‘It’s all a supposition,’ Harvey said. ‘I’m not convinced that this woman-terrorist is my wife, nor that my wife is a terrorist. As for Nathan Fox, he’s a mystery to me, but I wouldn’t have thought he’d draw attention to himself by going off and joining an armed band at the very moment when they were active.’
‘If your wife is a fascinating woman —’I hope,’ said Harvey, ‘that you’re taking special precautions to protect the baby.’
‘You admit that the baby might be in danger?’
‘With an armed gang around, any baby might be in danger.’
‘But you admit that your wife’s baby might be an object of special interest to your wife.’
‘She has taken no interest in the child.’
‘Then why are you suggesting that we specially protect this child?’
‘I hope you have made arrangements to do so,’ said Harvey.
‘We have your house and grounds surrounded.’
‘The baby,’ said Harvey, ‘must be sent back to England. My sister-in-law will take her.’
‘A good idea. We can arrange for them to leave, quietly, with every protection. But it would be advisable for you to keep the move as secret as possible. I mean the press. We don’t want this gang to know every move. I warn you to be careful what you say to the press. The examining magistrate —’The press! They’ve already —The man spread his hands helplessly. ‘This wasn’t my fault. These things leak out. After all, it’s a matter of national concern. But not a word about your plans to send the child away.
‘The maid will know. They talk —’
‘Anne-Marie is one of our people,’ said the inspector.
‘You don’t say! We rather liked her.’
‘She’d better stay on with you, then. And hang out baby clothes on the line, as you always want to do. I might look in again soon.’
‘Don’t stand on ceremony.
‘How is it possible,’ Ruth said, ‘that the police think the gang might turn up here, now that this story’s all over the papers, on the radio, the television? It’s the last place they would come to. Clara’s safer here than anywhere. How can they think —’
‘The police don’t think so, they only say they think so.’
‘Why?’
‘How do I know? They suspect me strongly. They want the baby out of France. Maybe it’s got something to do with their public image.’
‘I don’t want to go,’ said Ruth.
‘I don’t want you to go,’ said Harvey, ‘but I think you should. It’s only for a while. I think you must.’
‘Are you free to come, too? Harvey, let’s both get away. ‘On paper, I’m free to go. In fact, they might detain me. The truth is, I don’t want to leave just at this moment. Just bloody-mindedness on my part.’
‘I can be stubborn, too,’ said Ruth; but she spoke with a fluidity that implied she was giving way. ‘But, after all,’ she went on, ‘I suppose you didn’t ask me to come here in the first place.’
Harvey thought, I don’t love her, I’m not in the least in love with her. Much of the time I don’t even like her very much.
Anne-Marie had put some soup on the table. Harvey and Ruth were silent before her, now that she wasn’t a maid but a police auxiliary. When she had left, Ruth said, ‘I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep this down. I’m pregnant.’
‘How did that happen?’ Harvey said.
‘The same as it always happens.’
‘How long have you known?’
‘Three weeks.’
‘Nobody tells me anything,’ Harvey said.
‘You don’t want to know anything.’
Had Ruth stopped taking the pill? Was it his child or Nathan’s? She didn’t guess his first thought, but she did his second. ‘I never slept with Nathan, ever,’ she said. ‘His mind’s on Effie — That’s one thing I didn’t mention to the police.’
‘Take some bread with your soup. You’ll keep it down better.’
‘You know, I’d rather not go back to England. Now that Edward’s having this amazing success —
‘What success?’
‘He’s having an astonishing success on the West End. That play —’
‘Well, how long have you known about this?’
‘Three weeks. It’s been in the papers, and he wrote —’
‘Nobody tells me anything.’
‘I think it funny Edward hasn’t rung us up to-day. He must have seen the papers,’ Ruth said. ‘Maybe it scared him. A scandal.’
‘Where would you like to go?’ Harvey said.
‘Have you got anyone in Canada I could take Clara to?’
‘I have an aunt and I have an uncle in Toronto. They’re married but they live in separate houses. You could go to either. I’ll ring up.
‘I’ll go to the uncle,’ said Ruth. She started to smile happily, but she was crying at the same time.
‘There’s nothing to worry about,’ Harvey said.
‘Yes there is. There’s Effie. There’s Edward.’
‘What about Edward?’
‘He’s a shit. He might have wanted to know if I was all right. He’s been writing all the time I’ve been here, and phoning every day since we got the telephone put in. Up to now.’
Anne-Marie came in with a splendid salad, a tray of cheeses.
‘Shall I help Madame to pack after lunch?’ she said.
‘How did she know I was leaving?’ Ruth said when the maid had gone out.
‘Somebody told her. Everyone knows everything,’ said Harvey, ‘except me.’
Ruth was in the bedroom, packing, and Harvey was pushing the furniture here and there to make a distance between the place where he intended to sit to receive the reporters, and the part of the room reserved for them. Ruth, Harvey thought as he did so, has been crying a lot over the past few weeks, crying and laughing. I noticed, but I didn’t notice. I wonder if she cried under the interrogation, and laughed? Anyway, it isn’t this quite unlooked-for event that’s caused her to cry and laugh, it started earlier. Did she tell the police she was pregnant? Probably. Maybe that’s why they want to get rid of her. Is she really pregnant? Harvey plumped up a few cushions. Yellow chintzes, lots of yellow; at least, the chintzes had a basis of yellow, so that you saw yellow when you came into the room. New chintzes: all right, order new chintzes. Curtains and cushions and cosiness: all right, order them; have them mail my lawyer the bill. You say you need a château: all right, have the château, my lawyers will fix it. Harvey kicked an armchair. It moved smoothly on its castors into place. Ruth, he thought, is fond of the baby. She adores Clara. Who wouldn’t? But Clara belongs to me, that is, to my wife, Effie. No, Clara belongs to Ruth and depends on Ruth. It’s good-bye, goodbye, to Clara. He looked at his watch. Time to telephone Toronto, it’s about ten in the morning there. The story of playboy Harvey Gotham and his terrorist connections are certainly featured in the Canadian press, on the radio, the television.
Anne-Marie had come in, shiny black short hair, shiny black eyes, clear face. She had a small waist, stout hips. She carried a transistor radio playing rock music softly enough not to justify complaint.
‘Do you know how to get a number on the telephone, long-distance to Toronto?’ Harvey said.
‘Of course,’ said the policewoman.
He thought, as he gave her the number, She doesn’t look like a police official, she looks like a maid. Bedworthy and married. She’s somebody’s wife. Every woman I have to do with is somebody’s wife. Ruth, Job’s wife, and Effie who is still my wife, and who is shooting up the supermarkets. Twelve people hurt and millions of francs’ theft and damage. If the police don’t soon get the gang there will be deaths; housewives, policemen, children murdered. Am I responsible for my wife’s debts? Her wounded, her dead?
Anne-Marie had left the transistor while she went to telephone; the music had been interrupted and the low murmur of an announcement drew Harvey’s attention; he caught the phrases: terrorist organisation … errors of justice …; he turned the volume up. It was a bulletin from FLE issued to a Paris news agency, vindicating its latest activities. The gang was going to liberate Europe from its errors. ‘Errors of society, errors of the system.’ Most of all, liberation from the diabolical institution of the gendarmerie and the brutality of the Brigade Criminelle. It was much the same as every other terrorist announcement Harvey had ever read. ‘The multinationals and the forces of the reactionary imperialist powers …’ It was like an alarm clock that ceases to wake the sleeper who, having heard it morning after morning, simply puts out a hand and switches it off without even opening his eyes.