“Now that I think of it, Agnes,” Canidy said, “and now that we’ve exhausted the subject, Lawrence of Arabia can wash behind his ears without supervision. Put a couple of bottles in bags, and we’ll go downstairs to the bar. There was a moment’s hesitation before she smiled.
The bar off the Dorchester lobby was full, already on the edge of being crowded. As they stood just inside the doorway looking for a place to sit, there was the snap of fingers and a man’s voice calling, “Over here!” Canidy saw two Englishmen at one of the few six-seat tables. One was a private in a mussed and ill-fitting uniform, and the other a very naty, mustachioed, vaguely familiar, major. British majors, especially ones like this one, who looked as if he had just marched in from Sandhurst, simply did not drink with private soldiers.
Except, of course, he thought, if they were in SOE, where service customs were ignored whenever they got in the way. Clearly, these two were SOE, and he’d probably met the major while he was “liaising’with SOE at
“Station X” Well, they have a table. Getting a table was worth whatever liquor they would drink. And rm already on shaky ground for not being as friendly as expected to my British counterparts.
Canidy put a smile on, took Agnes’s arm, and propelled her across the room.
“Good to see you again,” he said. “Have you room for us?”
“By all means,” the major said.
“Do you remember Sergeant Draper?” Canidy asked.
“No, I’m afraid I don’t,” the major said. He offered his hand to Agnes. “My name is Niven,” he said. “And this is Private Ustinov.” Fine caught up with them.
“Stan, I’d like you to meet Major Niven,” Canidy said.
Fine was smiling strangely.
“I have the privilege of the major’s acquaintance,” he said. “But where the hell did you meet each other?”
“At… that place in the country,” Canidy said.
“What place in the country would that be?” Major Niven said.
“That place in the country, of course,” Private Ustinov said.
“Oh, of course,” the major said. He smiled benignly at Canidy.
“That place in the country.”
“Why do I feel I’m making an ass of myself?” Canidy asked.
“David and I are friends from Los Angeles,” Fine said. “Peter, too.”
“By Los Angeles, you mean Hollywood’?” Canidy asked. He turned to the major. “You’re in the movie business?”
“Not anymore,” the major said. “But yes, I was.”
“He was an elocution coach,” Private Ustinov said. “I was a ballet instructor.” “Oh,” Canidy said.
“I taught them, you see, to walk, and then David took over and taught them how to talk,” Private Ustinov said.
“Well, I’ve obviously made a mistake,” Canidy said. “You looked like a British off ficer I met. San&urst type.”
“Well, I’m guilty of that,” the major said. “I went to Sandhurst.”
“Oh,” Canidy said, “no offense intended, of course.”
“And certainly none taken,” the major said.
“You have seen Major Niven before, Dick,” Fine said.
“I knew I had,” Canidy said.
“On the great silver screen,” Fine said. “This is the actor.”
“Actors, if you please,” Private Ustinov said. “Currently not on the boards, of course, but actors, plural, nonetheless.” Only at that moment did Canidy recognize David Niven.
“I know what I’m going to do,” he said. “I’m going to go back to the lobby, and then come in again, and walk over and ask for an autograph.
“I would much prefer a taste, if you don’t mind,” Niven said, “of what I suspect Lady Agnes has in the bags.”
“There is no booze,” Private Ustinov said. “David and I came here in the hope that Stanley, who has some mysterious but steady source of intoxicants, would show up sooner rather than later.”
“Booze, Sergeant!” Canidy said.
“Sir!” she said, and produced a bottle of Scotch.
“Have we met, Major?” Agnes asked when she had poured everyone a “Your father is the Earl of Hayme, isn’t he?” Niven asked. Agnes nodded.
“I thought so. I’ve been privileged to shoot over your estate in Scotland several times. The last time I saw you, you were a liale girl. A spectacular little girl, obviously, you stuck in my mind.”