Free The Human Factor by Graham Greene Page B

on?’
    â€˜Doctor Percival was in yesterday when you were away, and we got talking. Do you know, I really think they may be sending me abroad? He was asking if I’d mind a few more tests . . . blood, urine, radio of the kidneys, et cetera, et cetera. He said they had to be careful about the tropics. I liked him. He seems to be a sporting type.’
    â€˜Racing?’
    â€˜No, only fishing as a matter of fact. That’s a pretty lonely sport. Percival’s a bit like me – no wife. Tonight we thought we’d get together and see the town. I haven’t seen the town for a long while. Those chaps from the Department of the Environment are a pretty sad lot. Couldn’t you face being a grass widower, old man, just for one evening?’
    â€˜My last train leaves Euston at 11.30.’
    â€˜I’ve got the flat all to myself tonight. The Environment men have both gone off to a polluted area. You can have a bed. Double or single, whichever you prefer.’
    â€˜Please – a single bed. I’m getting to be an old man, Davis. I don’t know what plans you and Percival have. . .’
    â€˜I thought dinner in the Café Grill and afterwards a spot of strip-tease. Raymond’s Revuebar. They’ve got Rita Rolls . . .’
    â€˜Do you think Percival likes that sort of thing?’
    â€˜I sounded him out, and can you believe it? He’s never been to a strip-tease in his life. He said he’d love to take a peek with colleagues he can trust. You know how it is with work like ours. He feels the same way. Nothing to talk about at a party for reasons of security. John Thomas doesn’t even have a chance to lift his head. He’s morose – that’s the word. But if John Thomas dies, God help you, you might as well die too. Of course it’s different for you – you are a married man. You can always talk to Sarah and . . .’
    â€˜We’re not supposed to talk even to our wives.’
    â€˜I bet you do.’
    â€˜I don’t, Davis. And if you are thinking of picking up a couple of tarts I wouldn’t talk to them either. A lot of them are employed by MI5 – oh, I always forget they’ve changed our names. We are all DI now. I wonder why? I suppose there’s a Department of Semantics.’
    â€˜You sound a bit fed up too.’
    â€˜Yes. Perhaps a party will do me good. I’ll telephone to Sarah and tell her – what?’
    â€˜Tell her the truth. You are dining with one of the big boys. Important for your future in the firm. And I’m giving you a bed. She trusts me. She knows I won’t lead you astray.’
    â€˜Yes, I suppose she does.’
    â€˜And, damn it all, that’s true too, isn’t it?’
    â€˜I’ll ring her up when I go out to lunch.’
    â€˜Why not do it here and save money?’
    â€˜I like my calls private.’
    â€˜Do you really think they bother to listen in to us?’
    â€˜Wouldn’t you in their position?’
    â€˜I suppose I would. But what the hell of a lot of dreary stuff they must have to tape.’
    2
    The evening was only half a success, though it had begun well enough. Doctor Percival in his slow unexciting fashion was a good enough companion. He made neither Castle nor Davis feel he was their superior in the department. When Colonel Daintry’s name arose he poked gentle fun at him – he had met him, he said, at a shooting week-end. ‘He doesn’t like abstract art and he doesn’t approve of me. That’s because I don’t shoot,’ Doctor Percival explained, ‘I only fish.’
    They were at Raymond’s Revuebar by that time, crushed at a small table, just large enough to hold three whiskies, while a pretty young thing was going through curious antics in a hammock.
    â€˜I’d like to get my hook into her ,’ Davis said.
    The girl drank from a bottle of High and Dry