Bodies from the Library 3. Группа авторов

circle we have always invited here at Christmas—what there is left of it.

      ROBERT: But father—

      LORD WARBECK: As it is to be my last Christmas, I certainly don’t propose to break with tradition now.

      ROBERT: ‘The family circle’—you don’t mean that you’ve invited Julius!

      LORD WARBECK: Certainly. Cousin Julius is here now—and, according to Briggs, is filling in time putting something on the income tax.

      ROBERT: It’s all very well to make a joke of it, but—

      LORD WARBECK: Income tax is no joke, I am well aware. But Julius is the only near relation I have left alive, yourself excepted. I thought it proper to offer him hospitality.

      ROBERT: And he thought it proper to accept it! The man who more than anyone has meant ruin to us—ruin to the whole country! I suppose you realise what the effect of the new Land Tax is going to be—when—

      LORD WARBECK: (bluntly) When I die, Robert. Yes, I do. It will mean the end of Warbeck Hall. But until it does end, I mean to carry on.

      ROBERT: (loudly) Well, I—

      LORD WARBECK: Don’t shout, Robert. It’s a nasty habit you’ve acquired from speaking at street corners. Besides, it’s bad for me.

      ROBERT: I’m sorry, father. Well, who else is there in the ‘family circle’?

      LORD WARBECK: You can guess. Simply Mrs Barrett—

      ROBERT: She’s as bad as Julius. Oh, I know she was mother’s best friend, but since she married that wretched self-seeking politician, she cares for nothing but pushing him up the dirty political ladder.

      LORD WARBECK: Well, at least you won’t be troubled with the dirty politician. He’s abroad, she tells me. There is one more guest, Robert.

      ROBERT: (gloomily) I suppose you mean Camilla Prendergast.

      LORD WARBECK: Yes, I do mean your cousin Camilla, Robert. It would be a great comfort to me if before I go, I could know that your future was assured. She is very fond of you. I used to think that you were fond of her. But since you came out of the R.A.F. you seem to have changed. Why don’t you ask her, Robert? If your engagement could be announced this Christmas, I should die a happy man.

      ROBERT: Look here, father, I’ve been wanting to tell you, but it’s difficult. I—

      BRIGGS: Lady Camilla Prendergast and Mrs Barrett, my lord.

      LORD WARBECK: Camilla, my dear! You’re a sight for sore eyes! Have you a kiss for your aged step-uncle by marriage?

      CAMILLA: (clear, young voice) Of course I have! (Sound of kiss) It’s lovely to be back at Warbeck.

      LORD WARBECK: Mrs Barrett, I daren’t ask you for a kiss. You keep them all for your husband, I know. What sort of a journey have you had?

      MRS BARRETT: (middle-aged woman’s voice—inclined to gabble) Dreadful; dreadful! I thought we were never going to get through! And now we are here, goodness knows how we are to get out. The snow was so thick at Telegraph Hill …

      (Her voice fades out. Robert and Camilla speak in low voices close to the microphone. Faint sound of voices heard behind)

      CAMILLA: Well, Robert, how are you?

      ROBERT: Oh, well, thank you. Are you well?

      CAMILLA: Yes, thanks. (Pause) There doesn’t seem to be much else to say, does there?

      ROBERT: No, there doesn’t.

      CAMILLA: Look at the snow! It seems as if it would never stop. Wouldn’t it be awful if we were kept here for days and days, with nothing to say but ‘How are you?’

      ROBERT: Awful …

      MRS BARRETT: (Fading in) … Luckily the driver had chains or I don’t think we would have ever got here.

      BRIGGS: I am bringing in tea now, my lord. I have told Sir Julius that it is ready.

      JULIUS: (a self-confident, middle-aged baritone) And I’m quite ready for tea! It’s what one needs on a cold day like this.

      LORD WARBECK: Ah, Julius! You have finished grinding the faces of the rich for the day, I hope. No need to introduce you to anybody here, I think.

      JULIUS: I should think not! Camilla, you are looking more lovely than ever.

      CAMILLA: Thank you! (Laughs) I’m glad somebody notices it!

      JULIUS: And Mrs Barrett—your husband is doing a wonderful job for us in the negotiations at Washington.

      MRS BARRETT: That doesn’t surprise me, Sir Julius. I know he has the best financial brain in Parliament, even if—

      JULIUS: Even if I’m the Chancellor of the Exchequer and he isn’t, Mrs Barrett? Never mind, his time will come. We are all mortal, you know. Oh, Robert, I hadn’t seen you, how are you?

      ROBERT: (very coldly) How do you do?

      JULIUS: You’ve only just arrived?

      ROBERT: Yes. I had an important meeting in London yesterday.

      JULIUS: Quite. The League of Liberty and Justice, I suppose?

      ROBERT: (defiantly) And suppose it was? Is that any concern of yours?

      JULIUS: I think it is the concern of everybody in this country who cares for democracy.

      ROBERT: You call the present regime ‘democracy’!

      BRIGGS: Your tea, my lord.

      LORD WARBECK: Thank you, Briggs. Put it here. No, no, man, here. Camilla, will you pour out for the rest? You have no idea how I envy people who can sit up to their meals! To have to feed lying down is the most messy, uncomfortable process I know.

      CAMILLA: Let me arrange the cushions for you. That’s better, isn’t it? Does this mean that you won’t be dining with us this evening?

      LORD WARBECK: It does, Camilla. I shall, I trust, be asleep long before you have seen Christmas in. Robert will be your host on my behalf. I hope you don’t mind.

      CAMILLA: Not if Robert doesn’t. Do you take sugar, Mrs Barrett?

      MRS BARRETT: Two lumps, please. And that reminds me, Sir Julius—the increased duties on sugar. My husband feels very strongly that it would be a great mistake—

      ROBERT: (abruptly) I don’t think I want any tea. If I’m to preside at this festive affair tonight, I think I’d better have a word with Briggs about the wine.

      MRS BARRETT: Well, really! As I was saying, Sir Julius, the sugar duties …

      (Her voice fades. Microphone follows Robert)

      ROBERT: I shall be in the smoking room if you want me, father.

      (Door closes)

      God! What a woman!

      (He is heard to take a couple of steps)

      Hullo! Who are you? Where do you come from?

      ROGERS: (clipped, official voice) The name is Rogers, sir.

      ROBERT: What are you doing hanging about in the passage?

      ROGERS: Well, sir, hanging about is my job. My card, sir.

      ROBERT: (reading) ‘Metropolitan Police. Special Branch. James Rogers holds the rank of Sergeant in the Metropolitan Police. This is his warrant and authority for executing the duties of his office.’ So that’s it! Haven’t I seen you before, at some time?

      ROGERS: Yes, sir. On Sunday, September the 20th, between the hours of eight and ten p.m.

      ROBERT: What?

      ROGERS: Open air meeting,