semi-communal living. Dotty
began clearing up some papers by her typewriter to make
room for our drinking session.
Mortmain asked me what I would like. A little gin, I said.
Bravo! Mortmain cried, as if he knew that I wasn't a
drinker. He turned to Dotty. He said, And you, light of
my life, temple of my desire, companion of my mortal
days?
Dotty said, Gin-and-it, thank you, sailor. You bloody
reptile!
The two men drank whisky, and added a little water
from the tap. Then Leo sat and took my hand and raised
his glass. Darling Grace, he said, you know I can't go on
with all that palaver Rufus does, but I drink to you.
I sipped my gin and tried to look normal, but as it shuddered
through my body, Dotty noticed and offered me
some tonic water. That was better. I've liked gin and tonic
since that day. But it wasn't to be the only mystery to which
Dotty would introduce me.
By the time we got to a second drink, Mortmain
announced, To absent friends!
I hope you don't mean that Irish chancer Doucette,
snarled Dotty, her face narrowing and her eyes full of
passion. I hope a Number 18 bus runs over that bugger.
Nor did she smile as she said it.
Ahem, murmured Rufus. Charlie Doucette is a sore
point in our family.
Dotty shrugged. He is a madman born out of his time,
she told me. I hope they're not filling his mind with rubbish
in London. They can dream up all sorts of things behind
their desks. They find some eccentric like Doucette to try it
out, and expect my husband to go along. It's just not
acceptable. I don't know where in God's name you've been
last time you went.
Rufus interrupted her, and winked, and said to me,
Dotty is just saying that out of piety. She knows where we
were from her friend the Yank Colonel Creed, who's quite
keen on her.
Dotty took some more gin, shook her head and would
speak no further.
Leo turned to me. Dotty . . . Mrs Mortmain . . . works
for a Yank we know. Colonel Creed. Very smooth sort of
bloke.
Rufus said, The Boss gives him a hard time. The Boss has
a bit of a thing about Yanks. I have always found Creed
one of the better ones myself.
Leo declared, He certainly seems to be trying to work
with us now. But better not say any more.
Leo then smiled at me. He told me he had to go into the
barracks the next day, and then to meetings, but would be
back in the evening with Rufus. Dotty tossed her head.
Altogether, she had made a fairly sombre drinking companion,
and the more melancholy she became, the more wary
Rufus Mortmain looked. It was clear Doucette and the
present employment of Rufus himself was an issue of
argument between them.
On my way to the toilet, I glanced out of our living room
window across the river and the shunting yards to the
browned-out city, and on a bench in the parkland across
the road, I saw Susan Enright sitting wearing a hat and
with her suitcase beside her. I called to Leo to come and see,
and the Mortmains came as well. I said, That's the woman
I came down with from Sydney on the train. Mrs Enright.
Not Peter Enright's wife? asked Mortmain. The poor
lady has my sympathy.
What's she doing down there? Dotty worried.
Rufus said, Obviously she caught Peter with his
woman. He lives on the top floor. The almighty Director
of Plans.
Leo murmured to me, Perhaps you and I should go
down, Grace, and see if there's anything she needs.
Dotty said, Shouldn't you leave it to Enright himself? He
might be out and she is waiting for him to come back with
the key.
She could probably do with a drink while she's waiting,
said Rufus.
In the end, Leo and I insisted on going down together.
We crossed the road to the bench she was sitting on by the
river, and she turned to see who was coming. Hello, she
called with a sort of manic gaiety. It's Grace. And her
gallant husband.
Leo asked could he help her.
No thanks. It's very kind of you. I'm waiting here till I'm
arrested for vagrancy. My husband won't let me into my
apartment, so it's become a matter of shaming him.
Her voice
began clearing up some papers by her typewriter to make
room for our drinking session.
Mortmain asked me what I would like. A little gin, I said.
Bravo! Mortmain cried, as if he knew that I wasn't a
drinker. He turned to Dotty. He said, And you, light of
my life, temple of my desire, companion of my mortal
days?
Dotty said, Gin-and-it, thank you, sailor. You bloody
reptile!
The two men drank whisky, and added a little water
from the tap. Then Leo sat and took my hand and raised
his glass. Darling Grace, he said, you know I can't go on
with all that palaver Rufus does, but I drink to you.
I sipped my gin and tried to look normal, but as it shuddered
through my body, Dotty noticed and offered me
some tonic water. That was better. I've liked gin and tonic
since that day. But it wasn't to be the only mystery to which
Dotty would introduce me.
By the time we got to a second drink, Mortmain
announced, To absent friends!
I hope you don't mean that Irish chancer Doucette,
snarled Dotty, her face narrowing and her eyes full of
passion. I hope a Number 18 bus runs over that bugger.
Nor did she smile as she said it.
Ahem, murmured Rufus. Charlie Doucette is a sore
point in our family.
Dotty shrugged. He is a madman born out of his time,
she told me. I hope they're not filling his mind with rubbish
in London. They can dream up all sorts of things behind
their desks. They find some eccentric like Doucette to try it
out, and expect my husband to go along. It's just not
acceptable. I don't know where in God's name you've been
last time you went.
Rufus interrupted her, and winked, and said to me,
Dotty is just saying that out of piety. She knows where we
were from her friend the Yank Colonel Creed, who's quite
keen on her.
Dotty took some more gin, shook her head and would
speak no further.
Leo turned to me. Dotty . . . Mrs Mortmain . . . works
for a Yank we know. Colonel Creed. Very smooth sort of
bloke.
Rufus said, The Boss gives him a hard time. The Boss has
a bit of a thing about Yanks. I have always found Creed
one of the better ones myself.
Leo declared, He certainly seems to be trying to work
with us now. But better not say any more.
Leo then smiled at me. He told me he had to go into the
barracks the next day, and then to meetings, but would be
back in the evening with Rufus. Dotty tossed her head.
Altogether, she had made a fairly sombre drinking companion,
and the more melancholy she became, the more wary
Rufus Mortmain looked. It was clear Doucette and the
present employment of Rufus himself was an issue of
argument between them.
On my way to the toilet, I glanced out of our living room
window across the river and the shunting yards to the
browned-out city, and on a bench in the parkland across
the road, I saw Susan Enright sitting wearing a hat and
with her suitcase beside her. I called to Leo to come and see,
and the Mortmains came as well. I said, That's the woman
I came down with from Sydney on the train. Mrs Enright.
Not Peter Enright's wife? asked Mortmain. The poor
lady has my sympathy.
What's she doing down there? Dotty worried.
Rufus said, Obviously she caught Peter with his
woman. He lives on the top floor. The almighty Director
of Plans.
Leo murmured to me, Perhaps you and I should go
down, Grace, and see if there's anything she needs.
Dotty said, Shouldn't you leave it to Enright himself? He
might be out and she is waiting for him to come back with
the key.
She could probably do with a drink while she's waiting,
said Rufus.
In the end, Leo and I insisted on going down together.
We crossed the road to the bench she was sitting on by the
river, and she turned to see who was coming. Hello, she
called with a sort of manic gaiety. It's Grace. And her
gallant husband.
Leo asked could he help her.
No thanks. It's very kind of you. I'm waiting here till I'm
arrested for vagrancy. My husband won't let me into my
apartment, so it's become a matter of shaming him.
Her voice
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