A Choice of Enemies (18 page)

“She’s fainted.”

“Keep your filthy hands off her.”

Norman put on his jacket.

“Just one thing before you go, Iago. Do you understand why you did it at least?”

“No. You tell me.”

“You wanted to belittle me before my wife,” Charlie applied his hand to his forehead like a poultice. “I’m sending Winkleman his money back in the morning. It’s your script. You take the credit and the money.”

“This is all a bad dream,” Norman said. “I’ll wake up and none of it will have happened.”

“Bring in the violins. Go ahead. Try to put me in the wrong.”

Joey began to groan.

“Jesus,” Norman said.
“Good night.”

“Good night and good bye.”

When Ernst got home around eleven that night Sally was still sitting up in bed. Her eyes were burnt dry, and she was pale. Ernst kissed
her streaky blond hair and then rested with his head on her lap. She kissed the scar on the back of his neck again and again. She lay with her hot cheek against his head. Ernst kissed her fingers one by one.

“Mrs. Buller phoned. She wants you to build some bookcases. She asked if you could come round early Monday morning.”

“What did you say?”

“I said I thought you were free.”

“She’s nice.”

“Mrs. Buller? Isn’t she the one who complained about your work?”

“No. That’s Mrs. Hellman.”

Norman was typing late. They could hear him.

“Tired?”

“Yeah. I’m tired.”

“Me too.”

He went to the window and took down the curtains. “They’re dirty,” he said. “I think I’ll wash them.”

The noise of the tap briefly drowned out the typewriter downstairs, but soon the rat-tat-tat was with them again. Ernst hung up the curtains to dry over the back of a chair.

“Are you hungry?”

“No,” he said. “I ate.”

Norman’s door slammed, but he had only gone to the toilet. The typing started up again.

“Play something on the guitar,” she said.

“What will we drown him out with tomorrow night,” he asked, “the record player?” He sat down on a pillow with his guitar. “I didn’t intend to come back.”

“You’re here. I’m glad you’re here.”

“You are beautiful,” he said. “I love you.”

“The world outside,” she said. “Their world. It’s not much good.” She told him about the old man and his electronically controlled ship. “I went up to the Heath,” she said.

“I was in Soho. I looked at all the movie posters.”

“Oh, my darling love. Oh, my darling.”

“It’s not fair to you. I shouldn’t have come back.”

The typewriter stopped, stopped for five full minutes, and then began again.

“Tap on the floor,” she said.

“No.”

“He said we should do that any time he disturbed us.”

“No.”

“Go ahead. He won’t mind.”

“
NO
.”

“I would have died if you hadn’t come back.”

“I would like to tell you about it. I want you to know exactly how it happened.”

“No,” she said. “Some other time.”

He told her that he had run away from the refugee camp at Sandbostel with the idea of robbing an American soldier of his identity papers and making his way to Paris. He had met three soldiers in a bar in Munich. One of them, a Jew, had not liked him. The second he could hardly remember. The third had been Nicky. The trouble, he said, had started when the four of them had gone to the jazz cellar.

“I liked Nicky,” Ernst said, “and I was looking for a way to show him how I felt. When the other boy – not the Jew – began to feel sick I took him down to the toilet with me. I took his wallet. But I wasn’t stealing. I thought that I would return it to Nicky later and tell him that one of the whores in the cellar had stolen it from him. I thought it would make a good impression. But the Jew –”

“Don’t keep saying the ‘Jew’. The boy must have a name.”

“I forget it.”

“Call him Harry.”

“No. I’ll call him Lester. That was more like it.”

“Anything, but not the ‘Jew’.”

“O.K
. But Lester found out about the wallet first. When I returned it to Nicky later he didn’t believe my story; he turned against me.”

He told her about the party. Nancy, and the room upstairs.

“I didn’t want to fight with Nicky. I swear it. I just wanted to get out before the
M.P
.s came. But he wouldn’t let me go. He came at me with a broken bottle in his hand. I didn’t want to be scarred. I’m handsome, it is one of the few things I have, and I need it.” Ernst averted his eyes. “So I took out my knife. He came at me like a madman and –”

“Never mind the details.”

“… afterwards I stole his identity papers. That’s all. That’s the whole story.”

Sally made no comment.

“Perhaps,” he said wearily, “it would be best if I left.”

“No,” she said, “I –”

“I would understand. Please don’t try to make me stay if.…”

“How can I let you go?”

Norman stopped typing. They heard him go out.

“I’ll sleep on the floor tonight.” She protested.

“Please,” he said, “don’t argue. It’s just something I feel.”

“But –”

“The floor will be fine. I’ll spread my coat under me.”

“All right,” she said. “If you insist.”

Both of them were still awake when Norman returned about an hour later. He was quiet, he seemed to be walking on tip-toe, but they both heard him.

“Ernst, I just remembered something awful.”

Sally told him that Norman had been to Canada House. There would be a check on him, she said.

“We’ll have to leave here,” Ernst said.

“We’ll give Karp our notice tomorrow afternoon,” she said. “As soon as I get home from work.”

“It has been a long day,” Ernst said.

They would have to flee to another country, Sally thought. They would have to hide. “What?” she asked.

“It has been a long Sunday.”

Fugitives, she thought. “Ernst,” she asked, “do you remember our first day together?”

“Of course,” he said. “I slept on the floor that night too.”

“Do you know why I asked you to stay?”

“No,” he said.

“It was because of the way you came up from behind to kiss me when I was washing my blouse. I had never been kissed like that before.”

“Good night,” he said. “I love you.”

“Good night, my darling.”

With manifest skill Karp injected a ham with a hypodermic of brandy, massaged the ham’s surface with honey, stuck cloves in here and there, and eased the pan into the oven. He hadn’t had anything to eat all day; he was famished. Karp decided to begin his meal with an artichoke and to eat the ham with sweet potatoes and corn fritters. Following that, perhaps, he would have a Chinese lettuce with lemon sauce and cheese cake and coffee. Karp washed his hands and rubbed them with cold cream. He slipped into his dressing gown and sat down in his living room with a glass of sherry. Then there came a loud knock at the door.

“I’ve been expecting you,” Karp said.

Ernst nodded. Sally managed a sour smile.

“Come,” he said, “one should feel free to call on one’s landlord at any time.”

They sat down uneasily as Karp filled their glasses.

“You must come to visit more often,” Karp directed his smile at Ernst. “You ought to take better care of her. Only the other day I was saying to myself what a lovely creature Sally is.”

“Thank you.”

“I hope,” Karp said, “that there has been no repetition of last night’s fainting spell.”

Ernst looked surprised.

“Oh, I feel fine,” Sally said. “Really I do.” She looked down at the thickly carpeted floor. “We’ve come to give you our notice.”

“We’ve found a little flat for ourselves.”

“How come,” Karp asked, “that you have the army identity papers of Nicolas Singleton?”

Ernst turned accusingly to Sally.

“He came in for tea while you were out yesterday morning. I ran out to get milk and he must have –”

“You see,” Karp said, “when Norman heard of his death there were no details. We presumed that he had died on manoeuvres. An accident, perhaps.… One minute. I’ll be right with you.”

In the kitchen Karp opened the oven and ran a finger over the ham and licked the honey off it. He lowered the gas a fraction before he returned to the living room.

“It was foolish of you not to burn the papers,” Karp said, “if you killed him.”

“I bought the identification papers from a dealer in Munich. That’s how I happen to have them.”

“And is that,” Karp asked, “why you are both planning to run away?”

“We have found a flat.”

“You know, of course, that Norman isn’t well.” Karp leaned back and sighed. “A very tricky business it is. Although he has not had an attack of amnesia for some time he is still not supposed to be exposed to over-excitement.” Karp rose. “Excuse me.”

He poured a little more honey over the ham. It had begun to crackle. In the living room again he noticed that Ernst had moved his chair closer to Sally. They had been holding hands.

“When I first met Norman Price I was a hospital orderly. This house, everything, I owe it all to him. He has never asked for a favour
in return.” Karp adjusted himself more comfortably in his chair. “What would you do in my position?”

“In your position,” Ernst said, “I would have spoken to Norman immediately.”

“But he’s sick,” Sally began. “You said that over-excitement.…”

“Supposing,” Karp said, “I didn’t tell him. Then what?”

“We would speak to him ourselves,” Sally said.

“Supposing one didn’t believe you?”

“There’s nothing we could do about that,” Ernst said.

“Frankly speaking,” Karp said to Sally, “he is not the most trustworthy person in the world, is he?”

The aroma of baking ham filled the room sweetly.

“Why haven’t you offered me money?” Karp asked. “A person of my race, I mean. That, one would have thought, would have been your first move.”

“How much do you want?” Sally asked quickly.

“Don’t be a fool,” Ernst said. “He’s making fun of us.”

“Am I?”

“How much
do
you want?”

“Why is it,” Karp asked, “that people will believe anything of me – and my kind – and not,” he said, pointing at Ernst, “of his?”

“Ernst has done you no harm.”

“Look at me,” Karp said, “and what do you see?”

“Stop bugging her.”

“Potatoes! A short, fat Polish potato-eater. We’re all marked with the same grey puffy face.” Karp laughed a deprecating laugh. “Don’t you think that I, too, would like to be tall and – and have a mistress as pretty as her?”

Sally shuddered. “Aren’t you a homosexual?” she asked.

Karp smiled acidly at Ernst.

“I’m sorry,” Sally whispered.

“She doesn’t care what you are. Neither do I.”

Karp spread out his hands and bounced the fingertips of one
against the other. “The young,” he said, “how I despise the clumsy young people. I’ll be right back.” Opening the oven he saw that the ham was doing splendidly. He lowered the gas and put the sweet potatoes in to bake. Then, after he had wiped each of his fingers individually, he returned to his guests. Ernst and Sally had risen from their chairs. “Are you going?” he asked. “So soon.”

“Sally is tired.”

“I upset her.”

“She’s tired.”

“But Norman won’t be here for another –”

“Are you going to tell him?” Sally asked.

Karp eased himself into his chair again and sipped his sherry pensively.

“Mr. Karp, please … It wasn’t Ernst’s fault. Not exactly.…”

“Where were you,” Karp asked Ernst, “when I was in the camp?”

“His father was in a camp too.”

“Certainly.”

“I was in the Hitler Youth.”

“Why didn’t you run away before she found out,” Karp asked. “Why didn’t you spare her?”

“I love her.”

“So,” he said wearily, “he loves you.”

“We love each other.”

“Is that funny?” Sally asked. “Do you find that so funny?”

“I won’t tell Norman,” Karp said severely. “Not tonight anyway. But don’t you dare run away from here. If you run away I’ll find you.”

They went back to their room and unpacked. Sally wept.

Joey came to see Norman later in the afternoon. “If you let me in,” she said, “I promise not to throw another tantrum.” She wore a tight green woollen dress. Her brown face was itchy with panic.

“Anything wrong?” Norman asked, taking her coat.

“It’s Charlie. You must help me, Norman. I’m going crazy.”

“He sent me a post-dated cheque for two hundred pounds this morning,” Norman said, “and a note saying that he didn’t want his name to appear anywhere in the film credits. That’s stupid, Joey. It’s his money; he earned it. Will you take it back to him?”

“It’s no use. He won’t have it.”

“Are you broke?”

“Worse. But we’ve been broke before – Tell me the truth, Norman, do you think I’ve stood in his way all these years?”

“Is that what he says?”

“He’s always supported my family, you know. It adds up to a hell of a lot.”

“You’ve been terrific for Charlie at any price. I mean that.”

Joey hastened to the window. “He thinks I’m having an affair with you.” She looked up and down the street anxiously. “I’m afraid he may have followed me here.”

“Easy.” Norman circled her waist and stroked her head gently. “Charlie wouldn’t do a thing like that.”

“Did you know that he meets with Karp now and then?” Joey asked.

“Karp?”

“Charlie didn’t have to leave the States. He was still in the clear.”

“Let’s take one thing at a time,” he said, leading her to a chair. “Why is he seeing Karp?”

“They talk about you a lot. That’s all I know.”

“Karp’s condition is psychotic, Joey. He teases people the way a boy pokes at snakes with sticks. He’s a kind of provocateur. I’m telling you this because it would appeal to Karp’s malign sense of humour to abuse me to Charlie.”

Joey’s laugh came out a catch, a stab, an ache at a time. “I learn new things about you every day,” she said. “I used to believe you were the one person who didn’t give a damn what people said about you.
Now, in your devious way, you’re trying to tell me not to believe the horrible things Karp must be telling Charlie about you.”