Portrait of the Spy as a Young Man by Edward Wilson

Author:Edward Wilson [Wilson, Edward]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781911350873
Published: 2020-06-10T16:00:00+00:00

Suffolk: April 2015

Although Catesby was an old man he often thought about sex and mating. In fact, it was impossible not to with the view from his office over the garden in April. His favourite couple were Monsieur et Madame Turdus Philomelos. The song thrush pair had a carefully delineated patch of grass which they almost gardened. Catesby deduced that they were not just feeding themselves, but picking up beakfuls of mud to line the bottom of the nest they were building. Thrushes were the most house proud of birds. Woodpigeons were at the other end of the spectrum. They made sloppy ramshackle nests that often came down in the wind bringing eggs and nestlings to a sorry end – but there was no short supply of woodpigeons because their rampant sex lives provided chicks all year round. And they had no shame. The back of a falling-to-pieces garden bench was their favourite playground. They would spend hours necking, but it was always the hen bird who initiated the serious sex stuff. The hens would flaunt their backsides and push themselves at the cock pigeons – and sometimes pursue the male birds across the garden. The collar doves behaved in a more seemly fashion – perhaps because they were foreign.

Catesby was watching a goldfinch hop across the grass when he heard someone at the door. He knew it was his granddaughter by the polite tentative knocking. ‘Come in, my dear.’

She entered carrying a thick folder of A4 paper and gave Catesby a hug and kiss.

‘What’s that?’ said Catesby, nodding at the folder even though he already knew.

‘I’ve printed out what I have of your memoir so far, but I’ve interpolated it with historical context – and, dare I say, my own interpretations. It’s fifty-seven thousand words – so I would say we are halfway there.’

‘Are you pleased?’

‘Your recollections are clear and detailed, but what pleases me most is your emotional honesty.’

‘Oh god, can you cut those pieces out? It’s because you got me drunk.’

‘History is as much about what people felt at the time as what they did.’

‘My dearest darling, what I felt at the time should go to the grave with me.’

‘If that’s what you want, Granddad, I will respect your wishes – but please let me keep your thoughts and feelings.’

‘Fine, if you restrict it to my fears about death, my suspicions of treachery and my hatred of the Nazis – but I can’t see what the love life of a foolish young man has to do with history.’

‘History is about inner lives too.’

Catesby began to laugh.

‘What’s so funny, Granddad?’

Catesby looked at his granddaughter. He knew that others found her stunningly beautiful as well. ‘I was just thinking about your inner life – which has always been a mystery to me as well as others in the family.’

‘My ex was too clingy.’

The cat flap suddenly opened and slammed shut. A black cat miaowed and jumped on to Catesby’s lap. ‘Speaking of clingy. But this one’s only hungry.’ Catesby opened a tin and dropped two dollops into a bowl.

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