The Unconsoled (43 page)

'Yes, yes,' I went on, 'and I'd perhaps pause a second, looking at them with mild accusation, so that everyone, the whole hall, they'd be hushed and waiting. Then finally I might say something like, well, let me see, I might say: "Ladies and gentlemen, to all of you, living here as you have for so many years, certain things may have come to appear normal, certain things which an outsider would immediately deem
conspicuous…"'

Suddenly Gustav stopped walking. At first I thought he had perhaps done so because his urge to express his thanks had become overwhelming. But then I looked at him and realised this was not the case. He had frozen on the pavement, his head pushed right over to one side by the box so that his cheek was squashed against its side. His eyes were closed tight, and his expression bore a slight frown as though he was trying to make a difficult calculation in his head. Then, as I watched, his Adam's apple moved slowly up and down his neck - once, twice, three times.

'Are you all right?' I asked, putting an arm behind him. 'Good gracious, you'd better sit down somewhere.'

I started to take the box from him, but Gustav's hands did not relinquish their grip.

'No, no, sir,' he said, his eyes still closed. 'I'm perfectly all right.'

'Are you sure?'

'Yes, yes. I'm perfectly all right.'

For a few more seconds he remained standing quite still. Then he opened his eyes and glanced about him, gave a faint laugh and began to walk again.

'You've no idea what this will mean to us, sir,' he said after we had gone several steps together. 'And after all these years.' He shook his head with a smile. 'I'll convey the news to the boys at the first opportunity. There's a lot of work this morning, but one phone call to Josef, that will do it. He'll let the others know. Can you imagine, sir, what it will mean to them? Ah, but there's your turning. I have to go on a little further. Oh, don't worry, sir, I'm perfectly all right. Miss Collins's apartment, as you know, is just down there on your right. Well, sir, I can't tell you how grateful I am. The boys will wait for tonight as they've waited for little else in their lives. I know it, sir.'

Wishing him a good day, I took the turning he had indicated. When, after a few steps, I glanced over my shoulder, Gustav was still standing on the corner watching me from around the edge of his box. Seeing me turn, he nodded his head emphatically - the box prevented him from waving - then went on his way.

The street I found myself in was a predominantly residential one. After a few blocks it grew quieter and there appeared above me the apartment houses with the Spanish-style balconies which I recognised from the night I had come down the street in Stephan's car. They stretched ahead block after block, and as I continued to walk I began to fear I might never recognise the one in front of which Boris and I had waited that night. But then I found myself stopping before a distinctly familiar entrance and after a moment I went up and peered through the glass panels on either side of the door.

The entrance hall was furnished in a tidy neutral way, and I was able to ascertain almost nothing from it. Then I remembered how that night I had watched Stephan and Miss Collins talk for a while in the front parlour before going further inside the building, and at the risk of being mistaken for an intruder I hooked a leg over the low wall and leaned across to look through the nearest window. The bright sun made it difficult for me to see inside, but I managed to make out a small stocky man in a white shirt and tie sitting alone in an armchair, more or less directly facing the window. His gaze appeared to be fixed on me, but his expression was empty and it was not at all clear whether he had registered me at all, or was simply staring out of the window lost in thought. None of this told me much, but when I pulled my leg back off the wall and looked again at the door, I felt convinced it was indeed the right one and pressed the bell for the ground-floor apartment.

After a short wait, I was gratified to see through the glazed panels Miss Collins's figure coming towards me.

'Ah, Mr Ryder,' she said opening the door. 'I was wondering if I would see you this morning.'

'How do you do, Miss Collins. After some consideration, I decided I'd take advantage of your kind suggestion that I come and call on you. But I see you have a guest already this morning.' I gestured towards her front parlour. 'Perhaps you'd prefer I came back another time.'

'I won't hear of you going away, Mr Ryder. Actually, although you suggest I'm busy, compared to an average morning it's rather quiet here today. As you see, I've only one person waiting. Just now I'm with a young couple. I've been talking to them for an hour already, but they have such deep-seated problems, they've so much to talk about and haven't been able to until today, I haven't the heart to rush them. But if you wouldn't mind waiting in the front room, it really shouldn't take much longer.' Then, suddenly lowering her voice, she said: 'The gentleman waiting now, poor man, he's just miserable and lonely and wants a few minutes of someone listening to him say so, that's all. He won't be long, I'll send him away quite quickly. He comes virtually every morning, he doesn't mind being hastened on now and again, he gets a lot of my time.' Her voice then resumed its normal tones as she continued: 'Well, please come in, Mr Ryder, don't just keep standing out there like that, even though I see it's a very pleasant day. If you liked, if no one's waiting by then, we could go and walk in the Steinberg Garden. It's very close and we've a lot to discuss, I'm sure. In fact, I've given your position quite a lot of thought already.'

'How kind of you, Miss Collins. Actually, I knew you might be busy this morning, and I wouldn't have intruded on you like this if there wasn't a certain amount of urgency involved. You see, the fact is' -I gave a heavy sigh and shook my head - 'the fact is, for one reason or another, I've not been able to go about things in quite the way I originally planned, and now, here we are, time is getting on and… Well, for one thing, as you know, I have to give my talk to the people here tonight, and to be absolutely frank with you, Miss Collins…' I almost came to a stop, but then saw her looking at me with a kindly expression and made an effort to continue. 'To be frank, there are a number of issues, local issues here, I'd like your advice on before… before I can finalise' - I paused in an attempt to stop my voice wobbling - 'before I can finalise my address. After all, all these people are depending so much on me…'

'Mr Ryder, Mr Ryder' - Miss Collins had placed her hand on my shoulder - 'please calm yourself. And do come in, please. That's better, come right in. Now please stop worrying yourself. It's very understandable you'd get a little agitated at this stage, that's perfectly natural. In fact, it's rather commendable you should be so concerned. We can discuss all these things, these local issues, don't worry, we'll do that very shortly. But let me say this much now, Mr Ryder. I do think you're worrying unduly. Yes, you'll have a lot of responsibility on your shoulders tonight, but then you've been in similar situations many many times before and by all accounts you've acquitted yourself more than creditably. Why would it be any different this time?'

'But what I'm saying to you, Miss Collins,' I said interrupting, 'is that this time it's been quite different. This time I've not been able to go
about things
…' I sighed heavily again. 'The fact is I haven't had a chance to prepare my ground in the usual way…'

'We'll talk about it all very soon. But Mr Ryder, I feel certain you're getting things out of all proportion. What have you to so concern yourself about? You have unrivalled expertise, you're a man of internationally recognised genius, really, what have you to fear? The truth is' - she lowered her voice again - 'the people in a town like this, they'd be grateful for
anything
from you. Just talk to them about your general impressions, they're not about to complain. You've nothing at all to fear.'

I nodded, realising that she indeed had a point, and almost immediately I felt a tension lifting from me.

'But we'll discuss it all very thoroughly in just a little while.' Miss Collins, her hand still on my shoulder, was guiding me through into her front parlour. 'I promise I shan't be long. Please take a seat and make yourself comfortable.'

I went into a small square room filled with sunlight and fresh flowers. The disparate assortment of armchairs suggested the waiting room of a dentist or doctor, as did the magazines on the coffee table. At the sight of Miss Collins, the stocky man rose immediately to his feet, either out of courtesy or because he hoped she would now invite him through into the drawing room. I was expecting to be introduced, but the prevailing protocol seemed indeed to be that of a waiting room, for Miss Collins merely smiled at the man before disappearing through the inner door, murmuring apologetically as she did so, apparently to us both: 'I shan't be long.'

The stocky man sat down again and gazed at the floor. I thought for a moment he would say something, but when he remained silent I turned and seated myself on a wicker couch occupying the sun-filled bay of the window I had earlier looked through. The basket work creaked reassuringly as I settled myself into it. A broad band of sunlight was falling across my lap, and there was a large vase of tulips close to my face. I immediately felt very comfortable and in a quite different frame of mind concerning what lay before me than when I had rung the doorbell only minutes before. Of course, Miss Collins was absolutely right. A town of this sort would be grateful for virtually anything I cared to offer it. It was hardly conceivable that people would scrutinise my points closely or become critical. And as Miss Collins had again pointed out, I had been in such positions countless times before. Even with my ground less well prepared than I would like, I was still bound to be able to deliver an address of some authority. As I continued to sit there in the sunshine, I found myself growing ever more tranquil, and more and more amazed I could ever have worked myself into such a state of anxiety.

'I was just wondering,' the stocky man suddenly said to me. 'Are you still in touch with any of the old crowd? People like Tom Edwards? Or Chris Farleigh? Or those two girls who used to live at the Flooded Farmhouse?'

I realised then that the stocky man was Jonathan Parkhurst, whom I had known reasonably well during my student days in England.

'No,' I said to him, 'unfortunately I've rather lost touch with everyone from those days. Having to move around from country to country as I do, it's just impossible.'

He nodded without smiling. 'I suppose it must be difficult,' he said. 'Well,
they
all remember
you
. Oh yes. When I was back in England last year I met up with a few of them. They'd all apparently been meeting once a year or so. I envy them sometimes, but mostly I'm glad I haven't got myself stuck in a circle like that. That's why I like living out here, I can be anyone I want here, people don't expect me to be the clown all the time. But you know, when I went back, when I met them in this pub, they immediately started again. "Hey, it's old Parkers!" they all shouted. They still call me that, as though no time at all had gone by. "Parkers! It's old Parkers!" They actually made this big braying noise to welcome me when I first came in, oh God, I can't tell you how awful it was. And I could feel myself turning back into that pathetic clown I came here to get away from, yes, from the moment they started that braying noise. It was a nice enough pub, mind you, a typical old English country pub, a real fire, those little brass things all over the bricks, an old sword over the mantelpiece, a hearty landlord saying cheerful things, all of that was very nostalgic, I do miss it all living out here. But the rest of it, my God, it makes me shudder just to think of it. They made that braying noise, fully expecting me to come bounding up to the table clowning away. And all through the evening, they kept mentioning one name after another, it wasn't as though they even discussed them, they just made more noises, or else laughed immediately they mentioned another name. You know, they'd mention someone like Samantha, and they'd all laugh and cheer and whoop. Then they'd call out some other name, Roger Peacock, say, and they'd all break out into some sort of football chant. It was quite awful. But the worst of it was they all expected me to be the clown again and I just couldn't do anything about it. It was like it was completely unthinkable I could have become someone else, and so I started it all again, the funny voices, the faces, oh yes, I found I could still do it all very well. I suppose they'd no reason to suppose I didn't carry on like that out here. In fact, that's exactly what one of them said. I think it was Tom Edwards, at one point in the evening, they were all very drunk, he slapped me hard on the back and said: "Parkers! They must love you out there! Parkers!" I suppose this must have been just after I'd done another of my turns for them, perhaps I'd been telling them about some aspect of life out here and I'd been clowning it up a bit, who knows, anyway that's what he said and the others were laughing and laughing. Oh yes, I was a big hit. They all kept saying how much they missed me, I was always such a good laugh, oh it was so long since I'd heard anyone say such a thing, so long since I'd been received like that, it was so warm and friendly. And yet what was I doing that for again? I'd vowed never to be like that, that's why I came out here. Even as I was walking to the pub, I'd been saying to myself all the way down the lane, it was very chilly that night, foggy and very chilly, I was telling myself all the way down the lane, that was years ago, I'm not like that any more, I'm going to show them how I am now, and I said it over and over trying to make myself strong, but as soon as I walked in and saw that warm fire and they did that braying noise to welcome me, oh, it's been so lonely out here. Okay, here I don't have to do all those faces and funny voices, but at least that all worked. It may have been intolerable, but it worked, they all loved me, my old university friends, poor sods, they must believe I'm still like that. They'd never guess it, that my neighbours think I'm this very solemn, rather dull Englishman. Polite, they think, but very dull. Very lonely and very dull. Well, at least that's better than being Parkers again. That braying noise, oh, how pathetic, a group of middle-aged men making that sort of noise, and me, pulling my faces and doing those silly voices, oh God, it was truly nauseating. But I couldn't help it, it was so long since I'd been surrounded by friends like that. What about you, Ryder, don't you long for those days sometimes? Even you with all your success? Oh yes, that's what I was going to tell you. You may not remember any of them very well now, but they certainly remember
you
all right. Whenever they have one of these little reunions, it seems, there's a little part of the evening devoted specially to you. Oh yes, I've witnessed it. They go through a lot of the other names first, they don't like to get to you straight away, you know, they like a good run-up. They actually have little pauses when they all pretend they can't think of any more people from those days. Then finally one of them says: "What about Ryder? Anyone heard of him lately?" Then they all explode, making the most disgusting noise, something half-way between a jeer and a retch. They do it all together, repeatedly, really, that's all they do for about the first minute after your name's mentioned. Then they start to laugh and then they all start to mimic piano-playing, you know, like this' - Parkhurst put on a haughty expression and played an invisible keyboard in a highly precious manner - 'they all do this, then make more retching noises. Then they start in on the stories, little things they remember about you, and you can tell they've already told them to each other many times over because they all know, they all know at which points to make the noises again, at which point to say: "What? You're kidding!" and so on. Oh, they really enjoy themselves. The time I was there, someone was remembering the evening the finals finished, how they were all getting ready to go out on the piss for the night and saw you coming up the road looking very serious. And they'd said to you: "Come on, Ryder, come and get pissed out of your brain with us!" and apparently you'd replied, and here whoever's telling it puts on this face, apparently you'd said' - Parkhurst once more transformed into the haughty creature and his voice assumed a preposterously pompous tone - ' "I'm much too busy. I can't afford not to practise tonight. I've missed two days' practice on account of these horrid exams!" Then they all make the retching noise together, and do their piano-playing in the air, and that's when they start… Well, I won't tell you some of the other things they get up to, they're quite appalling, they're a loathsome lot and so unhappy, most of them, so frustrated and angry.'