Chapter Four
FOUR
She had to keep herself from pouncing on the telephone each time it rang the next morning, waiting impatiently for Mrs Billington to take the call in the next office.
Gwen finally picked up the telephone and placed it on her own desk, ignoring each ring with a placidity that Iris found more and more irritating as the morning crawled along.
Finally, the intercom buzzed. Iris flipped the switch before it had even finished.
‘Yes, Saundra?’
‘There is a Mr Danforth on the line,’ said Mrs Billington. ‘He said he had spoken to you about coming in for an appointment.’
‘He did,’ said Iris. ‘When would he like to see us?’
‘Well, he can only break away during his lunch hour, and that’s when the two of you usually take lunch.’
‘Tell him to come in then. We can send out for sandwiches afterwards.’
‘Very good, Miss Sparks.’
‘But—’ began Gwen.
Iris had already disconnected. She looked over at her partner, who appeared perturbed for the first time that morning.
‘What?’ she asked.
‘I had a, um, lunch – appointment,’ said Gwen.
‘Nothing you couldn’t break, surely,’ said Iris. ‘Duty calls, darling, and I really need you for this. In fact, I think you should take the lead in the interview, given my prior history with him.’
‘No, no, you’re right, this is what we … right, I’d better—,’ said Gwen, reaching for the telephone and dialling a number.
‘It’s me,’ she said softly. ‘Sorry, something’s come up at work, so I can’t make it. No, tonight is still on. Yes, I’m sorry. I was looking forward to it, too. What were you—’
She lowered her voice. Iris studiously concentrated on reading through her index cards of possible candidates for Miss Ford, the switchboard operator from the previous week.
‘Oh! Really?’ continued Gwen, blushing deeply. ‘That is a pity. That sounds … quite lovely, in fact. Keep it in the queue. I’ll see you later.’
She hung up.
‘I both don’t want to know and want very much to know,’ said Iris. ‘Either way, sorry.’
‘I’m sorry if I seem … eager,’ said Gwen. ‘I feel as if I’m making up for lost time.’
‘Nothing to apologise for, darling,’ said Iris. ‘I’m happy for the both of you.’
‘Anything in particular you want me to ask Mr Danforth about?’
‘No, follow your instincts. It’s all right to tell him that I mentioned him to you.’
‘Of course,’ said Gwen. ‘Jump in when I’m floundering. Oh, that reminds me.’
‘What?’
‘Mr Lonsdale called after you left yesterday.’
‘Oh? Was it about Miss Lowle?’
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘How bad was it?’
‘He’s given up on finding a match. He’s leaving London and going back home.’
‘That’s unfortunate,’ said Iris. ‘Was it a very upsetting conversation?’
‘It was for me,’ said Gwen. ‘I just had this awful feeling that we’ve hurt an innocent person in the service of this mission, no matter how small or well-meaning our involvement is.’
‘Are you angry at me for suggesting him?’
‘At you, and at myself,’ said Gwen. ‘I felt as if I should have been more forceful in my opposition to the idea. This is how they pull you in, I suppose. They prey upon your good intentions, and the next thing you know, someone else has given up on his life.’
‘He might come back,’ said Iris.
‘We don’t know that,’ said Gwen.
‘No. Nor do we know what’s going to happen to Tony.’
‘What are you hoping for?’
‘His complete and absolute exoneration,’ said Iris.
‘But you still want to go through with this.’
‘Yes, because that’s the only way to get his complete and absolute exoneration, assuming he deserves one. The wheels for this were set in motion before we became part of it.’
‘Very well,’ said Gwen. ‘I feel conflicted about him, and I haven’t even met him yet.’
The clock ticked slowly towards the appointed hour. As the bells tolled noon outside, they heard the door to the building open and shut, then footsteps ascend the stairs. A minute later, they heard Mrs Billington greeting someone and a man’s voice reply.
‘That’s him,’ said Iris.
‘And now he’ll be filling out the application, then Mrs Billington will bring him over,’ said Gwen. ‘Just like every other client.’
Two minutes later, Mrs Billington appeared in the doorway, an application in hand.
‘Are you ready, ladies?’ she asked.
‘We are,’ said Gwen.
‘Mr Danforth, if you’ll come with me,’ said Mrs Billington, coming in.
Shorter than I expected, thought Gwen as they rose to greet him. Nice-looking, though.
‘Hello, Tony,’ said Sparks warmly, coming over to kiss him on the cheek. ‘Welcome to The Right Sort. This is my partner and friend, Mrs Gwendolyn Bainbridge.’
‘How do you do, Mr Danforth?’ said Mrs Bainbridge. ‘Please take a seat.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Bainbridge,’ he said. ‘Good afternoon, Miss Sparks. I trust you’re none the worse for wear after our reunion?’
‘Nothing I couldn’t handle,’ said Sparks with a grin. ‘Yourself?’
‘A bit of a head this morning, I’m afraid,’ he said, smiling ruefully. ‘Those slings may have been short a few ingredients, but alcohol certainly wasn’t one of them.’
‘Miss Sparks has told me all about you, Mr Danforth,’ said Mrs Bainbridge as she sat behind her desk.
‘She was so happy to find you were back in London, and even happier that you were coming to us. However, in the interest of giving you a more objective assessment, I am going to be conducting the interview, if that’s agreeable. ’
‘Of course,’ said Danforth. ‘I’m quite curious to see what this is all about. Perhaps I’ll learn a few things about myself.’
‘Well, it isn’t psychotherapy,’ said Mrs Bainbridge with a smile. ‘Let me peruse your application for a moment. Oh, you left your address blank.’
‘I’ve just signed for the place,’ he said. ‘I haven’t taken up residence yet.’
‘When are you moving in?’
‘This Saturday.’
‘Why don’t you add it, then?’ she said, passing it back to him. ‘We’d be addressing correspondence to you there, and if we come up with a good prospect for you in the next two days, we could always ring you at your office.’
‘Certainly,’ he said, filling it in. ‘It’s Grenville House, Flat 504, Dolphin Square, in Pimlico.
I have to get used to saying that. You’re the first people I’ve told.
Very much bachelor’s digs at the moment, so if you succeed quickly I’ll have to move again to accommodate my new bride.
I’m up on the fifth storey, and not on the side with the nice view of the Thames, so more a convenient location than anything else. ’
‘Easy walk to the Foreign Office, at least,’ commented Mrs Bainbridge as he handed the forms back to her. ‘Now, let’s get to the business at hand. Education, we know about. You’ve been with the Diplomatic Service since 1939?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Went out to Singapore, tried my hand at teaching first, and found I didn’t like children much.
So I went hat in hand to the local consulate to beg for a job.
They put me at a desk approving visas at first, but someone overheard me speaking Malay to the locals and I was moved up to something with more responsibilities.
Then China in late ’41, mostly under George Kitson after he took over in Chungking.
I put in for the position here five months ago and my appointment came through in May. And here I am.’
‘Are you hoping to stay in London?’ she asked.
‘I’m hoping to move up the ladder as far as I can, whether that leads to a higher post overseas or a bigger desk here.’
‘So ultimately what?’
‘Ambassador to Muckity-Muckistan or Grand High Pooh-Bah,’ he said, laughing. ‘I have no idea what that top level might be.’
‘Would you go back to China?’
‘Ah, doubt it,’ he said, grimacing slightly. ‘I’m done with them, they’re done with me.’
‘What happened?’ she asked.
‘That would make for a very long and boring conversation,’ he said. ‘Let’s just say that I made certain recommendations of policy that were dismissed out of hand, and by the time they realise I was right, it will be too late. So I’ve come home to strike a new path.’
‘With a new wife.’
‘Exactly so. Have you got any?’
‘Maybe,’ she said. ‘What sort would you like?’
‘Not sure,’ he said. ‘Never had one before.’
‘Do you have specific requirements?’
‘Two of everything where two is the normal number, although a three-eyed woman would be fascinating, come to think of it.’
‘Let’s be a little more serious about this, shall we?’ said Mrs Bainbridge. ‘We’ll go through the basics. Religion?’
‘Immaterial,’ he said. ‘Although I may have to sham my way through some church services now that I’m back.’
‘Age?’
‘Old enough to know better, but not old enough to know better than me.’
‘Education?’
‘University, of course,’ he said.
‘That’s the first answer you’ve given that wasn’t flippant,’ she said. ‘So her education is important to you.’
‘I will be making my way through a world where conversation at social events may be at a very high level,’ he said. ‘I would like a woman who could hold her own at that level, while looking stunning enough to intrigue every man in the room.’
‘Then her looks matter as well,’ said Mrs Bainbridge.
‘Presentation is all. She should be fluent in French, of course, and any additional language would be a plus.’
‘What about children? You mentioned that you didn’t like them as a teacher. Would you like them if they were yours?’
‘I suppose I would have to,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘I hadn’t really considered that aspect of marriage.’
‘It does happen, you know,’ said Mrs Bainbridge.
‘To be sure,’ he said. ‘I would have to think about that. Children would be terribly inconvenient at the moment.’
‘Speaking from experience, there is never a moment in which they are convenient,’ said Mrs Bainbridge. ‘But this is an area which matters to people, whether it’s yea or nay.’
‘Do I have to vote yea or nay from the outset?’
‘Of course not. Just be aware that this is one of the criteria we use to match people.’
‘Then put me in the undecided column— no, let’s say no to children,’ he said.
‘Let me suggest that we stick with undecided for now,’ said Mrs Bainbridge.
‘It’s just that—’