Turner dialled de Lisle’s number but there was no reply. ‘Tell him I rang to say goodbye,’ he said to Cork, and changed his mind. ‘Don’t worry.’
He called Travel Section and enquired about his ticket. It was all in order, they assured him; Mr Bradfield had sent down personally and the ticket was waiting for him at the desk. They seemed impressed. Cork picked up his coat.
‘And you’d better cable Lumley and give him my time of arrival.’
‘I’m afraid H. of C.’s done that already,’ Cork said, with something quite near to a blush.
‘Well. Thanks.’ He was at the door, looking back into the room as if he would never see it again. ‘I hope it goes all right with the baby. I hope your dreams come true. I hope everyone’s dream comes true. I hope they all get what they’re looking for.’
‘Look: think of it this way,’ Cork said sympathetically. ‘There’s things you just don’t give up, isn’t there?’
‘That’s right.’
‘I mean you can’t pack everything up neat and tidy. Not in life, you can’t. That’s for girls, that is. That’s just romantic. You get like Leo otherwise: you can’t leave a thing alone. Now what are you going to do with yourself this afternoon? There’s a nice matinee at the American cinema… No. Wouldn’t be right for you: lot of screaming kids.’
‘What do you mean, he can’t leave a thing alone?’
Cork was drifting round the room, checking the machines, the desks and the secret waste.
‘Vindictive. Vindictive wasn’t in it. He had a feud with Fred Anger once; Fred was Admin. They say it ran five years till Fred was posted.’
‘What about?’
‘Nothing.’ He had picked a scrap of paper from the floor and was reading it. ‘Absolutely sweet Fanny Adams. Fred cut down a lime tree in Leo’s garden, said it was endangering the fence. Which it was. Fred told me: “Bill,” he said, “that tree would have fallen down in the autumn.” ‘
‘He had a thing about land,’ Turner said. ‘He wanted his own patch. He didn’t like being in limbo.’
‘Know what Leo did? He made a wreath out of leaves. Brought it into the Embassy and nailed it on to Fred’s office door. With bloody great two-inch nails. Crucified it near enough. The German staff thought Fred had snuffed it. Leo didn’t laugh though. He wasn’t joking; he really meant it. He was violent, see. Now dips don’t notice that. All oil and how-d’-you-do, he was to them. And helpful, I’m not saying he wasn’t helpful. I’m just saying that when Leo had a grudge, I wouldn’t fancy being the other end of it. That’s all I’m saying.’
‘He went for your wife, did he?’
‘I put a stop to that,’ said Cork. ‘Just as well. Seeing what happened elsewhere. The Welfare Dance, that was. A couple of years back. He started coming it. Nothing nasty, mind. Wanted to give her a hair-dryer and that. Meet me up on the hill, that lark. I said to him, “You find your own hair to dry,” I said. “She’s mine.” You can’t blame him though, can you? Know what they say about refugees: they lose everything except their accents. Dead right, you know. Trouble with Leo was, he wanted it all back. So I suppose that’s it: take the pick of the files and run for it. Flog them to the highest bidder. It’s no more than what we owe him, I don’t suppose.’ Satisfied with his security check, Cork stacked together his brochures and came towards the door where Turner stood. ‘You’re from the North, aren’t you?’ he asked. ‘I can tell by your voice.’
‘How well did you know him?’
‘Leo? Oh, like all of us really. I’d buy this and that, give him a saucer of milk now and then; put an order in for the Dutchman.’
‘Dutchman?’
‘Firm of diplomatic exporters. From Amsterdam. Cheaper if you can be bothered; you know. Do you anything: butter, meat, radios, cars, the lot.’
‘Hair-dryers?’
‘Anything. There’s a rep. calls every Monday. Fill in your form one week, chuck it in to Leo and you get the order the next. I expect there was a bit in it for him; you know. Mind you, you could never catch him out. I mean you could check up till you were blue in the face: you’d never find out where he took his divi. Though I think it was those bloody cigars. They were really shocking, you know. I don’t think he enjoyed them; he just smoked them because they were free. And because we pulled his leg about them.’ He laughed simply: ‘He conned the lot of us, that’s the truth of it. You too, I suppose. Well, I’ll be slipping on then. So long.’