The Remains of the Day Part 10

"I do not mean to be rude, Miss Kenton, but I really must return upstairs without further delay. The fact is, events of a global significance are taking place in this house at this very moment."

"When are they not, Mr Stevens? Very well, if you must be rushing off, I shall just tell you that I accepted my acquaintance's proposal."

"I beg your pardon, Miss Kenton?"

"His proposal of marriage."

"Ah, is that so, Miss Kenton? Then may I offer you my congratulations."

"Thank you, Mr Stevens. Of course, I will be happy to serve out my notice. However, should it be that you are able to release me earlier, we would be very grateful. My acquaintance begins his new job in the West Country in two weeks'

time."

"I will do my best to secure a replacement at the earliest opportunity, Miss Kenton. Now if you will excuse me, I must return upstairs."

I started to walk away again, but then when I had all but reached the doors out to the corridor, I heard Miss Kenton say: "Mr Stevens," and thus turned once more. She had not moved, and consequently she was obliged to raise her voice slightly in addressing me, so that it resonated rather oddly in the cavernous s.p.a.ces of the dark and empty kitchen.

"Am I to take it," she said, "that after the many years of service I have given in this house, you have no more words to greet the news of my possible departure than those you have just uttered?"

"Miss Kenton, you have my warmest congratulations. But I repeat, there are matters of global significance taking place upstairs and I must return to my post."

"Did you know, Mr Stevens, that you have been a very important figure for my acquaintance and I?"

"Really, Miss Kenton?"

"Yes, Mr Stevens. We often pa.s.s the time amusing ourselves with anecdotes about you. For instance, my acquaintance is always wanting me to show him the way you pinch your nostrils together when you put pepper on your food. That always gets him laughing."

"Indeed."

"He's also rather fond of your staff 'pep-talks'.

l must say, I've become quite expert in recreating them. I only have to do a few lines to have the pair of us in st.i.tches."

"Indeed, Miss Kenton. Now you will please excuse me."

I ascended to the hall and took up my position again. However, before five minutes had pa.s.sed, Mr Cardinal appeared in the doorway of the library and beckoned me over.

"Hate to bother you, Stevens," he said. "But I couldn't trouble you to fetch a little more brandy, could I? The bottle you brought in earlier appears to be finished."

"You are very welcome to whatever refreshments you care for, sir. However, in view of the fact that you have your column to complete, I wonder if it is entirely wise to partake further."

"My column will be fine, Stevens. Do get me a little more brandy, there's a good fellow."

"Very well, sir."

When I returned to the library a moment later, Mr Cardinal was wandering around the shelves, scrutinizing spines. I could see papers scattered untidily over one of the writing desks nearby. As I approached, Mr Cardinal made an appreciative sound and slumped down into a leather armchair. I went over to him, poured a little brandy and handed it to him.

"You know, Stevens," he said, "we've been friends for some time now, haven't we?"

"Indeed, sir."

"I always look forward to a little chat with you whenever I come here."

"Yes, sir."

"Won't you care to join me in a little drink?" "That's very kind of you, sir. But no, thank you, I won't."

"l say, Stevens, are you all right there?" "Perfectly all right, thank you, sir," I said with a small laugh.

"Not feeling unwell, are you?"

"A little tired, perhaps, but I'm perfectly fine, thank you, sir."

"Well, then, you should sit down. Anyway, as I was saying. We've been friends for some time. So I really ought to be truthful with you. As you no doubt guessed, I didn't happen by tonight just by accident. I had a tip-off, you see. About what's going on. Over there across the hall at this very moment."

"Yes, sir."

"l do wish you'd sit down, Stevens. I want us to talk as friends, and you're standing there holding that blasted tray looking like you're about to wander off any second."

"I'm sorry, sir."

I put down my tray and seated myself - in an appropriate posture - on the armchair Mr Cardinal was indicating .

. "That's better," Mr Cardinal said. "Now, Stevens, I don't suppose the Prime Minister is presently in the drawing room, is he?"

' 'The Prime Minister, sir?"

"Oh, it's all right, you don't have to tell me.

I understand you're in a tricky position." Mr Cardinal heaved a sigh, and looked wearily towards his papers scattered over the desk. Then he said: "l hardly need to tell you, do I, Stevens, what I feel towards his lordship. I mean to say, he's been like a second father to me. I hardly need to tell you, Stevens."

"No, sir."

"l care deeply for him."

"Yes, sir."

"And I know you do too. Care deeply for him. Don't you, Stevens?"

"I do indeed, sir."

"Good. So we both know where we stand. But let's face facts. His lordship is in deep waters. I've watched him swimming further and further out and let me tell you, I'm getting very anxious. He's out of his depth, you see, Stevens."

"Is that so, sir?"

"Stevens, do you know what is happening at this very moment as we sit here talking? What's happening just several yards from us? Over in that room - and I don't need you to confirm it - there is gathered at this moment the British Prime Minister, the Foreign Secretary and the German Amba.s.sador. His lordship has worked wonders to bring this meeting about, and he believes - faithfully believes - he's doing something good and honourable. Do you know why his lordship has brought these gentlemen here tonight? Do you know, Stevens, what is going on here?"

"I'm afraid not,"

"You're afraid not. Tell me, Stevens, don't you care at all? Aren't you curious?

Good G.o.d, man, something very crucial is going on in this house. Aren't you at all curious?"

"It is not my place to be curious about such matters, sir."

"But you care about his lordship. You care deeply, you just told me that. If you care about his lordship, shouldn't you be concerned? At least a little curious? The British Prime Minister and the German Amba.s.sador are brought together by your employer for secret talks in the night, and you're not even curious?"

"I would not say I am not curious, sir. However, it is not my position to display curiosity about such matters."

"It's not your position? Ah, I suppose you believe that to be loyalty. Do you? Do you think that's being loyal? To his lordship? Or to the Crown, come to that?"

"I'm sorry, sir, I fail to see what it is you are proposing." Mr Cardinal sighed again and shook his head.

"I'm not proposing anything, Stevens. Quite frankly, I don't know what's to be done. But you might at least be curious."

He was silent for a moment, during which time he seemed to be gazing emptily at the area of carpet around my feet.

"Sure you won't join me in a drink, Stevens?" he said eventually.

"No, thank you, sir."

"'I'll tell you this, Stevens. His lordship is being made a fool of. I've done a lot of investigating, I know the situation in Germany now as well as anyone in this country, and I tell you, his lordship is being made a fool of." I gave no reply, and Mr Cardinal went on gazing emptily at the floor. After a while, he continued: "His lordship is a dear, dear man. But the fact is, he is out of his depth. He is being manoeuvred. The n.a.z.is are manoeuvring him like a p.a.w.n. Have you noticed this, Stevens? Have you noticed this is what has been happening for the last three or four years at least?"

"I'm sorry, sir, I have failed to notice any such development."

"Haven't you even had a suspicion? The smallest suspicion that Herr Hitler, through our dear friend Herr Ribbentrop, has been manoeuvring his lordship like a p.a.w.n, just as easily as he manoeuvres any of his other p.a.w.ns back in Berlin?"

"I'm sorry, sir, I'm afraid I have not noticed any such development."

"But I suppose you wouldn't, Stevens, because you're not curious. You just let all this go on before you and you never think to look at it for what it is." Mr Cardinal adjusted his position in the armchair so that he was a little more upright, and for a moment he seemed to be contemplating his unfinished work on the desk near by. Then he said: "His lordship is a gentleman. That's what's at the root of it. He's a gentleman, and he fought a war with the Germans, and it's his instinct to offer generosity and friendship to a defeated foe. It's his instinct. Because he's a gentleman, a true old English gentleman. And you must have seen it, Stevens. How could you not have seen it? The way they've used it, manipulated it, turned something fine and n.o.ble into something else - something they can use for their own foul ends? You must have seen it, Stevens."

Mr Cardinal was once again staring at the floor. He remained silent for a few moments, then he said: "l remember coming here years ago, and there was this American chap here. We were having a big conference, my father was involved in organizing it. I remember this American chap, even drunker than I am now, he got up at the dinner table in front of the whole company. And he pointed at his lordship and called him an amateur. Called him a bungling amateur and said he was out of his depth. Well, I have to say, Stevens, that American chap was quite right. It's a fact of life. Today's world is too foul a place for fine and n.o.ble instincts. You've seen it yourself, haven't you, Stevens? The way they've manipulated something fine and n.o.ble. You've seen it yourself, haven't you?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but I can't say I have."

"You can't say you have. Well, I don't know about you, but I'm going to do something about it. If Father were alive, he would do something to stop it." Mr Cardinal fell silent again and for a moment perhaps it was to do with his having evoked memories of his late father - he looked extremely melancholy. "Are you content, Stevens," he said finally, "to watch his lordship go over the precipice just like that?"

"I'm sorry, sir, I don't fully understand what it is you're referring to."

"You don't understand, Stevens. Well, we're friends and so I'll put it to you frankly. Over the last few years, his lordship has probably been the single most useful p.a.w.n Herr Hitler has had in this country for his propaganda tricks. All the better because he's sincere and honourable and doesn't recognize the true nature of what he's doing. During the last three years alone, his lordship has been crucially instrumental in establishing links between Berlin and over sixty of the most influential citizens of this country. It's worked beautifully for them. Herr Ribbentrop's been able virtually to bypa.s.s our foreign office altogether. And as if their wretched Rally and their wretched Olympic Games weren't enough, do you know what they've got his lordship working on now? Do you have any idea what is being discussed now?"

"I'm afraid not, sir."

"His lordship has been trying to persuade the Prime Minister himself to accept an invitation to visit Herr Hitler. He really believes there's a terrible misunderstanding on the Prime Minister's part concerning the pres en t German regime."

"I cannot see what there is to object to in that, sir. His lordship has always striven to aid better understanding between nations."

"And that's not all, Stevens. At this very moment, unless I am very much mistaken, at this very moment, his lordship is discussing the idea of His Majesty himself visiting Herr Hitler. It's hardly a secret our new king has always been an enthusiast for the n.a.z.is. Well, apparently he's now keen to accept Herr Hitler's invitation. At this very moment, Stevens, his lordship is doing what he can to remove Foreign Office objections to this appalling idea."

"I'm sorry, sir, but I cannot see that his lordship is doing anything other than that which is highest and n.o.blest. He is doing what he can, after all, to ensure that peace will continue to prevail in Europe."

"Tell me, Stevens, aren't you struck by even the remote possibility that I am correct? Are you not, at least, curious curious about what I am saying?" about what I am saying?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but I have to say that I have every trust in his lordship's good judgement."

"No one with good judgement could persist in believing anything Herr Hitler says after the Rhineland, Stevens. His lordship is out of his depth. Oh dear, now I've really offended you."

"Not at all, sir," I said, for I had risen on hearing the bell from the drawing room. "I appear to be required by the gentlemen. Please excuse me."

In the drawing room, the air was thick with tobacco smoke. Indeed, the distinguished gentlemen continued to smoke their cigars, solemn expressions on their faces, not uttering a word, while his lordship instructed me to bring up a certain exceptionally fine bottle of port from the cellar.

At such a time of night, one's footsteps descending the back staircase are bound to be conspicuous and: no doubt they were responsible for arousing Miss Kenton. For as I was making my way along the darkness of the corridor, the door to her parlour opened and she appeared at the threshold, illuminated by the light from within.

"I am surprised to find you still down here, Miss Kenton," I said as I approached.

"Mr Stevens, I was very foolish earlier on." "Excuse me, Miss Kenton, but I have not time to talk just now."

"Mr Stevens, you mustn't take anything I said earlier to heart. I was simply being foolish."

"I have not taken anything you have said to heart, Miss Kenton. In fact, I cannot recall what it is you might be referring to. Events of great importance are unfolding upstairs and I can hardly stop to exchange pleasantries with you. I would suggest you retire for the night."

With that I hurried on, and it was not until I had all but reached the kitchen doors that the darkness falling again in the corridor told me Miss Kenton had closed her parlour door.

It did not take me long to locate the bottle in question down in the cellar and to make the necessary preparations for its serving. It was, then, only a few minutes after my short encounter with Miss Kenton that I found myself walking down the corridor again on my return journey, this time bearing a tray. As I approached Miss Kenton's door, I saw from the light seeping around its edges that she was still within. And that was the moment, I am now sure, that has remained so persistently lodged in my memory - that moment as I paused in the dimness of the corridor, the tray in my hands, an ever-growing conviction mounting within me that just a few yards away, on the other side of that door, Miss Kenton was at that moment crying. As I recall, there was no real evidence to account for this conviction - I had certainly not heard any sounds of crying - and yet I remember being quite certain that were I to knock and enter, I would discover her in tears. I do not know how long I remained standing there; at the time it seemed a significant period, but in reality, I suspect, it was only a matter of a few seconds. For, of course, I was required to hurry upstairs to serve some of the most distinguished gentlemen of the land and I cannot imagine I would have delayed unduly.

When I returned to the drawing room, I saw that the gentlemen were still in a rather serious mood. Beyond this, however, I had little chance to gain any impression of the atmosphere, for no sooner had I entered than his lordship was taking the tray from me, saying: "Thank you, Stevens, I'll see to it. That'll be all." Crossing the hall again, I took up my usual position beneath the arch, and for the next hour or so, until, that is, the gentlemen finally departed, no event occurred which obliged me to move from my spot. Nevertheless, that hour I spent standing there has stayed very vividly in my mind throughout the years. At first, my mood was-I do not mind admitting it - somewhat downcast. But then as I continued to stand there, a curious thing began to take place; that is to say, a deep feeling of triumph started to well up within me. I cannot remember to what extent I a.n.a.lysed this feeling at the time, but today, looking back on it, it does not seem so difficult to account for. I had, after all, just come through an extremely trying evening, throughout which I had managed to preserve a 'dignity in keeping with my position' - and had done so, moreover, in a manner even my father might have been proud of. And there across the hall, behind the very doors upon which my gaze was then resting, within the very room where I had just executed my duties, the most powerful gentlemen of Europe were conferring over the fate of our continent. Who would doubt at that moment that I had indeed come as close to the great hub of things as any butler could wish? I would suppose, then, that as I stood there pondering the events of the evening - those that had unfolded and those still in the process of doing so - they appeared to me a sort of summary of all that I had come to achieve thus far in my life. I can see few other explanations for that sense of triumph I came to be uplifted by that night.

Day Six - Evening

Weymouth

THIS seaside town is a place I have thought of coming to for many years. I have heard various people talk of having spent a pleasant holiday here, and Mrs Symons too, in The Wonder of England, The Wonder of England, calls it a 'town that can keep the visitor fully entertained for many days on end'. In fact, she makes special mention of this pier, upon which I have been promenading for the past half-hour, recommending particularly that it be visited in the evening when it becomes lit up with bulbs of various colours. A moment ago, I learnt from an official that the lights would be switched on 'fairly soon', and so I have decided to sit down here on this bench and await the event. I have a good view from here of the sun setting over the sea, and though there is still plenty of daylight left - it has been a splendid day - I can see, here and there, lights starting to come on all along the sh.o.r.e. Meanwhile, the pier remains busy with people; behind me, the drumming of numerous footsteps upon these boards continues without interruption. calls it a 'town that can keep the visitor fully entertained for many days on end'. In fact, she makes special mention of this pier, upon which I have been promenading for the past half-hour, recommending particularly that it be visited in the evening when it becomes lit up with bulbs of various colours. A moment ago, I learnt from an official that the lights would be switched on 'fairly soon', and so I have decided to sit down here on this bench and await the event. I have a good view from here of the sun setting over the sea, and though there is still plenty of daylight left - it has been a splendid day - I can see, here and there, lights starting to come on all along the sh.o.r.e. Meanwhile, the pier remains busy with people; behind me, the drumming of numerous footsteps upon these boards continues without interruption.

I arrived in this town yesterday afternoon, and have decided to remain a second night here so as to allow myself this whole day to spend in a leisurely manner. And I must say, it has been something of a relief not to be motoring; for enjoyable though the activity can be, one can also get a little weary of it after a while. In any case, I can well afford the time to remain this further day here; an early start tomorrow will ensure that I am back at Darlington Hall by tea-time. It is now fully two days since my meeting with Miss Kenton in the tea lounge of the Rose Garden Hotel in Little Compton. For indeed, that was where we met Miss Kenton surprising me by coming to the hotel. I had been whiling away some time after finishing my lunch - I was, I believe, simply staring at the rain from the window by my table - when a member of the hotel staff had come to inform me that a lady was wishing to see me at the reception. I rose and went out into the lobby, where I could see no one I recognized. But then the receptionist had said from behind her counter: "The lady's in the tea lounge, sir." Going in through the door indicated, I discovered a room filled with ill-matching armchairs and occasional tables. There was no one else present other than Miss Kenton, who rose as I entered, smiled and held out her hand to me.

"Ah, Mr Stevens. How nice to see you again."

"Mrs Benn, how lovely."

The light in the room was extremely gloomy on account of the rain, and so we moved two armchairs up close to the bay window. And that was how Miss Kenton and I talked for the next two hours or so, there in the ,pool of grey light while the rain continued to fall steadily on the square outside. She had, naturally, aged somewhat, but to my eyes at least, she seemed to have done so very gracefully. Her figure remained slim, her posture as upright as ever. She had maintained, too, her old way of holding her head in a manner that verged on the defiant. Of course, with the bleak light falling on her face, I could hardly help but notice the lines that had appeared here and there. But by and large the Miss Kenton I saw before me looked surprisingly similar to the person who had inhabited my memory over these years. That is to say, it was, on the whole, extremely pleasing to see her again. For the first twenty or so minutes, I would say we exchanged the sort of remarks strangers might; she inquired politely about my journey thus far, how I was enjoying my holiday, which towns and landmarks I had visited and so on. As we continued to talk, I must say I thought I began to notice further, more subtle changes which the years had wrought on her. For instance, Miss Kenton appeared, somehow, slower. slower. It is possible this was simply the calmness that comes with age, and I did try hard for some time to see it as such. But I could not escape the feeling that what I was really seeing was a weariness with life; the spark which had once made her such a lively, and at times volatile person seemed now to have gone. In fact, every now and then, when she was not speaking, when her face was in repose, I thought I glimpsed something like sadness in her expression. But then again, I may well have been mistaken about this. It is possible this was simply the calmness that comes with age, and I did try hard for some time to see it as such. But I could not escape the feeling that what I was really seeing was a weariness with life; the spark which had once made her such a lively, and at times volatile person seemed now to have gone. In fact, every now and then, when she was not speaking, when her face was in repose, I thought I glimpsed something like sadness in her expression. But then again, I may well have been mistaken about this.

After a little while, what little awkwardness as existed during the initial minutes of our meeting had dissipated completely, and our conversation took a more personal turn. We spent some time reminiscing about various persons from the past, or else exchanging any news we had concerning them, and this was, I must say, most enjoyable. But it was not so much the content of our conversation as the little smiles she gave at the end of utterances, her small ironic inflexions here and there, certain gestures with her shoulders or her hands, which began to recall unmistakably the rhythms and habits of our conversations from all those years ago. It was around this point, also, that I was able to establish some facts concerning her present circ.u.mstances. For instance, I learnt that her marriage was not in quite as parlous a state as might have been supposed from her letter; that although she had indeed left her home for a period of four or five days - during which time the letter I received had been composed - she had returned home and Mr. Benn had been very pleased to have her back. "It's just as well one of us is sensible about these things," she said with a smile.