THE LOOKING GLASS WAR by John LeCarré

Try as he might, he could not sleep. His eyelids were hot and heavy, his body deeply tired, but still he could not sleep. A wind rose, rattling the double windows; now he was too hot, now too cold. Once he dozed, only to be wakened violently from his uneasy rest by the sound of crying, it might have been in the next room, it might have been Anthony, or it might have been—since he did not hear it properly, but only half knew in waking what kind of a sound it had been—the metallic sobbing of a child’s doll.

And once, it was shortly before dawn, he heard a footfall outside his room, a single tread in the corridor, not imagined but real, and he lay in chill terror waiting for the handle of his door to turn or the peremptory knocking of Inspector Peersen’s men. As he strained his ears he swore he detected the faintest rustle of clothing, the subdued intake of human breath, like a tiny sigh; then silence. Though he listened for minutes on end, he heard nothing more.

Putting on the light, he went to the chair, felt in his jacket for his fountain pen. It was by the basin. From his briefcase he took a leather holdall which Sarah had given him.

Settling himself at the flimsy table in front of the window, he began writing a love letter to a girl, it might have been to Carol, he did not know. When at last morning came he destroyed it, tearing it into small pieces and flushing them down the lavatory. As he did so he caught sight of something white on the floor. It was a photograph of Taylor’s child carrying a doll; she was wearing glasses, the kind Anthony wore. It must have been among his papers. He thought of destroying it but somehow he couldn’t. He slipped it into his pocket.

Nine

Homecoming

Leclerc was waiting at Heathrow as Avery knew he would be, standing on tiptoe, peering anxiously between the heads of the waiting crowd. He had squared the customs somehow, he must have got the Ministry to do it, and when he saw Avery he came forward into the hall and guided him in a managing way as if he were used to being spared formalities. This is the life we lead, Avery thought; the same airport with different names; the same hurried, guilty meetings; we live outside the walls of the town, blackfriars from a dark house in Lambeth. He was desperately tired. He wanted Sarah. He wanted to say I’m sorry, make it up with her, get a new job, try again; play with Anthony more. He felt ashamed.

“I’ll just make a telephone call. Sarah wasn’t too well when I left.”

“Do it from the Office,” Leclerc said. “Do you mind? I have a meeting with Haldane in an hour.” Thinking he detected a false note in Leclerc’s voice, Avery looked at him suspiciously, but the other’s eyes were turned away toward the black Humber standing in the privilege car park. Leclerc let the driver open the door for him; a silly muddle took place until Avery sat on his left as protocol apparently demanded. The driver seemed tired of waiting. There was no partition between him and themselves.

“This is a change,” Avery said, indicating the car.

Leclerc nodded in a familiar way as if the acquisition were no longer new. “How are things?” he asked, his mind elsewhere.

“All right. There’s nothing the matter, is there? With Sarah, I mean.”

“Why should there be?”

“Blackfriars Road?” the driver inquired without turning his head, as a sense of respect might have indicated.

“Headquarters, yes please.”

“There was a hell of a mess in Finland,” Avery observed brutally. “Our friend’s papers … Malherbe’s . .. weren’t in order. The Foreign Office had cancelled his passport.”

“Malherbe? Ah yes. You mean Taylor. We know all about that. It’s all right now. Just the usual jealousy. Control is rather upset about it, as a matter of fact. He sent round to apologize. We’ve a lot of people on our side now, John, you’ve no idea. You’re going to be very useful, John; you’re the only one who’s seen it on the ground.” Seen what? Avery wondered. They were together again. The same intensity, the same physical unease, the same absences. As Leclerc turned to him Avery thought for one sickening moment he was going to put a hand on his knee. “You’re tired, John, I can tell. I know how it feels. Never mind—you’re back with us now. Listen, I’ve good news for you. The Ministry’s waked up to us in a big way. We’re to form a special operational unit to mount the next phase.”

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