Free Strange Music by Malcolm Macdonald Page B

village – her mother’s not well.’
    â€˜But Felix . . .?’
    â€˜I should think Felix is livid.’
    â€˜D’you think he has a right to be livid?’ Faith asked.
    Nicole stared blankly at her for a moment and then said, ‘Come downstairs and have a glass of wine – vin ordinaire, nothing special.’
    When they were seated – before a roaring log fire that cast massive shadows in that huge drawing room – Nicole said, ‘Why would he need a right to be angry with Angela? He thinks what she’s doing is self-destructive. So do I. And I’ll bet Marianne does, too.’
    â€˜It’s just this,’ Faith replied. ‘You risked your life in the war. You must have woken up on many mornings wondering if today was the day when you’d be betrayed and then shot. The same was true of Marianne. Maybe you and she still have those nightmares – and please, I don’t want to know, I’m not poking my nose in there, but the point is: you don’t seem to . You both have new lives and you both get on with them, whatever nightmare memories—’
    â€˜I think I know one reason why he might be angry, or not want to take part this evening,’ Nicole said. ‘I joined the resistance, so did Angela. So did Marianne. And we all know why Felix couldn’t possibly do the same – why it was far better for him to try to carry the news to America . . . with his reputation. He knows it, too, but there’s still something in there’ – she tapped her skull – ‘that wishes it could have been different.’
    â€˜Has he talked to you about it?’
    â€˜Sometimes. Not often. But yes, he has talked about it. I tell him I hardly ever think of it now. When I do, it seems like it happened to another person . . . or a previous existence. Like now I only do maths en français . I dream in English.’ She laughed. ‘I even discuss French novels in English, with a French couple we know in Welwyn Garden City. She lends me French books and I am happier discussing them in English. French is too vague, too abstract. English is concrete. Sorry! I only wish to show—’
    â€˜Exactly. I think Marianne would generally feel the same, and she, too, risked her life, day in and day out, during the war, as you said. But she has also built a new life and put all that behind her. I think – in fact, I know – that Felix believes Angela should be able to do the same. She has gone back to a wonderful job, with a crêche for Pippin, and no loss of seniority. But there’s this bloody man at the BBC who somehow has access to the war-crimes archives . . . oh, I don’t know. This is super wine.’
    â€˜Have some more.’ Nicole held out the bottle.
    â€˜No, thanks all the same. I’d better go up and see how Felix . . . If he’s simmered down.’
    Casually, carefully busying herself with returning the bottle to the tray beside her, Nicole said, ‘Do you still carry a torch for him – just a little bit?’
    â€˜Yes,’ Faith admitted, rising to go back upstairs. ‘But in a motherly sort of way. Felix is like a lot of artists, and I’ve met quite a few – there’s an eternal child within him.’
    â€˜Dangerous people,’ Nicole commented. ‘For any woman with a motherly streak!’
    Faith hesitated, laughed, and went on up the stairs. She had reached the top of the flight before she said, ‘Actually, that lets me out.’
    â€˜It must be over by now.’ Faith spoke while crossing the threshold into the Johnsons’ drawing room, which had been their workshop when they first moved in. Now it was the Scandinavian showpiece Marianne and Willard had intended to build from the start – the room whose functional elegance and superb craftsmanship (actually, more crafts woman ship in this case) would seduce all inquirers and waverers into the blessed