The Shift Key (26 page)

‘And then after I’d given my talk and seen how it affected people, I felt ashamed! Don’t you understand? I felt I’d been bought and paid for!’

He drained his glass and slammed it back on the table.

‘Thank heaven for Mrs Flaken and Mr Fidger! If they hadn’t spoken up, everybody would have been fobbed off with the official lie that nothing had actually happened, and the first they’d have known about how serious it really was would have been when they read about it in your paper! If any of them take the
Globe,
that is!’

‘As a matter of fact,’ Wilf said mildly, ‘we sell over twenty copies here. I asked.’

For a second Steven was thrown off-stride. But he recovered swiftly.

‘And I suppose the
Banner
sells a hundred! That’s not the point, is it?’

‘The point is,’ Jenny said in a firm clear voice, ‘that the truth
has
come to light. A bit late, maybe, but it’s out, and all the Piptons of the world can’t stuff this bit of toothpaste back in the tube.’

‘Good girl!’ said Don, and squeezed her hand.

Steven seized the wine-bottle and poured the last into his glass. He said, ‘That still isn’t the point!’

‘Then what is?’

‘They called tonight’s meeting to put a damper on the matter! To try and shut people up!’

‘But it didn’t work!’ Jenny cried.

‘No thanks to the people of Weyharrow!’

‘Nonsense! You just said it was because of Tom and Mary – Wait a moment!’ She hunched forward, elbows on the table, her keen blue gaze on Steven’s anguished face.

‘I just thought of something. Don, are there any aftereffects from Oneirin?’

‘The only ones known are the ones reported from right here … Hmm! I see what you’re driving at!’ He whistled under his breath. ‘But you’re in a better position to answer that than I am. How do you feel now?’

By this time the entire dining-room was paying attention,
including the waitresses. Nigel, returning, was brought up to date in whispers by one of his fellow councillors, and thrust forward to eavesdrop too.

‘Well …’ Jenny was flushing to find herself the focus of the gathering. ‘Well, I felt terribly ashamed of what I’d come so close to doing, naturally. But –’

‘But what?’ Don demanded.

‘But that’s over. Now I know it wasn’t really due to any fault in me. I did think it was! I told you, didn’t I, Steven? I remember saying –’

‘“I don’t have the right antennae for a reporter.” Yes.’ His voice was gravelly.

‘Now what I’m mostly feeling is – I don’t know how to put it – maybe a sort of grief? Yes, that’s it. Grief. I don’t feel ashamed any more, but I regret that the world is as it is, and I feel sorry for everybody in it. Including me.’

‘On that basis,’ Don suggested softly, ‘it seems you, Steven, are still in the first phase. Maybe you were hit with a stronger dose.’

‘Oh, I’m not sorry for myself!’ Steven rasped. ‘That I promise you! But I’m sorry as all get out for the people who tried to stop this evening’s meeting from digging out the truth!’

He jumped to his feet. ‘Thanks for the dinner, what I was able to eat of it! I’m off home. I have patients to look after in the morning –’

‘On Sunday?’ Jenny exclaimed.

Steven checked in mid-movement, looking foolish.

‘Before you go, I have a question for you,’ Don said, tilting back his chair. ‘Did your experience with Oneirin make you doubt your competence as a doctor?’

Steven’s forehead was gleaming with sweat. He muttered, ‘When Mr Ratch phoned me from the chemist’s, yes. But only for a moment! When it turned out that Mr Cashcart thought my prescription had done him more good than all the
pills he’d had before –’

‘Thought?’

Don inserted the single word with the subtlety of a hypodermic needle.

For a moment it seemed that he had got through to Steven. Then the young doctor shook his head and gave a harsh laugh.

‘That was a good try, Don. No one can doubt that you’re a bloody smart guy. But I’m thinking along very different lines. Just as a for instance: what’s the betting that tomorrow their precious archdeacon – or someone very like him – will be sent here to preach reassuring sermons in Mr Phibson’s place? As of this moment, I think I’d
prefer
a world beset by devils to the one we have, poisoned by chemicals that drive you mad! You can exorcise devils, can’t you? But what the hell can anybody do about the muck those careless bastards let escape?’

And he stormed out.

‘Spoken like a doctor,’ Don said when the resulting uproar had died down. That guy has his head screwed on.’

He tapped ash from his cigar. Catching sight of Nigel, he added, ‘It’ll be damned silly of your people if you let him get away. Speaking of getting away, though, may we have the bill?’

Ignoring that, Nigel said, ‘What do you mean? You heard what he said about us! Think we want someone with that kind of attitude in Weyharrow?’

Jenny too was staring at Don in disbelief, though Wilf was sitting back in his chair and inspecting his nails as though afraid of finding country dirt beneath them.

‘Yes,’ Don said after a pause. ‘That’s exactly who you need. I don’t think you can have been listening.’

Nigel reddened. ‘I came in late on the argument because I had to sort out a problem.’

‘But you heard me say: “spoken like a doctor”?’

‘Ah … Well, yes, of course.’

‘And a proper doctor is exactly what you need! Do you believe in devils – actual objective devils taking over people’s souls?’

Disconcerted, Nigel shook his head.

‘I should bloody hope not! On the other hand, now you know there’s been at least one major leak of Oneirin from Helvambrit,
and
that the stuff has after-effects lasting days or more, I hope you’re very worried indeed! That’s what Steven meant! You can’t argue with a chemical poison in your blood and bones! It’s
there,
and because the stuff is secret you can’t go and buy an antidote from the chemist’s!
That’s
what Steven saw at once, that none of you lot seemed to have cottoned on to yet! I’ll lay a bet that the only people here who’ve even started to think about suing Helvambrit are your lords and masters the Goodsirs who so much hate the firm because they bought the Trimborne mill instead of paying rent for it, which would have kept Basil and Helen in luxury for the indefinite future! Did none of you notice their faces when I said the Oneirin contract is worth over half a million pounds a year?’

He drew on his cigar and found with a grimace of disgust that he would have to relight it.

Nervous, Nigel produced and struck a match. He said, ‘But you can’t expect us to invite someone here who feels the way Steven does about us.’

There was a rumble of agreement from the rest of the company.

Blowing smoke, Don shook his head.

‘He won’t if you do.’

There was a puzzled silence. At length one of the other councillors strode forward.

‘All right! I suppose we’re obliged to you for telling us what really happened – though I don’t like your paper, or its pinko politics! But you don’t have any right to tell us what we
ought to do! You march in, all the way from London or somewhere, and start giving orders like you own the bloody place!’

Don fixed him with a level gaze. He said, ‘I think you missed my point. What I meant was that if you drive Dr Gloze away you’ll wind up with someone else to replace Dr – what’s his name? – Tripkin, who either won’t know or won’t believe that some of the nervous cases he has to deal with stem from leaks at Helvambrit. He’ll just scatter tranquillizers around the way your farmers do the sprays that Mr Pecklow is concerned about!’

Thrusting back his chair, he rose to his feet.

‘Speaking of whom! How is it that
I
– who’ve only been here since yesterday – realized how amazing it was when he took the same side as Mr Vikes?’

He stared down any answer, and went on: ‘I’ll tell you! It’s because Dr Gloze noticed! Who had only met them when he had to dress their bruises after they got in that fight the other morning! Think a reporter from outside, like me, can catch up that quickly on what’s going on? Nuts! All I could do was watch Dr Gloze’s face during the meeting … and from his expression I figured out what I just said. And I’m not wrong, am I? You really were surprised when the Vikeses and the Pecklows turned into allies
even though you too were closing ranks!’

‘What do you mean?’ said the former speaker uncertainly.

‘Against him! Against me! Against anybody who would tell you what was going on was due to anything but devils!’

Once more there was a pause. Don ended it with a glance at his watch.

‘Nigel, I asked for the bill. It isn’t here yet.’

There was a pause before the response came.

‘Oh! Oh, I thought you knew you were invited …’ Nigel drew himself up, with a glance at his fellow councillors.

‘And, you know, I said all along he’d be a good doctor for
Weyharrow …’

Realizing that wasn’t going to wear, he added hastily, ‘Not of course for the reason you just spelled out. Just because – well – I got the impression he was
sound.’

Sound
was a good word. Nods greeted it.

‘For what it’s worth, I think so too,’ Don sighed. Thanks for your generosity; I hope it may already have been repaid, because I took special care to mention your hotel in my story, and that’s a bit of free publicity if nothing else, though I hold no brief for what the subs may have done to my text … Wilf, are you ready? I want to phone in an update from the car.’

The redhead spread his hands, as if to say: ‘Can’t be too soon for me.’

‘And thanks again to you, Jenny,’ Don concluded, bending to kiss her cheek.

But she avoided him, looking elsewhere. She said, ‘You know, there’s one thing I still don’t get. This is the age of the information revolution, right? Everybody has access to floods of it all the time! More newspapers are sold – there are more news programmes on TV – more people have typewriters and photocopiers and word processors than ever before … Yet these people here’ – with abrupt defiance, glancing at Nigel first and then the rest of the customers – ‘let a scandal like this one carry on right under their fucking
nosesl
Why? Why did it have to
be you
that broke the story?’

Abruptly her large blue eyes were full of tears.

While the onlookers were still recovering from the shock of hearing a pretty girl use a crude term they might have passed over had it emanated from almost anybody else, Don laid a friendly hand on Jenny’s shoulder.

His answer was almost a whisper, though no one missed it.

‘I’ve been in this job longer than you’ve been alive …’

He briskened. ‘Right! Thanks again! Wilf, got the carkeys? Fine! And – oh, yes. Someone will keep an eye on the Ellerford kids, won’t they? Make sure they don’t do anything
stupid like set the house on fire? You know I met their parents in Hong Kong; if there’s anything I can do to help I will.’

Mechanically Nigel said as he followed Don and Wilf to the front entrance and signalled for their coats to be returned, ‘Yes, it’s in hand. Tomorrow – no, not tomorrow because it’s Sunday – next week a lawyer I know, who takes care of lots of people’s affairs around here …’

‘Ralph Haggledon?’ – with a suspicious cock of his head.

‘Any reason why not?’

‘Because unless I’m completely off my rocker he’s going to be preoccupied for the immediate future with the suit the Goodsirs are liable to bring against Helvambrit. I’ll find out whether my solicitor in London has a correspondent in the area. And I’ll pass on details to you. If your chef wants to sue, he’ll need a neutral lawyer …’

He grew suddenly aware that most of the customers from the dining-room had decided that this was the best time to end their meals and follow him. Rounding on them, he cried: ‘Yes! I am talking about the Goodsirs who sold the woods along the Chap valley for lumbering and the Trimborne mill to Helvambrit and now are more than likely getting set to sue before you even think of it in spite of the foul way you were treated! Mr Draycock told me that hereabouts “Goodsir” is a nickname for the Devil! Take my advice and don’t look any further for the power of evil in your village! No matter what your parson says! Good
night!’

A little after the door had closed on Don and Wilf, the company dispersed, as gloomy in its different way as those who had quit the Marriage under threat of demons.

Seeming to match their mood, since the public meeting ended clouds had overrun the valley from the west.

On the riverside terrace of the Court, Marmaduke watched
them blotting out the welkin. He was sitting on a stone bench that, despite the blanket wrapped around him, seemed to suck the warmth from his scrawny, aged hams. When he heard Basil’s car on the driveway, he found he was too tired to rise.

He was weary, but not uncontent. All the precautions that were his to take had now been taken. Awareness of that fact remained to comfort him when he realized that something more than cloud was cutting off his vision of the stars.

Until the last he fought to keep his eyes ajar. They were fixed open when he ceased to breathe.

There had been noises from outside the Doctor’s House: cars roaring past, perhaps – Steven thought bitterly – after their drivers and passengers had stayed longer than he at the hotel or pub.

He had eaten the hors-d’oeuvre of his dinner, plus a few mouthfuls of what followed. Also he had taken at most two glasses of white wine. Yet he couldn’t remember what the main course had been; he might as well have been drunk to the point of amnesia!

Next time someone asked him, ‘Are forces of evil at large in Weyharrow?’, he was resolved to answer
YES
!

This damned village was unbearable!

He had changed into pyjamas in the sparsely-furnished guestroom, washed, brushed his teeth, gone through the standard nightly ritual, when it dawned on him that he was hungry. Preparing his speech had drained him of energy – delivering it, for what little it proved to be worth – and then taking over from Nigel Mender when he broke down under pressure …