The Russian Interpreter

‘Of course it’s natural,’ he said. ‘It’s the most beautiful honey blonde hair I’ve ever seen. I expect she was teasing you the other day, Paul. She’s a terrible tease, you know.’

‘What did he say?’ demanded Raya, when Manning hesitated.

‘He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.’

‘Translate it, all the same,’ she ordered. He did so.

‘Gordon is a good judge of women,’ she said. ‘He knows how to appreciate them, and how to deal with them. Tell him so.’

‘She says you know how to suck up to people,’ Manning told Proctor-Gould sourly. He felt irritated at being teased in front of Proctor-Gould. No doubt Raya was intelligent enough to see that Proctor-Gould was one of those men who were attracted to a woman only when she was already attached to someone else. No doubt she was making use of him merely as a fulcrum against which to lever Manning. All the same … All the same, the world no longer seemed quite as simple as it had on that day in the forest, when he had lain beside the lake with Raya in the still sunshine. The thought was a sad one.

‘Tell Raya,’ said Proctor-Gould, ‘that I should like her to consider coming to England as one of my clients.’

Manning stared at him.

‘This is rather sudden, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘Are you sure it’s a serious proposition?’

Proctor-Gould shook his head reproachfully.

‘Paul,’ he said, ‘you’re supposed to interpret what I say, you know, not argue about it.’

‘I’m not on duty now, Gordon.’

‘I thought you were, Paul.’

‘Surely this is a social occasion, not a business one.’

‘In my profession all occasions are business ones. In any case, I’m paying you, Paul.’

‘Don’t be silly, Gordon.’

‘I paid you for the evening we went to the opera.’

‘Will you please tell me what’s going on?’ Raya asked Manning.

‘Anyway, Gordon,’ said Manning, ‘I think you’d have to admit that this case is a little different.’

‘In what way?’

‘Well, frankly, this seems to be more like a personal interest than a professional one.’

‘Paul, you don’t own Raya, you know.’

‘Translation!’ cried Raya.

‘I think,’ said Manning, ‘it’s reasonable for me to ask on her behalf exactly what you have in mind.’

‘Anyway, you put it to her.’

‘I mean, she’s very different to the other clients you’ve lined up, isn’t she?’

‘Translation!’ shouted Raya, banging her hand on the table, so that other people in the restaurant looked round and stared at them.

‘They’re all different, Paul.’

‘But she’s a young girl.’

‘You make it sound as if she were under the age of consent.’

‘Well, she’s a personal friend. I’m not sure that I like the idea of her parading herself about in front of the public.’

‘Translation!’

Reluctantly, Manning told her what Proctor-Gould was proposing. She accepted at once with a brief nod – so brief that the other two did not immediately take it in.

‘How does she feel about it?’ asked Proctor-Gould. ‘Tell her I think her wonderful directness and charm will communicate remarkably well, even though she doesn’t know English.’

‘He thinks your lack of English would make it rather difficult,’ translated Manning. ‘Anyway, there’s no need to decide now. Think about it over the next couple of weeks and ask him to explain it to you in detail some time.’

‘I’ve said yes already,’ replied Raya. ‘I understand the project perfectly well.’

‘What does she say?’

‘She seems to be mildly interested.’

‘Yes, please,’ said Raya to Proctor-Gould, in English. ‘Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, please.’

Proctor-Gould began to grin, and then to tug at his ear as if to pull some string which would stop him grinning. He gave Raya his Russian business card, with his name printed on it in Cyrillic characters. She took a dozen playing-cards out of her pocket, selected one of them, the ten of diamonds, and wrote her name and the address of the Journalism Faculty among the diamonds. She had never given her private address to Manning, either.

‘What were you arguing about a moment or two back?’ she asked Manning.

‘If you want to know,’ he replied sourly, ‘I was just trying to make sure that Proctor-Gould intended the invitation seriously, and wasn’t just trying to take advantage of you.’

She laughed, and kissed him.

‘That was kind of you,’ she said. ‘My knight! My own trade union representative!’

15

They walked to the Hotel National, the three of them, arm in arm, in silence.

‘Well,’ said Manning, when they reached the entrance. ‘We’ll be saying good night, Gordon. I’ll see Raya to the bus.’

‘Good night, then,’ said Proctor-Gould, giving Raya a peck on the cheek and detaching his arm from hers. ‘I’m sorry we had words, Paul.’

‘It was my fault. I was behaving ridiculously.’

‘We were both a little hasty.’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, good night, then.’

‘Good night.’

Manning and Raya turned to go.

‘You won’t step up to my place for a late-night Nescafé?’ said Proctor-Gould, hesitating.

‘I don’t think we will, thanks, Gordon. Good night.’

Proctor-Gould made gestures to Raya of lifting a cup and drinking, raising his eyebrows interrogatively.