The Russian Interpreter

27

‘I’ve made up my mind about Raya,’ said Proctor-Gould suddenly, as they sat in a taxi on the way back to the National. ‘I’m going to give her her marching orders. I don’t know whether that relieves your mind at all?’

‘It certainly helps,’ said Manning. ‘You’re striking her off your list of clients, too?’

‘I’m afraid so. As soon as we get back to the hotel I’m going to ask her to leave. Or perhaps I should say, ask you to ask her to leave.’

‘You could put it like that.’

‘Don’t worry, Paul, I shan’t start a scene. Or rather, we shan’t.’

‘Shan’t we?’

‘No, I think we should be quite firm, but at the same time perfectly polite and level-headed. It won’t be particularly agreeable while it lasts, I admit. But it’s just one of those unpleasant necessities that crop up from time to time. We shall just have to grin and bear it, Paul.’

‘I see.’

‘By dinner-time it will all be over and done with. We shall be laughing about it.’

But by the time the taxi pulled up outside the hotel Proctor-Gould’s resolution had ebbed. He began to climb out, then got back in and sat down again beside Manning.

‘Do you suppose Raya’s up there at the moment?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know, Gordon.’

‘I was just wondering whether she’d be waiting for us, or whether we’d have to sit down and wait for her. I’m just trying to get the situation clear in my own mind, you see.’

‘She’ll be in the bath, I expect.’

‘In the bath? I hadn’t thought of that, Paul.’

He pulled at his ear, and gazed gloomily at the visible mid-parts of the commissionaire who was standing holding the car door open, as if trying to divine the contents of the man’s stomach.

‘I suppose she will,’ he said reluctantly. ‘That possibility hadn’t occurred to me, I must admit.’

‘I was joking, Gordon….’

‘No, no. It’s getting on for six. That’s where she’ll be, all right. Look, Paul, I wonder if the best arrangement wouldn’t be this. I’ll wait down here in the taxi while you go up and tell her what we’ve decided.’

‘For God’s sake, Gordon! I can’t just stand there and shout through the bathroom door that you’re chucking her out.’

‘I appreciate the difficulty, Paul. But let’s face facts. It wouldn’t make things any easier for you if I was standing out there with you, would it?’

‘But Gordon, you could go into the bathroom.’

‘I could go in – but I couldn’t say anything. You’d still have to stand outside shouting a translation.’

He pulled at his ear in silence again.

‘Anyway,’ he said, ‘I don’t know that I could go in, could I? I mean, I’m not sure that it’s quite the done thing to look at a girl in the bath while you’re telling her that it’s all over between you.’

‘Aren’t you being a shade hypersensitive, Gordon?’

‘I don’t think so. In fact, I think one might make out a better case for doing it the other way round – my staying outside while you go in. After all, you were a great pal of hers at one stage.’

‘Not as great as all that. We’ve been into this before, Gordon.’

‘All the same, she’s a perfectly unconventional sort of girl. I’m sure she wouldn’t stand on ceremony.’

They sat in silence for a moment or two, while the commissionaire bent down and examined them through the door, trying to remember whether he was seeing them in or seeing them out.

‘No?’ said Proctor-Gould. ‘Well, I wonder, Paul, if it wouldn’t be better to let things run on for the time being, and try to find a more suitable moment to break it to her in the next few days?’

‘I don’t think that would be a good idea at all, Gordon.’

‘All right, then. Supposing I just quietly took a room in another hotel, and waited for it all to blow over?’

‘No, Gordon.’

‘Well, let’s leave it like this. We’ll creep in quietly, and if she is in the bath, we’ll just creep quietly out again and wait till she emerges.’