Looking out between the pillars at the raindrops glinting on the cobbles of a broad open space, turning the whole thing over in the mind, much seemed to me inevitable, as always contemplating the past. At the same time, although many things had gone wrong, several difficulties had been successfully surmounted. For instance, the prosecution of Sweetskin had been parried; the verdict, ‘Not Guilty’. Nevertheless, the case had cost money, caused a lot of worry to the directors. Alaric Kydd himself had been so certain that he would be sent to prison for uttering an obscene work that he let his flat on rather good terms for eighteen months; later finding difficulty in obtaining satisfactory alternative accommodation. He was also wounded by the tone of voice — certainly a very silly one — in which prosecuting counsel read aloud in court certain passages from his novel.
More damaging to the firm in a way, though morally rather than financially, was the Sad Majors affair. Bagshaw leaked an account of that. He had come back to the office in a restless, resentful mood after his bout of flu, according to Ada, spending the first forty-eight hours of convalescence drinking, then retiring to bed again for a further day before settling down. Whether or not he had deliberately kept the Trapnel parody ‘on the spike’ for use at the most appropriate occasion was never cleared up. Most probably, as in previous episodes of Bagshaw’s history, an infallible instinct for causing trouble had brought guidance without need of exact knowledge. Widmerpool appeared to have made no complaint to the board. He remained out of touch with Quiggin & Craggs long after the Court Circular announced his return from the People’s Republic, where he had been paying his visit. No doubt he was busy with parliamentary affairs. There was in any case not much he could do. If Fission had not ceased publication, Bagshaw’s contract would in any case have run out. He had dropped hints that he himself wanted to move. No one was going to stand in his way. The fact was that Bagshaw was by now attracted by the promise of helping to open up the still mainly unexplored eldorado of television.
Bagshaw took pleasure in elaborating the Odo Stevens story. He did not like Stevens as a man, but admired him as an adventurer. They used to meet when Stevens from time to time looked into the Fission office to see if there were a book to review. Stevens had developed an additional contact with the magazine on account of his association with Rosie Manasch. Never backward at publicizing his successes, he did not at present convey more than that he had an ally in that quarter. If Rosie had decided she needed relaxation with a man considerably younger than herself, she was agreed to have had a distressing time in many ways, and Stevens, whatever his failings, had the advantage of being a figure not to be taken too seriously. Both parties were judged well able to look after themselves. That was how it seemed at the time. However, even at an early stage the relationship was sufficiently strong to play a part in the Quiggin & Craggs upheaval. This came about when the Sad Majors controversy, simmering for some little while, took aggressive shape. Bagshaw, always interested in a row of this sort, was ravished by a move now made.
‘You can’t help admiring the way Gypsy does things. Good old hard-core stuff. You know the trouble about the Stevens book — thought to bring discredit on the Party. Gypsy’s performed one of those feats that most people don’t think of on account of their ruthless simplicity. She has quite simply liquidated the manuscript. Both copies.’
‘Aren’t there more than two copies?’
‘Apparently not.’
‘How did she get hold of them?’
‘After much argument, the original MS had been sent to the printer to be cast off. It was to be allowed to go ahead anyway as far as proof. Then Howard said he’d like to reread the book in peaceful surroundings, so he borrowed the carbon, and took it home with him. A day or two later, Gypsy, that’s her story, thought it was another manuscript Howard had asked her to post to Len Pugsley — who sometimes does reading for the firm, he poked Gypsy briefly — and Len says the parcel never arrived. He was moving house at the time. Stevens’s carbon seems to have gone astray between the Oval and Chalk Farm. Meanwhile, the printers got a telephone message, the origins of which no one can trace, to send back the MS they were to cast off. There was some question about it to be settled editorially. Now that copy can’t be found either.’
‘Stevens will have to write it again?’
‘That’s where the neatness of the sabotage comes in. Rewriting will take a longish time. By the time it’s finished the poor impression Stevens gives of the Comrades and their behaviour will, with any luck, be out of date — anyway in the eyes of the reading public. At worst, all ancient history.’
‘How’s Stevens taking the loss?’
‘He’s pretty cross. Can you blame him? The more interesting point is that Rosie Manasch is very cross too. In fact she’s withdrawn her support from the mag in consequence of her crossness with Quiggin & Craggs as a firm. That’s awkward, because — though personally I think a lot of unnecessary fuss was made about the Trapnel parody — the rest of the board don’t feel it a good moment to stir up Widmerpool.’
‘Is Stevens getting compensation?’
‘You haven’t studied the writing paper. The greatest care is taken of manuscripts, but no responsibility. However, they’ve allowed the contract to be cancelled.’
‘That was handsome.’
Compared with the Stevens row, the disappointment caused by Sillery’s Diary, after all the haggling about terms, and high advance, was a minor blow, though again there were repercussions. The extracts were called Garnered at Sunset: Leaves from an Edwardian Journal.
‘A masterpiece of dullness,’ said Bagshaw. ‘JG read it. Howard read it. For once they were in complete agreement. The only thing to do will be to publish, and hope for the best. I’m surprised at Ada. She’s strung them along over Sillery.’
Ada’s policy in the matter, as not seldom, was enigmatic, probably dictated by a mixture of antagonistic considerations. The Diary, seen as one of the paths to a career, had not been truly subjected to her usually sharp judgment. Its lack of interest had been obscured by inner workings of the curious kind of flirtation she and Sillery had shared. Those elements might be put forward as excuse for the recommendation. It was also possible, knowing Sillery as she did, that Ada had genuinely found Garnered at Sunset absorbing. Publishers’ readers, as Quiggin remarked, are no less subjective than other animals. It might be thought that this critical lapse on Ada’s part would have prejudiced her position in the firm. On the contrary, nothing more retributive was visited on her than that Quiggin proposed marriage.
Bagshaw suggested that an emotional scene contingent on some sort of reprimand on the subject of the Sillery Journal, had brought things to a head, but there can be no doubt an offer of marriage was already at the back of Quiggin’s mind. The fact that the firm was moving towards a close had nothing to do with it. He was accepted. As a married man, the place he had found on the board of Clapham’s firm would be advantageous; on the whole a step forward in a publishing career. The two of them were quietly married one August afternoon before the Registrar; Mark Members and L. O. Salvidge, witnesses. Craggs and Gypsy were not asked. Craggs had announced he was going into semi-retirement when the firm closed down, but it seemed likely that he would continue his activities, at least in an inconspicuous manner, with many little interests of a political sort that had always engrossed him. All these things played a part, others too, in the winding up of Quiggin & Craggs, representative of common enough impediments to running a publishing house; exceptional, in as much as they were exceptional, only on account of the individuals concerned. The climax, in an odd way, seemed to be the night spent with Trapnel and Bagshaw. That had been rather different. By then, in any case, both magazine and publishing business had received the death sentence. All the same that night — the symbolic awfulness of its events — was something to put a seal on the whole affair. It confirmed several other things too.