The Military Philosophers - Anthony Powell [33]
‘Room’s not looking very smart for a party,’ he said.
A minute or two later Norah Tolland arrived. Her companion – ‘girl-friend’, as Jeavons had termed her – turned out to be Pamela Flitton. Norah was in uniform, which suited her. She was, in general, more settled, more sure of herself than when younger, though on this particular occasion the presence of Pamela seemed to make her both elated and nervous.
‘Ted, I felt sure you wouldn’t mind my bringing Pam,’ she said. ‘She’s having dinner with me tonight. It seemed so much easier than meeting at the restaurant.’
‘Most welcome,’ said Jeavons.
He looked Pamela over. Jeavons examining a woman’s points was always in itself worth observing. If good-looking, he stared at her as if he had never before seen anything of the kind, though at the same time determined not to be carried away by his own astonishment. Pamela justified this attention. She was wearing a neat black frock, an improvement on her battledress blouse. It was clear she had established over Norah an absolute, even if only temporary, domination. Norah’s conciliatory manner showed that
‘Have a drink?’ said Jeavons.
‘What have you got?’
Pamela glanced aggressively round the room, catching my eye, but making no sign of recognition.
‘Gin-and-orange.’
‘No whisky?’
‘Sorry.’
‘I’ll have gin-and-water – no, neat gin.’
I went across to her.
‘Escaped from the ATS?*
‘Got invalided.’
‘A lady of leisure?’
‘My job’s a secret one.’
Jeavons took her lightly by the arm and began to introduce her to the other guests. She shook his hand away with her elbow, but allowed him to tell her the names of two or three persons who worked with him. When introductions were over, she picked up a paper from the table – apparently some not very well printed periodical – and took it, with her glass of gin, to the furthest corner of the room. There she sat on a stool, listlessly turning the pages. Norah, talking to Isobel, gave an anxious glance, but did not take any immediate steps to join Pamela, or try to persuade her to be more sociable. A talkative elderly man with a red face, one of the ARP guests, engaged me in conversation. He said he was a retired indigo planter. Jeavons himself went across the room and spoke to Pamela, but he must have received a rebuff, because he returned a second or two later to the main body of the guests.
‘She’s reading our ARP bulletin,’ he said.
He spoke with more surprise than disapproval; in fact almost with admiration.
‘Read the poem in this number?’ asked the indigo planter. ‘Rather good. It begins “What do you carry, Warden dear?” Gives a schedule of the equipment – you know, helmet, gas-mask, First Aid, all that – but leaves out one item. You have to guess. Quite clever.’
‘Jolly good.’
Norah, evidently not happy about Pamela, separated herself from Isobel soon after this, and went across to where her friend was sitting. They talked for a moment, but, if Norah too hoped to make her circulate with the rest, she was defeated. When she returned I asked her what her own life was like.
‘I was with Gwen McReith’s lot for a time. Quite fun, because Gwen herself is amusing. I first met Pam with her, as a matter of fact.’
‘Pam seems quite a famous figure.’
Norah sighed.
‘I suppose she is now,’ she said.
‘Is she all right over there in the corner?’
‘No good arguing with her.’
‘I mean we both of us might go over and talk to her.’
‘For God’s sake not’
Nothing of any note took place during the rest of the party, until Norah and Pamela were leaving. Throughout that time, Pamela had continued to sit in the corner. She accepted another drink from Jeavons, but ceased to read the ARP bulletin, simply looking straight in front of her. However, before she and Norah went off together, an unexpected thing happened. She came across the room and spoke in her accustomed low, almost inaudible tone.
‘Are you still working with the Poles?’
‘No – I’ve switched to the Belgians and Czechs.’
‘When you were with the Poles, did you ever hear the name Szymanski?’
‘It’s a very common Polish name, but i£ you mean the man who used to be with the Free French, and caused endless trouble, then transferred to the Poles, and caused endless trouble there, I know quite a lot about him.