Uncle Dynamite (8 page)

To Lord
Ickenham she seemed like some spirit of the summer day. Watching her as she
paused to tickle a passing cat and noting how under the treatment the cat
became in an instant a better, more idealistic cat, his heart went out to her.

‘Hoy!’
he cried paternally, and she came running up, floating into his arms like a
columbine.

‘I hope
I haven’t kept you waiting, Uncle Fred. I had to see a man about a bust.’

‘Not at
all,’ said Lord Ickenham. Odd, he was thinking, how everybody seemed to be
seeing men about busts today. It was only a few hours since Pongo had come
charging into his study, clamouring for one. ‘Always see men about busts. It is
the secret of a happy and successful life.’

Sally
linked her arm in his, and gave it a squeeze.

‘It’s
lovely seeing you again, angel.’

‘I am
always well worth looking at.’

‘How
wonderful of you to come. And how brave! How did you manage to sneak away?’

‘What
extraordinary verbs you employ, child.’

‘Well,
didn’t Aunt Jane say she would scalp you with a blunt knife next time you were
AWOL?’

‘In her
playful way she did say something of the sort. Odd, that craving of hers to
keep me vegetating in the country. But your honorary Aunt Jane is at the moment
on her way to the
West Indies
.
This has eased the situation a good deal. I thought it a good opportunity of
broadening my mind.’

‘Or
playing hooky.’

‘That
is another way of putting it, of course. Well, let’s find a taxi and go and get
some dinner. There’s one,’ said Lord Ickenham, as they turned the corner. ‘Hop
in. Barribault’s,’ he said to the driver, and Sally closed her eyes in a sort
of ecstasy. A girl who as a rule dined sparingly in
Soho
, she found enchantment in the mere name of
London
’s premier restaurant.

‘Barribault’s?
We’re not dressed.’

‘Grill
room. Ev. dress not oblig.’

‘But do
I look smart enough?’

‘My
dear, you look like Helen of Troy after a good facial.’ Sally leaned back
against the cushions.

‘Barribault’s!’
she murmured.

‘We
Earls step high,’ Lord Ickenham assured her. ‘The best is none too good for
us.’

‘It
must be great being an Oil.’

‘It’s
terrific. I often lie awake at night, aching with pity for all the poor devils
who aren’t.’

‘Though
I suppose you know you’re an anachronistic parasite on the body of the State?
Or so Otis says. He’s just become a Communist.’

‘He
has, has he? Well, you can tell him from me that if he starts any nonsense of
trying to hang me from a lamp-post, I shall speak very sharply to him. Doesn’t
he like Earls?’

‘Not
much. He thinks they’re blood-suckers.’

‘What
an ass that boy is, to be sure. Where’s the harm in sucking blood? We need it,
to keep us rosy. And it isn’t as if I hadn’t had to work for my little bit of
gore. People see me now the dickens of a fellow with five Christian names and a
coronet hanging on a peg in the hats and coats cupboard under the stairs, and
they forget that I started at the bottom of the ladder. For years I was a
younger son, a mere Honourable!’

‘Why
have you never told me this?’

‘I
hadn’t the heart to. A worm of an Hon. In
Debrett,
yes, but only in
small print.’

‘You’re
making me cry.’

‘I
can’t help that. Do you know how they treat Hons, Sally? Like dogs. They have
to go into dinner behind the Vice-Chancellor of the
County
Palatinate
of
Lancaster
.’

‘Well,
it’s all over now, darling.’

‘The
only bit of sunshine in their lives is the privilege of being allowed to stand
at the bar of the House of Lords during debates. And I couldn’t even do that,
my time being ear-marked for the cows I was punching in
Arizona
.’

‘I
didn’t know you had ever punched cows.’

‘As a
young man, hundreds. I had a beautiful punch in those days, straight and true,
like the kick of a mule, and never travelling more than six inches. I also
jerked soda, did a bit of newspaper work, which was when I met your father, and
had a shot at prospecting in the
Mojave Desert
. But was I happy? No. Because always at the back of my mind, like
some corroding acid, was the thought that I had to go into dinner behind the
Vice-Chancellor of the
County
Palatinate
of
Lancaster
. In the end, by pluck and perseverance, I raised myself from the
depths and became what I am today. I’d like to see any Vice-Chancellor of the
County
Palatinate
of
Lancaster
try to
squash in ahead of me now.’

‘It’s
like something out of Horatio Alger.’

‘Very
like. But I’m boring you. I’m afraid we fellows who have made good have a
tendency to go rambling on about our early struggles. Tell me of yourself. How
are you doing these days, Sally?’

‘Well,
I still go into dinner behind fashion editresses, but aside from that I’m
making out pretty satisfactorily.’

‘Trade
good?’

‘Not so
bad.’

The cab
drew up at the ornate portal of Barribault’s Hotel, and they made their way to
the grill-room. As they took their seats, Sally was sniffing luxuriously.

‘Heaven!’
she said.

‘Hungry?’

‘I’m
always hungry.’

Lord
Ickenham looked at her a little anxiously.

‘You’re
sure you’re not hard up, Sally?’

‘Not a
bit. Busts are quite brisk. It’s odd, when you think how hideous most people
are, that so many of them should want to hand their faces down to posterity.’

‘You
wouldn’t deceive me?’

‘No,
honestly. I’m opulent.’

‘Then
why did you send me that SOS? What is the very urgent matter you wanted to see
me about, with the “very” underlined?’

Sally
was silent for a moment, but only because she was eating caviare. It did not
often come her way.

‘Oh,
that? It’s about Otis.’

‘My
God!’

‘Well,
it is. I’m sorry.’

‘Otis
again! A thing I’ve noticed all my life is that the nicest girls always have
the ghastliest brothers. It seems to be a law of nature. Well, what’s the
trouble this time, and what do you want me to do?’

‘I’ll
explain about the trouble later. What I want you to do is to ask Pongo to do
something for me.’

‘Pongo?’

‘I
can’t very well approach him direct,’ said Sally.

There
was a sudden flatness in her voice which did not escape Lord Ickenham‘s quick
ear. He leaned across and petted her hand.

‘A
shame about you and Pongo, Sally.’

‘Yes.’

There
was a silence. Lord Ickenham stole a glance across the table. Sally was gazing
into the middle distance, her eyes, or so it seemed to him, suspiciously bright
and with a disposition to moisture which disquieted him. It is rarely that an
uncle is able to understand how a nephew of his can possibly cast a fatal spell
and, fond as he was of Pongo, Lord Ickenham could not see him as a breaker of
hearts. Yet it appeared plain that his loss had left a large gap in this girl’s
life. Her air was the air of one who was pining for Pongo, and it was a relief
when the waiter, arriving with
truite bleue,
broke a tension which had
begun to be uncomfortable.

‘Tell
me about Otis,’ he said.

Sally
smiled a rather twisted smile.

‘You
needn’t be tactful, Uncle Fred. I don’t mind talking about Pongo. At least ….
No, of course I don’t. Have you seen him lately?’

‘He
left me this afternoon. He turned up yesterday and spent the night.’

‘How
was he looking?’

‘Oh,
very well.’

‘Did he
speak about me?’

‘Yes.
And when I cursed him for being ass enough to part brass rags with you, he told
me the inside story.’

‘About
my wanting him to smuggle Alice Vansittart’s jewels into
America
?’

‘Yes.’

‘I was
a fool to get mad. And it was all so unnecessary, as it turned out.’

‘The
Vansittart decided on reflection to pay duty?’

‘No.
But I thought of a much better way of slipping the stuff through. I’m not going
to tell even you what it was, but it’s a peach of a way. It can’t fail.
Alice
is crazy about it.’

She
spoke with a girlish animation which encouraged Lord Ickenham to hope that her
heart was, after all, not irretrievably broken. That bright, moist look had
gone from her eyes, leaving in its place a gleam not unlike that of which Pongo
had so disapproved, when he had seen it in the eyes of his Uncle Fred.

‘She
is, is she?’

‘When I
told her, she clapped her hands in glee.’

‘You
realize, of course, that it is very wrong to deceive the United States Customs
authorities?’

‘Yes,
it makes me miserable. Poor darlings.’

‘Still,
there it is. So you and Pongo need not have split up at all.’

‘No.’

‘It was
silly of him to take your breaking the engagement so seriously. My dear wife
broke ours six times, and each time I came up smiling.’

‘I
ought to have remembered that Pongo does take things seriously.’

‘Yes. A
saintly character, but muttonheaded.’

‘And
now he’s gone and got engaged to Hermione, only daughter of Sir Aylmer Bostock
and Lady Bostock, of Ashenden Manor, Ashenden Oakshott, Hants. Oh, well. Do you
know her, Uncle Fred?’

‘No, I’ve
seen her photograph.’

‘So
have I. It was in the
Tatler.
She’s very good-looking.’

‘If you
admire that type of looks.’

‘Pongo
seems to.’

‘Yes.
For the moment you might describe him as being under the ether. But there will
be a bitter awakening.’

‘You can’t
know that just from seeing her photograph.’

‘Yes, I
can. She’ll give him the devil.’

‘Oh,
poor angel.’

There
was another silence.

‘Well,
what is it you want me to ask him to do for you?’ said Lord Ickenham. ‘I may
mention that I’m pretty sure he will do it, whatever it is. He’s still damned
fond of you, Sally.’

‘Oh,
no.’

‘He is,
I tell you. He confessed as much, in so many words.’

A
dazzling smile flashed out on Sally’s face. The waiter, who was bringing
chicken
en casserole,
caught it head-on and nearly dropped the dish.

‘Did
he?’

‘And
don’t forget that he still retained enough of the old affection to send you a
customer in the shape of Sir Aylmer Bostock.’

‘Was it
Pongo who got me that job? How like him,’ said Sally softly. ‘I love him for
that. Though unfortunately it was through my doing that bust that poor Otis’s
trouble came about.’

‘How
did that happen?’

‘Well,
to begin at the beginning, I did the bust.’

‘Quite.’

‘And
during the process, of course, my sitter and I talked of this and that.’

‘Was his
conversation entertaining?’

‘Not
very. He was rather inclined to compare my efforts to their disadvantage with
those of a sculptor who did a bust of him when he retired.’

‘The
one that stands — or stood — in the hall at Ashenden?’

‘Yes.
However did you know?’

‘Wait,
my child. I shall shortly be telling you a story of my own. Go on. He conversed
with you, but you did not find him very entertaining.’

‘No.
But he said one thing that gripped my attention, and that was that he had
written his Reminiscences and had decided after some thought to pay for their
publication. He spoke like a man who had had disappointments. So I said to
myself “Ha! A job for Otis.”‘

‘I
begin to see. Otis took it on and made a mess of it?’

‘Yes.
In a negligent moment he slipped in some plates which should have appeared in a
book on Modern Art which he was doing. Sir Aylmer didn’t like any of them much,
but the one he disliked particularly was the nude female with “Myself in the
Early Twenties” under it. The first thing I knew about it was when he sent the
bust back. Lady Bostock brought it round to my studio with a stiff note. And
now he’s bringing an action for enormous damages. If it comes off, it will
smash Otis’s poor little publishing firm. It’s all rather unfortunate.’