Read Online The Longest Pleasure by Christopher Nicole - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Christopher Nicole
Tags: Novel
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leave London, eh? Just what are you cooking up? And with the Frogs, to o. You make a dangerous combina tion.'
'I wish I knew where you-got your information.'
'I have big ears.' But she was suddenly serious. 'Al! There's nothing big, I hope. It's too soon after the last one.'
'Listen, darling, I came here to pump you, not to be pumped.'
'So shoot.' She drank whisky.
'How was Moscow?'
'Very nice. I mean it Old-fashioned, but nice. Even the people are nice. The people in the street, anyway. I'm reserving judgement on the Kruschev crowd. There's something brewing there, too. Or maybe now they've sort of taken the lid off they're worrying about not being able to stick it back on again. Poland bothers them, and they don't like to talk about Ulbricht's problems. And lots of them will say, privately, that snuggling up to Tito isn't a good idea. Any use?'
'Perhaps more than you know, if you really think they have a full plate at the moment. But you enjoyed yourself.'
'I was the complete tourist. Really and truly. I went to Lenin's tomb.'
'You queued for two hours to look at a wax model?'
'Well, I didn't, actually. The Intourist boys took me to the head of the line. And I'm not sure he is a wax model, any more. It was impressive in there. Those characters really worship that guy.'
'Necrophilia leaves me cold.'
'And then, let's see, oh, I went to the art museum. The most dreadful stuff you could ever imagine. Real schoolboy daubs. But one or two war scenes were pretty terrifying. Crude, but you could catch the emotion. And they still feel that way.'
'I never showed you my collection of Beardsley sketches, did I? You must come up and see them some time.'
'I'd simply adore to, really. Or, better yet, you can bring them down to the cottage when you come. And I went to the Puppet Theatre. That's quite clever.'
'And to the Bolshoi, of course.'
'As a matter of fact, no. The big guns were touring, or something. I went to the Central Concert Hall, though. You'll never guess why.'
'Liberace was on.'
'I covered a chess championship. It's the big thing in Russia.'
'So I've heard. I thought you were supposed to be on holiday?'
'I thought it would be a good idea to cover something typically Russian, and you can't get more typical than a chess tournament. This was the Red Army Championship. I'll admit I thought it was more important than it turned out. Still, I had a word with the eventual winner. What was his name, now? A. P. Galitsin. He was a captain.'
'Galitsin, Galitsin, Galitsin. That rings a tiny bell somewhere.'
'He's a war hero. Bit of a squarehead, if you know what I mean. All Russian soldiers look like squareheads to me. It's the haircut.'
'Galitsin.' Shirley signalled the waiter. 'I'll look him up.'
*Do you really make a note of everyone you meet?'
'It's my job.'
‘I’ d love to read what you put about me.' 'Then I'll try to remember. Useful contact, certainly, if sometimes a bit vague.' 'Nothing personal?'
'As Americans go, quite tolerable. As journalists go, almost tolerable. As American women journalists go, I can't think of one I'd rather fall out of an aircraft with. Even tolerably easy on the eye, if a bit top heavy.'
'Oh, you are a lovely man. They're real, you know. They just growed.'
'And growed, and growed, and growed. Those to whom the Lord hath dispensed goodness should learn to share. I've just remembered about Galitsin. He saved my life once, in a roundabout sort of way.'
'Never.'
'Fact. He took on a tank which seemed interested in blowing up the building in which I, and most of his unit, were prudently hiding under tables. That's what he got his decoration for, I fancy. Funny thing, he had an English mother. Correction. He wouldn't appreciate that She was Scottish.'
'Don't tell me he speaks English?'
"Very well, as I remember.'
The louse. There was I, spluttering away through an interpreter ...'
'Deep, some of these Russians. Particularly the ones who play chess.'
‘I would never have
'I wish I knew where you-got your information.'
'I have big ears.' But she was suddenly serious. 'Al! There's nothing big, I hope. It's too soon after the last one.'
'Listen, darling, I came here to pump you, not to be pumped.'
'So shoot.' She drank whisky.
'How was Moscow?'
'Very nice. I mean it Old-fashioned, but nice. Even the people are nice. The people in the street, anyway. I'm reserving judgement on the Kruschev crowd. There's something brewing there, too. Or maybe now they've sort of taken the lid off they're worrying about not being able to stick it back on again. Poland bothers them, and they don't like to talk about Ulbricht's problems. And lots of them will say, privately, that snuggling up to Tito isn't a good idea. Any use?'
'Perhaps more than you know, if you really think they have a full plate at the moment. But you enjoyed yourself.'
'I was the complete tourist. Really and truly. I went to Lenin's tomb.'
'You queued for two hours to look at a wax model?'
'Well, I didn't, actually. The Intourist boys took me to the head of the line. And I'm not sure he is a wax model, any more. It was impressive in there. Those characters really worship that guy.'
'Necrophilia leaves me cold.'
'And then, let's see, oh, I went to the art museum. The most dreadful stuff you could ever imagine. Real schoolboy daubs. But one or two war scenes were pretty terrifying. Crude, but you could catch the emotion. And they still feel that way.'
'I never showed you my collection of Beardsley sketches, did I? You must come up and see them some time.'
'I'd simply adore to, really. Or, better yet, you can bring them down to the cottage when you come. And I went to the Puppet Theatre. That's quite clever.'
'And to the Bolshoi, of course.'
'As a matter of fact, no. The big guns were touring, or something. I went to the Central Concert Hall, though. You'll never guess why.'
'Liberace was on.'
'I covered a chess championship. It's the big thing in Russia.'
'So I've heard. I thought you were supposed to be on holiday?'
'I thought it would be a good idea to cover something typically Russian, and you can't get more typical than a chess tournament. This was the Red Army Championship. I'll admit I thought it was more important than it turned out. Still, I had a word with the eventual winner. What was his name, now? A. P. Galitsin. He was a captain.'
'Galitsin, Galitsin, Galitsin. That rings a tiny bell somewhere.'
'He's a war hero. Bit of a squarehead, if you know what I mean. All Russian soldiers look like squareheads to me. It's the haircut.'
'Galitsin.' Shirley signalled the waiter. 'I'll look him up.'
*Do you really make a note of everyone you meet?'
'It's my job.'
‘I’ d love to read what you put about me.' 'Then I'll try to remember. Useful contact, certainly, if sometimes a bit vague.' 'Nothing personal?'
'As Americans go, quite tolerable. As journalists go, almost tolerable. As American women journalists go, I can't think of one I'd rather fall out of an aircraft with. Even tolerably easy on the eye, if a bit top heavy.'
'Oh, you are a lovely man. They're real, you know. They just growed.'
'And growed, and growed, and growed. Those to whom the Lord hath dispensed goodness should learn to share. I've just remembered about Galitsin. He saved my life once, in a roundabout sort of way.'
'Never.'
'Fact. He took on a tank which seemed interested in blowing up the building in which I, and most of his unit, were prudently hiding under tables. That's what he got his decoration for, I fancy. Funny thing, he had an English mother. Correction. He wouldn't appreciate that She was Scottish.'
'Don't tell me he speaks English?'
"Very well, as I remember.'
The louse. There was I, spluttering away through an interpreter ...'
'Deep, some of these Russians. Particularly the ones who play chess.'
‘I would never have
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