Rum Affair Read Online Free PDF Page B

Canterbury addressing Cardinal Spellman. It was the same sort of tone.
    Hennessy said: “To be honest, I got a bit bored with winning the thing. Thought I’d let all you others in for a stab. But I’m tempted to alter my mind.”
    The bifocals glinted under the pink-shaded lights. “You mustn’t think about us. We’ll all have a jolly good sail; and we’ll do our damndest to give you a race. Won’t we, Rupert?”
    Rupert agreed, in time, and Hennessy, his voice sharpened a little, said chaffingly: “Oh, come now. I’ve said Dolly’ s a nice little boat, but you won’t pretend she’s a match for Symphonetta. Gave her a birthday present this year: complete new set of sails – jib, stays’l, main, mizzen, the lot; and a hell of a lot of new gadgets you’ve never heard of, you bunch of caravan owners. You’ll never see Symphonetta, far less make better time.”
    His manner was jocular, though his words were not. Johnson merely grinned, but Rupert said, with equally furious levity: “What d’you bet?”
    “Five thousand quid,” said Hennessy.
    And Rupert said: “Done!”
    The retort of a child. As Hennessy returned and sat down, I remarked: “Why do that? He’ll never pay if you win.”
    He was not displeased that I had overheard. “Oh, these young Guardsmen are rolling in loot. I know Dolly. She’s been here before with her bloody circus act: glass-eyed Rembrandt and a boatload of models. They’ll make a cock-up of the whole thing before the race is a couple of days old, you mark my words, and you’ll be glad to cross over to old Hennessy’s boat.”
    And bach to bed again: I suppose.

 
     
THREE
    The Royal Highland Club headquarters at Rhu was full on Monday evening when I arrived from Edinburgh in my chauffeur-drive Humber Imperial, with my luggage and one or two cases of Michael’s. Here, I was to stay overnight. For the next six to seven days, as everyone knew, I was to sail with Johnson on his yacht Dolly, where I was to be painted in oils.
    The send-off from Edinburgh had been memorable: Michael had done a good job. It was a pity that the sea made him sick. He would join me instead at Tobermory, where the Club race would end, and where we had booked rooms in the biggest hotel.
    On the other hand, it wasn’t a pity at all that Michael would not be on board when I got to Rum to see Kenneth. Michael disliked Kenneth and had done his utmost to part us. Happily, he had never discovered that, although I wrote to Kenneth in London, the letters were actually forwarded to Rum. If Michael had known about Rum, I should never have been singing at this year’s Edinburgh Festival. On thinking that over, it struck me that Michael was acquiring altogether too much grip on my life.
    In any case, the press and television coverage had been good, and in the evening papers there was quite a lot about Johnson, as well as the usual rags to riches blurb on my life. Michael was skilful at keeping the story alive. People resent success: but not when it happens to one of themselves.
    Johnson’s background was landed gentry: his people were well known in Surrey. After public school and university he had joined the Royal Navy, thank God: I was apprehensive a trifle about my future on Dolly. But for the last fifteen years he had been known for one thing: his celebrity portraits. From being a good technician and a sympathetic artist, he had become probably the best known portrait artist there is. By now, of course, the hallmark of having arrived is a portrait by Johnson. Long before then, he could choose his commissions from a list as long as the phone book.
    He was unmarried. Who needs a wife with a boatload of models?
    I had wondered, as Michael made all the arrangements, whether I was being quite wise. But I was too well known, and Johnson was too well known, to do this in secret. Do it with a fanfare of publicity, and let the press have their interviews at the times and places we wanted, and we had control of the