondered what happened to it.’
‘I must have thrown it away. Along with the others …’ Millicent’s voice trailed off.
‘The police never found out who did it, did they?’
‘Nobody did it. The pipe was loose. Faulty.’
Cadmus was listening intently.
‘Just one of those things,’ Peggy said.
‘Yes. One of those things. Wartime.’
‘You were ever so brave at the coroner’s.’
‘Was I?’ All she remembered clearly was the wooden rail she clutched while everyone was talking around her. She sensed vaguely that she was being pitied, and her resentment heightened the colour of her cheeks. She felt no pity. Death by misadventure. Some misadventure. Was that what it was? She smelled the wax polish on the long table in front of her, and had a sudden almost overwhelming desire to comb her hair. But that would be indiscreet and reflect badly upon her. She waited until the coroner and jury had left the court before she took out her comb.
‘You were very brave,’ Peggy said. ‘You spoke out in such a clear voice.’ (This is what Milly had said: I smelled gas and then I called to them. I think the hot plate was on. There was a fire.) ‘Where did you go afterward?’
‘My auntie looked after me.’
‘I saw you walk away by yourself after the funeral.’
‘I didn’t know where I was. I was poorly for a time, and then I got better.’
‘Is that when your auntie took you in? She lived in Ealing, didn’t she?’
‘That’s when I changed school. That’s when I got the idea of being a nurse.’
‘Is that what you are now, Milly?’
‘I was. I retired. The patients were getting on my nerves. The sick can be very nasty.’
‘Still, you seem very cheerful now.’
‘I get by, Peggy.’
‘Still waiting for that special person?’
‘Oh, I gave that up years ago. The right man must be long gone. Oh dear. I think I still need a little air.’
‘Let me get you an aspirin,’ Maud said. ‘There’s a chemist on the other side of the road.’
Maud got up from the table to leave.
‘I’ll get some elastoplast too,’ she told Millicent. ‘You have a cut on your chin.’
‘Am I bloody?’
‘It’s just a little nick, but nicks can grow. You will look like Lady Macbeth.’
Maud said goodbye to Peggy and left. But Peggy accompanied her across the road. Millicent believed that here was an opportunity to change the conversation.
‘I hope I didn’t upset you when I fainted.’
‘Not in the least,’ Theo said. ‘It was perfectly all right. It was a hot day, dear Miss Swallow. It could have happened to anyone.’
‘But I felt such a fool. With all that crowd around me.’
‘But you are not a fool, Millicent.’
‘No. I am not.’
‘You are very observant. The eyes in the back of the head.’
‘I would not go so far, Theo. But I do try and keep my wits about me.’ They were silent for a moment. ‘But what has happened to Carlo?’ she asked Theo. ‘He became invisible after the second course. And that reminds me. Did we not see you in that restaurant with him? The one who looks like a gigolo. The one who just served us.’
‘He is not a gigolo, Millicent.’ Theodore did not approve of her tone. ‘He is a receptionist from Rome.’
‘I just said he looked like one. Looking is not being.’
‘He was not with me, dear lady. I was alone.’
‘That is peculiar. I could swear that he was there,’ she replied. ‘And another man. It’s all very confusing.’
‘You were agitated, Milly,’ Theo said. ‘The mind plays little tricks. It’s only natural. But please, tell me how you are enjoying your time back in London.’
‘It’s changed so much, I feel like a stranger.’
Theo listened for a while but then became bored and said, ‘I wonder where dear Maud has got to?’
As if he had summoned her, Maud appeared in front of the restaurant clutching a bottle. ‘It was rude of me to delay you further,’ she said. ‘But after I went to the chemist I bought this in memory of our meal.’
‘Ah,’ Theo exclaimed. ‘Grappa!’
‘I was told it was from your island.’ Maud was opening the bottle with some difficulty. ‘But I can never remember the island’s name. It must be enchanted.’
‘Caldera,’ Millicent said with a hint of impatience.
‘I looked it up on a map, but I couldn’t see it.’
‘Should you not wear reading glasses, dear? Everything will be much clearer.’
‘It is very small,’ Theodore said. ‘Insignificant.’
‘But surely you have happy memories of it?’ Millicent asked him. ‘Childhood is happy.’
‘Not always,’ Maud muttered.
‘Goats and dust. That is all.’ They walked back to the hotel.
‘Let’s drink to them,’ Maud said. ‘To goats and dust.’
‘No, no,’ Theo said. ‘We must forget about them.’
They were interrupted by the arrival of Carlo carrying a plate of what looked to Maud like doughnuts soaked in syrup. Millicent gazed at them eagerly. ‘Rum baba! I thought they came from France.’
‘I thought it was a dance,’ Maud said.
‘We also make them in southern Italy,’ Theo told them. ‘Where the oranges grow.’
The two ladies, starved after the first two courses, ate them greedily and quickly.
‘You ladies must now try our very special drink.’ Carlo came back from behind the counter. ‘It is made for rum baba.’
‘Don’t tell me it is rum.’ Millicent pursed her lips.
‘No, no. Limoncello. Made at home. Christopher-style.’ From behind the bar he brought out a a bottle of what looked like custard. ‘Very sweet, like ladies’ lips. Very sour, like ladies’ tongues.’
‘I don’t think that’s quite the right way of putting it,’ she replied.
‘It is our only night in London, ladies. Surely we are allowed to be a little bit bad?’ Theo looked at them with gleaming eyes. ‘I may even tell you a secret when we are back home.’
Chapter 12
A Conniption Fit
‘I have found so many secrets in this village,’ the deaconess was telling Mr Cadmus, ‘that someday I might burst.’
‘If you choose any spot on earth, reverend lady—’
‘June.’
‘You will find mysteries. The heart can be deceitful. I have known some strange events in Caldera.’
‘Let me show you this, Mr Cadmus. It is what we call a parish register. We keep the details of all our parishioners here. Birth. Marriage.’
‘Death.’ He still distrusted June.
‘Yes, of course. But there are other details pasted in for general interest. And that was when I thought of your special interest. Look here, at the entry of 12 May 1945. Four days after the war had ended. Forgive me for bringing up such sad events.’
‘Not at all. On the island all is one.’
‘Do you see there? “The Little Camborne Regiment, sadly depleted after enemy action, took refuge on the island of Caldera.” I came across it quite by accident. What do you make of it?’
Theo thought for a moment, with his eyes closed. ‘It is one of those wonderful coincidences that bring us together, dear lady. Now I feel very close to you. Spiritually.’
‘And here is the interesting part. It refers to all the soldiers who survived.’
‘Oh indeed?’ He was burning with hate. They were the men who had shot his brother.
‘There were six of them. We treat them as heroes.’
‘Of course. It is quite natural. Are the names written here also?’
‘Oh yes. Here is dear old Cunningham, the lieutenant. And there, look, is Denny. Wesley. Deacon. And the two Appleby brothers.’
‘They are still with us, I believe.’
‘Oh yes. In roaring health. There have been casualties, Denny and Deacon have passed away, unfortunately. But Cunningham is still active.’
‘And what about the sixth man you mentioned?’
‘Wesley? He is a little poorly, I’m afraid, but he is in good spirits.’
‘And they would never leave Little Camborne.’
‘Oh God, no. They wouldn’t budge.’
‘I would so like to thank them for saving my beloved island.’
‘I am sure that can be arranged. They are in the same cottages as they once were and would be delighted to meet a fellow combatant. Did you actually join them, Mr Cadmus?’
