At Lady Molly's - Anthony Powell [75]
‘Found it all right,’ he said.
‘Have you seen who has arrived?’
‘Saw them on my way back. You know Mrs. H. doesn’t look a bit different from what she looked like in 1917.’
This comment on Mrs. Haycock seemed to me an extraordinary proposition: either crudely untrue, or most uncomplimentary to her earlier appearance. In due course one learns, where individuals and emotions are concerned, that Time’s slide-rule can make unlikely adjustments. Angular and flamboyant, Mrs. Haycock was certainly not without powers of attraction, but I doubted whether Jeavons saw in those severe terms. It was impossible to say. That side of her may, indeed, have constituted her charm for him both at that moment and in 1917. On the other hand, both then and in Umfraville’s night club, she may have been equally no more than a romantic dream, a figure transcending any mere question of personal appearance. At that moment Pilgrim advanced a little way in front of the drum, and, in a shrill, hesitant voice, like that of an elderly governess, began to sing:
‘Di, Di, in her collar and tie,
Quizzes the girls with a monocled eye,
Sipping her hock in a black satin stock,
Or shooting her cuffs over pernod or bock …’
‘I’ve a damn good mind to ask her for a dance,’ said Jeavons. ‘Who are they with? Do you know them?’
‘The man is called Peter Templer. I’ve known him for years.’
‘And the other girl?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Who is Templer?’
‘A stockbroker. He was divorced not so long ago from a very pretty model, who then married a writer called Quiggin. Templer is like your friend in the Ordnance, a great one with the girls.’
‘Looks it,’ said Jeavons.
When Pilgrim and Hopkins had left their table, Umfraville had moved to the party of which Templer seemed to be host. He was talking to Mrs. Haycock. Templer began to gaze round the room. He caught sight of me and waved. I signalled back to him. Meanwhile, Pilgrim was continuing his song, while Hopkins thumped away vigorously, with a great deal of facility, at the piano.
‘Like a torpedo, in brogues or tuxedo,
She’s tearing around at Cap Cod, or the Lido;
From Bournemouth to Biarritz, the fashion parades
Welcome debonaire Di in her chic tailor-mades …’
‘You see this sort of song, for instance,’ said Jeavons. ‘Who the hell wants to listen to something like that? God knows what it is all about, for one thing. Songs were quite different when I was younger.’
The song came to an end and there was a little clapping.
Templer came across the dance floor to our table. I introduced him, explaining that Jeavons had brought me; and also that Jeavons knew Widmerpool and Mrs. Haycock. I told him that at once, to forestall comments that might easily be embarrassing in the mood to which Jeavons had abandoned himself.
‘So you already know that Widmerpool is getting married?’ said Templer. ‘I was hoping to break the news to you. I am disappointed.’
For someone in general so sure of himself, he was a shade self-conscious at being caught entertaining Widmerpool in a haunt of this kind: hardly a routine place to take a business acquaintance. He had probably hoped that the news of Widmerpool’s engagement, by its broad humour, would distract attention from his own immediate circumstances.
‘The old boy behaved rather well about my brother-in-law, Bob,’ he said, rather hurriedly. ‘And then Dicky kept on pestering me to come to this dive of his. Do you know Dicky?’
‘Just met him once before.’
‘And then the girl I’m with loves to be taken to places she thinks “amusing”. It seemed a chance of killing several birds with the same stone.’
‘Who is your girl?’
‘She is called Betty. I can never remember her married name. Taylor, is it? Porter? Something like that. We met at a dreadful bridge party the other day. Her husband is only interested in making money, she says. I can’t imagine what she finds amiss in that. Rather a peach, isn’t she?’
‘Certainly.’
‘Why don’t you both come over and join us?’
Templer addressed the question to me, but he turned in the direction of Jeavons as if to persuade him.
‘As you know our friend Widmerpool already,