Page 12 of In the Wet


  “No,” she replied. “I don’t suppose you did.”

  David sat in thought for a minute. “I can see that there might be difficulties when Canada and Australia come forward to do things for the Crown which England can’t afford to do, or doesn’t want to do,” he said at last. “Small difficulties. But he seemed so vindictive …” He glanced at her. “I know I’m only here to fly the aeroplane. But if this sort of thing is going to happen, I’ll have to know the general situation some time or other. I’d rather that you told me.” He met her eyes. “Are things getting bad between the Government and the Crown?”

  She glanced around the crowded room again. “I can’t possibly discuss that, Nigger,” she said. “At any rate, not here.”

  “I don’t want to press you to answer that,” he said. “But I can tell you this, I’m going to find out how matters stand.” He paused. “She’s my Queen as well as yours,” he said. “She’s Queen of Australia as well as Queen of England. My Government have sent me here to work for her, to work for our Queen. I’ll have to know a little bit about her difficulties.”

  She said, “Did anybody brief you when you took this job?”

  He shook his head.

  She said, “They should have told you. Something of this sort was bound to happen sooner or later.”

  “I can find out,” he said. “I can go nosing round and listening to tittle-tattle, and putting two and two together. I’ll get to know what’s going on in no time. But I’d rather that you told me candidly, because you know.”

  “I’m not going to talk about it any more,” she said. “There’s John Llewellyn Davies sitting at the next table but one, and Henry Forbes over there. Let’s talk about something different.”

  The names meant nothing to him, but he smiled, and said, “All right.”

  Over the coffee in the lounge she said, “Are you very keen to see this movie?”

  “Not particularly,” he replied. “Do you want to do something else?”

  “I’ve got a flat up on the top floor of a house in Dover Street,” she said. “We could talk up there.”

  They left the club and walked along Pall Mall and up St. James’s Street. As they went, she asked, “Did you ever read much history?”

  He shook his head. “No. All my schooling was done with a view to getting into the Air Force. It didn’t leave much time for history.”

  She walked on in silence for a few minutes. Then she said, “It’s a pity that something always has to be left out.”

  “Too right,” he replied. “It’s always that one that turns out to be important in the end.”

  They came to Dover Street, and she let herself into a doorway with a key, between a hairdresser’s shop and a chemist. The entrance was well carpeted and decorated because it led to the studio of a photographer on the first and second floor; above that the decoration deteriorated. On the top floor she opened another door and they entered her sitting room; another door led out of that to bedroom, kitchenette, and bathroom.

  She crossed to the fireplace and lit two reading lamps beside the two chintz covered armchairs. “Sit down and make yourself at home,” she said. “I won’t be a minute.” She went into the bedroom and reappeared without her coat. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  “Not if it’s got to be made,” he said.

  She smiled. “I’ve got a lot of my breakfast coffee in the percolator. It’ll heat up all right.”

  He went through to the kitchenette with her, and watched her as she made her small preparations. “You’ve got a nice little place here,” he said.

  “It’s not bad,” she agreed. “It’s very central, and it’s handy for the Palace. I just walk across the Park. I’ve been here for three years.”

  He stood watching her slim grace as she made coffee for him, wondering how old she was. Twenty six, or twenty seven probably, he thought; she wore no rings. She looked up presently, and handed him a steaming cup, and took her own, and went with him into the sitting room. She turned on one element of an electric stove, and they sat down in the armchairs.

  Presently she said, “You’ll have to understand the general situation, David. If you understand that thoroughly, I don’t think there’ll be any need for us to talk about the details, because you’ll understand those too—as much as you’ll need to. What’s the population of Australia?”

  “About twenty seven million, I think,” he replied. “It goes up every year.”

  She nodded. “I think that’s about right. Canada has about thirty two million people, and she’s still increasing fast. Britain has thirty eight million people, and she’s still going down, decreasing at the rate of nearly a million a year.”

  “That’s right,” he said. “As I understand it, about three hundred thousand immigrants a year come from England to Australia and New Zealand, about four hundred thousand go to Canada, and the rest go to Africa and the colonies.”

  “That’s right,” she said. She paused. “I think the first thing is the sort of people that these immigrants are. A very large proportion of them are politically Right Wing in their views. A man who leaves his country to go to Australia is a man who’s taking a gamble on his own ability. He gives up everything he knows, gives up what security he’s got at home in England, and he goes to Canada or to Australia to start again. He knows there’s nothing like so much welfare in your countries. He knows that if he fails in life he may be much worse off in Canada or in Australia than he would be if he stayed here at home. He goes because he likes that sort of country, where he’s got a chance to make a fortune for himself.”

  “I think that’s right,” said David. “There aren’t a great many enthusiastic Socialists among the immigrants from England.”

  She nodded. “That’s why you’ve had such a run of Liberal governments in Australia. Let’s see—you had a Labour Government from 1970 to 1973, and before that there was the Calwell Government, and the Evatt one. I don’t believe you’ve had more than ten years of Labour governments in the last thirty.”

  “I suppose that’s true,” said David thoughtfully. The curl behind her ear was fascinating. “You think that’s because the immigrants are Liberal?”

  “I’m sure of it,” she said. “That, and the fact that your country has remained so prosperous. That’s partly due to your expanding economy. But here in England the effect has been the opposite. We’ve only had about ten years of Conservative governments in the last thirty, because all these emigrants who’ve left for Canada and Australia have been Conservatives at heart. That’s the first big difference between this country and Australia, and that colours everything. You’re a Right Wing country, and we’re Left Wing.”

  He nodded slowly, looking at her profile as she stared at the electric fire. She had very clean features, with a warm brown tint to her skin that probably came from the Solent.

  “I think the historians will say that Socialism has been a good thing for England,” she said thoughtfully. “All countries go through good patches and bad patches, and England has been going through a bad patch for the last forty years. It’s probably not far from the end now. When we can feed our population things will suddenly improve, and the economists say that’s only about five years ahead. Then, maybe, we can try free enterprise again. But in the meantime we’ve got to work together to get through the mess, and Socialism’s probably the best for that.”

  “That may be so,” he said. “But we Australians aren’t quite in the same boat.”

  “You’ve got to try and understand,” she said. “You’ve got to understand why England has developed differently to your country.”

  She turned her head to face him. He met her clear grey eyes, and he was suddenly delighted to be sitting here with her, engaged in this serious conversation. He was far happier than if they had been at the movies.

  “And now you’ve got to try and understand what an illogical people the English are,” she said. “A country so strongly Socialist as England is ought to be a republic.
The Crown rules by divine right, and that’s still the essence of the Crown’s position in this country. That right conflicts entirely with all the principles of a democracy, especially a Socialist democracy. Any other people but the British would have done away with the Crown long ago, but the British aren’t like that. They love their Kings and Queens. The British people won’t have the Crown touched. They won’t even have the Royal Palaces touched. When the Bevan Government tried to put the Inland Revenue into Hampton Court in 1960 it brought down the government and the Conservatives got in. It was the Queen who gave up Balmoral and Sandringham for economy, and the British people didn’t like that much. The British people are completely Royalist at heart, and yet they’re Socialist. It’s quite illogical, but that’s the way they are.”

  He smiled. “It’s a good thing for us all that they’re like that,” he said. “If it wasn’t for the Queen, we wouldn’t have much in common with England.”

  She nodded. “The old King and the present Queen have been terribly wise,” she said. “They’ve held the Commonwealth together, when everything was set for a break up. They’ve done a magnificent job, and in England, anyway, they’ve had a rotten time.” She hesitated. “Kings and Queens have an easier time in Right Wing countries,” she said. “That’s why she gets on so well with your Mr. Hogan, and with Mr. Delamain in Canada.”

  He laughed, “And why things aren’t so hot with Mr. Iorwerth Jones.”

  “I didn’t say that,” she retorted.

  “No,” he replied. “But I can see it, all the same.” He paused. “English scientists, and English engineers, and the Queen,” he said. “Those are the things that we like and admire in England. We don’t think a fat lot of your governments.”

  “No …” She turned, and stared at the fire again. “And now this matter of the voting has come up. You’ve experimented in your States, and found what seems to be a better system of democracy.”

  He opened his eyes. “Is that making trouble over here?”

  “I think it is,” she said. “Yes, I think it is.” She paused and then she said, “New Zealanders, and you Australians—you did this once before, when it was Votes for Women. You tried it out in one State and saw it was a success, and then adopted it for the whole country. You put us in a very difficult position over that. And now it’s happening again …”

  He asked, “Is England sorry that she got forced into giving women the vote?”

  She smiled. “Of course not. The British people would be very happy with your multiple vote, once they got used to it. But it would mean great changes.”

  “I bet it would,” he said cynically. “You wouldn’t get a nit-wit like Lord Coles in charge of the Royal Air Force. You might not even have Iorwerth Jones.”

  “Exactly,” she replied. “That’s the difficulty that you Australians and Canadians have made for us, as you did over Votes for Women. You can’t expect Iorwerth Jones to like you very much.”

  He raised his head. “Our way of doing it is right,” he said. “People like that could hardly get elected to our House of Representatives. They’d never get made ministers.”

  She smiled at him, and he was glad of it because he was afraid that he might have offended her. “You can’t expect Iorwerth Jones to look at it like that. The people have put him where he is upon the one man one vote principle. He believes in that principle, because he believes that he’s the best man in the country to be Prime Minister. He probably believes this multiple vote talk to be a Tory trick to get him out of office. He probably believes that Australian and Canadian politicians are backing the Tories, to force this voting upon England by pressure from the Commonwealth.” She smiled. “On top of that, your Governments must choose this time to go and give aeroplanes and crews to the Queen, to make it easy for her to go and spend more time in the Dominions.”

  “She’s our Queen as well as yours,” he said. “If she were to spend her time in each of the countries of the Commonwealth proportionate to its white population, she’d only spend about three months of each year in England. If you include the coloured peoples, you’d be lucky if you saw her for a fortnight.” He paused. “As it is, she hasn’t been at Tharwa for two years. Australians feel they aren’t getting a square deal.”

  “She knows that, Nigger,” Rosemary said quietly. “She’s very well aware of what Australians feel. But she’s got difficulties.”

  “I bet she has,” he said thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t like her job.”

  “No,” she said. “I sometimes think she’s got the beastliest job that any Englishwoman could have.”

  She got up from her chair. “More coffee?”

  He got up with her. “I should be going soon,” he said, thinking that perhaps her job required her to be careful of her reputation, and that he must help her. “I’ve asked most of the questions now.”

  “It’s early yet,” she said. “Stay and have another cup of coffee. Or there’s a bottle of beer, if you’d rather.”

  He shook his head. “I never take it.”

  “You don’t drink at all, do you?”

  He shook his head. “I couldn’t afford to, when I was a boy. I wanted all my money for books and for club flying. Then when I got to be a pilot I was glad I’d never started. I think you’re just that little bit better if you don’t.”

  “Well, have another cup of coffee. It’s quite early.”

  She went through and switched on the percolator, rinsed out the cups, and made fresh coffee. She carried the cups back into the sitting room, careful to avoid spilling.

  He took his cup from her. “Thanks.” And standing by the stove, he asked, “Where does the Queen stand in this matter of the multiple vote? What does she think about it all?”

  The girl laughed. “I don’t know, Nigger,” she said. “She doesn’t confide in me. And if she did, I wouldn’t spill the beans to you or anybody else.”

  He laughed with her. “You don’t have any opinions of your own?”

  “Not one,” she said firmly. “All the opinions that I’ve got are based on documents with red things stamped across the top, like CONFIDENTIAL, and MOST SECRET, and FOR HER MAJESTY’S HAND ALONE.”

  “All right,” he said. “No more questions. I think you’ve told me all I want to know.”

  “I haven’t told you anything at all,” she said. “We’ve just been talking about England and why she’s different to Australia.”

  He laughed. “Have it your own way.”

  They sat down again with their cups of coffee. “You know an awful lot about the woman’s vote,” he said. “Where did you get all that from—all about Australia and New Zealand?”

  “One of the bits of information that one picks up and remembers,” she said. “I’m a woman, so I take more interest in that than you would.” They smiled. “I did History at Oxford.”

  “You went to Oxford, did you?”

  She nodded. “I was at Somerville.”

  “Did you get this job from there?” he asked. He wanted to find out how old she was.

  “Not quite,” she said. “I did a course of shorthand typing and then got a job in the Foreign Office. I was there two years, and then I heard there was a vacancy in the Secretaries’ office, and I went to see Miss Porson, and I got it.”

  His guess had not been very far from the mark; she would be about twenty seven. He asked, “Is your home in London?”

  She shook her head. “My father and mother live outside Oxford, at a place called Boar’s Hill. He’s a don at New College.”

  “Do you sail every week end in the summer?” he asked.

  “Whenever I can get away,” she said. “I spend one week end in every four on duty at the Palace. I get Monday off instead. I generally go home those week ends, and come up on Tuesday morning. I’m usually at Itchenor for the others, in the summer, or else out with Uncle Ted.”

  “It’s dinghy sailing at Itchenor, isn’t it?”

  She nodded. “I’ve got an International fourteen footer down
there, that I race with another girl, Sue Collins.” She hesitated. “We were very lucky in the crash,” she said. “We didn’t lose quite all our money. We lost most of it, but not quite all.”

  “The 1970 crash?”

  She nodded. “Most people I know lost everything.”

  “Was it as bad as that?” he asked. “I was a boy, of course—I’ve only heard about it vaguely.”

  “It was bad,” she said. “Most people had a little money saved in one form or another up till then—insurance policies or something, but after that I don’t think anyone had anything. I don’t remember it personally—I was too young. But it was very bad.”

  “What caused it?” he enquired.

  “I think it was the emigration,” she said. “When people began emigrating it was all right at first. But then when four or five million people had left England there began to be an empty house in every street, and when that happened houses weren’t worth anything, any more. Before that, people used to buy their houses—that’s the way they saved money. Well, then house property went down to nothing, and that money was all lost.” She paused. “Office buildings, too—they weren’t worth anything, with empty offices everywhere. It ended in a general financial crash, and everyone lost all their savings.”

  He nodded slowly. “I don’t think we’ve had anything like that in Australia,” he said.

  “I don’t think you have. You’ve been very lucky.” She smiled at him. “The funny thing is, I don’t think it hurt anyone very much. Everyone was in the same boat, and the houses were still there, and most people’s jobs were still there, too. It meant that the government had to take over all the buildings in the country, of course, or they’d have fallen down for lack of maintenance. That’s why practically every house and office building in the country is government owned today.”

  “Is that the reason?” he enquired. “I wondered about that. I thought it was just Socialism.”

  She shook her head. “Actually, I think it was the second Eden Government that did it.”