A Future Arrived by Phillip Rock Read Free Book Online

Lord, they gave me something fizzy in a glass. I feel quite odd.”
    â€œA sedative. To make you sleep.”
    â€œYes. A sedative. I sleep well. A few whiskies and a glass of port. Sleep like a log. No more of that, I suppose.”
    â€œA whisky a day won’t do you any harm. Cut out the cigarettes, though.”
    â€œYes. That will please Hanna. Filthy habit anyway.” He struggled against sleep and managed to sit up. “Good of you to come, Martin. Pleased Hanna … and me. Oddest thing, old boy … truly the oddest thing. Ever happen to you?”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œRather like going to a moving-picture show. Everything so uncannily vivid … scenes … voices … Charlie down from Eton talking to Coatsworth in the pantry. And I was playing tennis on the lawn with Raymond Halliburton the summer Coatsworth arrived in a dogcart with all his luggage. Big man with muttonchop whiskers. Back straight as a gun. Hired him away from Lord Chelmsford. He soon set the house straight. Sacked half the servants for incompetence. Oh, I don’t know, Martin. Queer sort of day with the past crowding in on me like that. Do you ever recall events with such awful clarity?”
    â€œThere were times when I was obsessed by memory.”
    â€œThe war, you mean? Yes. Like Charlie counting the faces of the dead. Quite understandable though, isn’t it? I mean to say … memories of the Somme … Gallipoli. There was nothing ghastly in my thoughts today. Only … how can I put it? A terrible sadness. Something lost, you see. That old man dead and so much dying with him.”
    â€œI understand.”
    â€œKnew you would … if anybody …”
    â€œI’d get some sleep now.”
    â€œQuite so … quite so.” He sank back to the pillows. “Very queer day indeed … but … all things … pass.”

2
    M ARTIN ATE DINNER alone in a room lined with oak paneling and carved stone, two servants in livery standing motionless behind him against the wall. He poked at the superbly roasted beef and drank a red Burgundy, Hospices de Beaune, 1921, and, for some reason, felt immeasurably depressed. When the servants brought coffee, cognac, and cigars, the tall, diamond-paned windows began to rattle as a wind-borne rain slashed against them.
    â€œLooks like the weather’s changed for the worst,” he said, as much to hear a human voice as for any other reason.
    â€œIndeed it does, sir,” one of the servants replied—and left the room.
    He followed the ritual of preparing and lighting a fine Cuban panatella, sipped cognac, and blew smoke down the table, watching it drift past the empty chairs. He had just finished his first glass when the door opened and Charles came into the room, rubbing his hands and scowling.
    â€œChrist! It’s blowing a gale. The side curtains on the car don’t fit and I was damn near soaked.”
    â€œSide curtains on a Rolls?”
    â€œ My car, old chap—a rustic Austin.”
    â€œHave you eaten?”
    â€œYes. School grub.”
    â€œMessing with the inmates, eh?”
    â€œWe try to eat together as often as possible. Makes for a family atmosphere.”
    â€œHow is it?”
    â€œThe finest school meals in England—which isn’t exactly saying much. But we try our best. A bit heavy on lamb stew and shepherd’s pie.” He took a glass from the sideboard and poured himself a stiff brandy. “Care for a game?”
    They took the decanter into the billiard room and Charles racked the balls in a desultory fashion, his mind not on the task.
    â€œDid you have a good talk with Father?”
    Martin chalked his stick. “Short. The sedative was taking effect. He balked at the idea of going to a hospital, but I think he can be persuaded.”
    â€œI hope so. Was he still dwelling on the past?”
    â€œYes.”
    Charles frowned and rolled the cue ball from hand to