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Page 65
C for Cayley. Would Antony understand? Probably not, but it was
just worth trying. What was C? Long, short, long, short.
Umpty-iddy-umpty-iddy. Was that right? C yes, that was C. He
was sure of that. C. Umpty-iddy-umpty-iddy.
Hands in pockets, he got up and wandered across the room, humming
vaguely to himself, the picture of a man waiting for another man
(as it might be his friend Gillingham) to come in and take him
away for a walk or something. He wandered across to the books at
the back of Cayley, and began to tap absent-mindedly on the
shelves, as he looked at the titles. Umpty-iddy-umpty-iddy. Not
that it was much like that at first; he couldn't get the rhythm
of it .... Umpt-y-iddy-umpt-y-iddy. That was better. He was
back at Samuel Taylor Coleridge now. Antony would begin to hear
him soon. Umpt-y-iddy-umpt-y-iddy; just the aimless tapping of a
man who is wondering what book he will take out with him to read
on the lawn. Would Antony hear? One always heard the man in the
next flat knocking out his pipe. Would Antony understand?
Umpt-y-iddy-umpt-y-iddy. C. for Cayley, Antony. Cayley's here.
For God's sake, wait.
"Good Lord! Sermons!" said Bill, with a loud laugh.
(Umpt-y-iddy-umpt-y-iddy) "Ever read 'em, Cayley?"
"What?" Cayley looked up suddenly. Bill's back moved slowly
along, his fingers beating a tattoo on the shelves as he walked.
"Er no," said Cayley, with a little laugh. An awkward,
uncomfortable little laugh, it seemed to Bill.
"Nor do I." He was past the sermons now past the secret door but
still tapping in the same aimless way.
"Oh, for God's sake sit down," burst out Cayley. "Or go outside
if you want to walk about."
Bill turned round in astonishment.
"Hallo, what's the matter?"
Cayley was slightly ashamed of his outburst.
"Sorry, Bill," he apologized. "My nerves are on edge. Your
constant tapping and fidgeting about--"
"Tapping?" said Bill with an air of complete surprise.
"Tapping on the shelves, and humming. Sorry. It got on my
nerves."
"My dear old chap, I'm awfully sorry. I'll go out in the hall."
"It's all right," said Cayley, and went on with his letter. Bill
sat down in his chair again. Had Antony understood? Well,
anyhow, there was nothing to do now but wait for Cayley to go.
"And if you ask me," said Bill to himself, much pleased, "I ought
to be on the stage. That's where I ought to be. The complete
actor."
A minute, two minutes, three minutes .... five minutes. It was
safe now. Antony had guessed.
"Is the car there?" asked Cayley, as he sealed up his letter.
Bill strolled into the hall, called back "Yes," and went out to
talk to the chauffeur. Cayley joined him, and they stood there
for a moment.
"Hallo," said a pleasant voice behind them. They turned round
and saw Antony.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Bill."
With a tremendous effort Bill restrained his feelings, and said
casually enough that it was all right.
"Well, I must be off," said Cayley. "You're going down to the
village?"
"That's the idea."
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