Read Online A Coat of Varnish by C. P. Snow - Free Book Online Page A

walked home, or had their carriages waiting at a discreet distance.
    ‘Had you heard about that, Grandmama?’
    For a moment, Lady Ashbrook melted into an astringent smile.
    ‘Rather before my time, you know. Do you really think I’m a hundred?’
    After the bridge party, Humphrey had nothing to fill the day until eight o’clock. He had arranged, as part of Kate’s secret services to her protégée Susan, to take Tom Thirkill out to dinner. Though the two of them had met several times, with Thirkill making demonstrations of cordiality, it had been the professional cordiality of a politician. When Humphrey had sent a note round to Eaton Square he hadn’t received an acceptance for three days. Humphrey understood well enough. Persons living in the public scene might be cordial to anonymous neighbours, but didn’t encourage them. For a man like Thirkill, engagements were for a purpose. Humphrey had no doubt that Thirkill had been making enquiries about him, easy if one had access to Ministers, and was deciding whether the man was any use to him, or alternatively might be a nuisance if he were turned down.
    It had been something of an effort to find a place in London to have dinner on a Sunday night. By himself Humphrey lived simply, apart from a taste in wine. His old housekeeper gave him the meals he had been content with as a young bachelor, and alone that night it would have been a cutlet and cheese. If he were going to get anything like confidence from Tom Thirkill, that didn’t seem adequate, and Humphrey booked a table at the Berkeley. The random thought occurred to him, entertaining rich men was always expensive, the more so the richer they became: one somehow performed as though they were entertaining you.
    Prompt on the stroke of eight, Thirkill’s car drew up outside the house. Thirkill stepped out, limber and vigorous, giving an impression that he could dismiss trouble because he was happy in his own health. He was personable in an actor’s fashion, not uncommon in politicians, strong facial lines, jaw a shade underhanging. ‘Good evening to you.’ His voice resounded. ‘Where are we going?’
    Humphrey told him, was instructed not to trouble about his own car, Thirkill would do the transport.
    ‘This is very civil of you, I must say,’ Thirkill remarked, as he drove through the quiet and empty streets.
    ‘I’ve always wanted to have the chance to talk with you,’ Humphrey replied.
    ‘So have I, so have I.’ It wasn’t the first time that either of them had had that particular exchange, though with different partners.
    The Berkeley dining-room was cool after the air outside, not crowded, conversation subdued. As they sat at their table, Thirkill having refused any drink but tomato juice, Humphrey said: ‘Rather different from last night.’
    ‘What are you getting at?’
    ‘I was in the pub. Didn’t you see in the papers?’
    There had been headlines, Vandals in Belgravia . Unfair to Vandals, Humphrey commented, but Thirkill wasn’t interested in reference to fifth-century history.
    ‘Oh, that,’ he said.
    ‘It wasn’t pretty.’
    ‘I think you must accept’ – Thirkill could, without effort, suddenly speak with force, and did so now – ‘that when people get better off they are going to behave worse. That is, by our standards.’
    ‘By any standards, I would have thought.’
    ‘Could be. Respect has gone out of the window. But you must accept, the respect isn’t going to come back when people are better off. We may not like it, but there you are. And I’m sure you wouldn’t think so, but that is no reason under heaven for not making people better off.’
    It didn’t take him long to order his meal. Humphrey had made a misjudgment. Thirkill was less self-indulgent than he was himself. Soup and a cutlet would have been more than enough for him. Further, he drank very little. One glass of wine, perhaps. Humphrey would have to sink the bottle without further help.
    At the same time