Saturn Over the Water
Page 30
Well, this brings me to the surprise I promised you – remember? After doing what I had to do with his manuscript and promising to show it to you, I brought it up to town along with my own manuscript, at the beginning of last week. You were still away, then. Last Friday I suddenly decided I’d spend the week-end at my Cotswold pub and perhaps clear up a few points with Tim. On Saturday morning I walked over to the house, only to find they’d gone. The local woman, who’d done their cleaning, was still around, and she told me what had happened. On Wednesday afternoon, she said, an enormous black man had come to the door. She’d answered his ring herself, and there he was, nearly frightening her out of her life, in a kind of fancy native dress with a beautiful piece of pink stuff on his head. He’d gone in and talked to them for two hours, then they’d started packing, and next morning, Thursday, they were off. They were very sorry, they told her, but they just had to go.
When I got back to my pub, there was a hired Rolls standing outside, and having a drink inside was a man with white hair, a big nose, and eyes that didn’t seem to focus properly. I didn’t know him, yet somehow I felt that I ought to. ‘Now sir,’ said my landlord, ‘here’s a gentleman who’ll tell you about Mr Bedford. Great friends, they are. Aren’t you, Mr Sulgrave?’ I told the stranger that if he was looking for Tim Bedford, he was out of luck, because Tim wasn’t there. ‘Could you tell me where he’s gone?’ he said. ‘It’s rather urgent because I have to return to East Africa shortly. My name’s Magorious – Dr Magorious.’
And that’s not all, though I didn’t know this when I promised you a surprise the other day. It happened just before I came along here. A man rang me up, apologised for bothering me, but said he knew Tim and Rosalia Bedford and wanted to talk to me about Tim’s manuscript. I told him I was coming along here to collect it from you, so we arranged he should come and see me tomorrow morning. I had to tell him I was rather astonished he should know about the manuscript because Tim had told me he was keeping it secret. ‘I wouldn’t worry about that,’ he said in a rather dry manner. ‘And I’ll be round in the morning. By the way – my name’s Mitchell.’