The Rose of Tibet by Lionel Davidson Read Free Book Online

was the matter with him. He couldn’t bear to be by himself. His limbs seemed always to be tense, and he caught himself holding his breath. He couldn’t sit and he couldn’t lie. He couldn’t read and he couldn’t eat. Above all, he couldn’t sleep.
    He knew that Stahl was in constant touch with Calcutta; and that Lister-Lawrence was in touch with Kalimpong; and that the Tibetan representative there was in touch with his government. Everybody was in touch with everybody else, but nobody knew what had happened to the missing party.
    He went to see Stahl again. He asked whether it wasn’t time now for inquiries to be handled officially by the Foreign Office. Stahl said inquiries were being handled officially; Lister-Lawrence was an official. But the Foreign Office couldn’t be involved because the film party had no right to be in Tibet at all. They had gone in – certainly through no fault of their own – without authorization and hence at their own peril. The situation was difficult and obscure. It was causing him a great deal of worry, but he had no doubt they would have news soon.
    This interview had taken place on 18 November; and the news had come one week later to the day: 25 November 1949 , a Friday. Houston went out and got drunk. He remained drunk all the week-end.
    He thought Glynis came in at some time on the Saturday; the flat was certainly tidy when he awoke on Sunday morning. She came again later, and he found her cleaning him up, and was aware presently that Lesley Sellers was there, too. He was in something of a stupor at the time, but he remembered thinking that it was very improper for the two young women to be there together. He realized he should have asked Glynis for the return of her key weeks ago; and that something must have gone sadly wrong with his planning. He heard snatches of their conversation.
    ‘I guessed it must have been that. When did it happen?’
    ‘Two or three weeks ago, apparently, but we only heard on Friday. The avalanche buried them all.’
    ‘They found the – they found them, did they?’
    ‘Oh, yes. They were all dead.’
    ‘Poor Charles. They were so terribly close.’
    ‘Yes.’  
        
    He had no recollection of the next week at all. He thought he went to school. Perhaps he attended his evening classes, too. He seemed to be out a good deal. He vaguely rememberedhaving a fight with a man in a public house in Tottenham Court Road, and waking up one night in the tube terminus at Morden. He had confused impressions of both girls wanting him to go away somewhere.
    And then it was December, and half a year had gone since he had seen his brother last; and everyone was telling him to pull himself together; and at length had had done this. He had gone in to see the Head and told her he would not be returning next term. And he had written to the L.C.C. Further Education authorities, telling them the same.
    Then Lesley was asking finally and once and for all if he wouldn’t come to Paris because it would take him out of himself; and Glynis was asking in the same terms if he wouldn’t come to Bournemouth. And he thanked them both for their charity and forbearance and said that he wouldn’t; he meant to spend Christmas by himself.
    And this was just as well; for on the afternoon before Christmas Eve, another Friday, when he was only mildly drunk, he had received a visitor. Stahl had telephoned first, at about a quarter to four; and at a quarter past his black chauffeur-driven Bentley had pulled up outside in the rain.
    He had refused a drink, his restless eyes jerking spasmodically over Houston’s dishevelled figure, but had accepted a cigarette, and sat down looking round the room.
    ‘What I’ve got to say,’ he said flatly, ‘might not strike you as being particularly seasonal. I thought you might like to ponder it over the holiday.’
    Houston said nothing. He wanted another drink, but he had caught the disapproving look in the roving eyes and thought he had