Scoop-Evelyn-Waugh [62]
WILLIAM BOOT P.S. Sorry. They forgot to post this. Now it's Saturday so you won't get it till Monday.
"You think he's talking turkey with the Brute?" "If he's not already signed up." "Ours is a nasty trade, Salter. No gratitude." "No loyalty." "I've seen it again and again since I've been in Fleet Street. It's enough to make one cynical." "What does Lord Copper say?"' "He doesn't know. For the moment, fortunately, he seems to have forgotten the whole matter. But he may raise it again at any moment." He did, that morning. "... Ah, Salter, I was talking to the Prime Minister last night. The honours list will be out on Wednesday. How are the preparations going for the Boot banquet? It's on the Thursday, I think." "That was the date, Lord Copper." "Good. I shall propose the health of our guest of honour. By the way, did Boot ever come and see me?" "No, Lord Copper." "But I asked for him." "Yes, Lord Copper." "Then why was he not brought? Once and for all, Salter, I will not have a barrier erected between me and my staff. I am as accessible to the humblest..." Lord Copper paused for an emphatic example... "the humblest book reviewer as I am to my immediate entourage, I will have no cliques in the Beast, you understand me?" "Definitely." "Then bring Boot here." "Yes, Lord Copper." It was an inauspicious beginning to Mr. Salter's working day; worse was to come. That afternoon he was sitting disconsolately in the News Editor's room when they were interrupted by the entry of a young man whose face bore that puffy aspect, born of long hours in the golf-house, which marked most of the better-paid members of the Beast staff on their return from their summer holidays. Destined by his trustees for a career in the Household Cavalry, this young man had lately reached the age of twenty-five and plunged into journalism with a zeal which Mr. Salter found it difficult to understand. He talked to him cheerfully for some time on matters connected with his handicap. Then he said:� "By the way, I don't know if there's a story in it, but I was staying last week with my Aunt Trudie. John Boot was there among other people � you know, the novelist. He'd just got a letter from the King or something like that, saying he was going to be knighted." The look of startled concern on the two editors' faces checked him. "I see you don't think much of it. Oh well, I thought it might be worth mentioning. You know, 'Youth's Opportunity in New Reign,' that kind of thing." "John Boot � the novelist?" "Yes. Rather good � at least I always read him. But it seemed a new line for the Prime Minister..."
"No," said the Prime Minister with unusual finality. "No?" "No. It would be utterly impossible to change the list now. The man has been officially notified. And I could not consider knighting two men of the same name on the same day. Just the kind of thing the opposition would jump on. Quite rightly. Smacks of jobbery, you know."
"Two Boots." "Lord Copper must know." "Lord Copper must never know...There's only one comfort. We haven't committed ourselves to which Boot we are welcoming on Thursday, or where he's come from." He pointed to the engraved card which had appeared, during the week-end, on the desks of all the four-figure men in the office.
VISCOUNT COPPER and the Directors of the Megalopolitan Newspaper Company request the honour of your company to dinner on Wednesday September 16th at the Braganza Hotel, to welcome the return of Boot Of THE BEAST 7.45 for 8 o'clock.
"We had a row with the Social Secretary about that. He said it wasn't correct. Lucky how things turned out." "It makes things a little better." "A little." "Salter, this is a case for personal contact. We've got to sign up this new Boot and any other Boot that may be going and one of them has got to be welcomed home on Thursday. There's only one thing for it, Salter, you must go down to the country and see Boot. I'll settle with the other." "To the country?" "Yes, tonight." "Oh, but I couldn't go tonight." "Tomorrow then." "You think it is really necessary?" "Either that, or we must tell Lord Copper the truth." Mr. Salter shuddered. "But wouldn't it be better," he said, "if you went to the country?" "No. I'll see this novelist and get him signed up." "And sent away." "Or welcomed home. And you will offer the other Boot any reasonable terms to lie low." "Any reasonable terms." "Salter, old man, what's come over you? You keep repeating things." "It's nothing. It's only...travelling... always upsets me." He had a cup of strong tea and later rang up the Foreign Contacts Adviser to find how he could best get to Boot.