The anti-death league by Kingsley Amis

Author:Kingsley Amis [Amis, Kingsley]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction - General, Classic fiction
ISBN: 9780140028034
Publisher: London : Penguin Books, 1968, c1966.
Published: 1966-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Lucy tapped quietly at the door of Catharine's bedroom. Churchill's voice called, "Come in." He was sitting up in bed reading a paperback novel. Catharine was asleep. "James, are you all right?" "Yes, of course. Why?" "You looked sort of startled. James, your nice friend Max Hunter is here. He says he'd like to talk to you. He was terrifically emphatic that it was nothing urgent and could perfectly well keep till the morning, but since he was here he just thought he might as well pass the word." Churchill got out of bed, put on a dressing-gown and slippers and followed Lucy out. She led him into her bedroom. "Is she all right?" she asked. "Yes. I made her take a sleeping-pill." "Have you taken one?" "No, I don't like them. Where can I find Max?" "I'm afraid I've put him in the library. It's rather nasty in there, but there are two almost possible chairs, and at least you won't have my dentist friend and his friends breathing down your neck. They seem to be very thick on the ground tonight for some reason." "Anybody I know, apart from Max?" "There's your other nice friend, Captain Leonard. Brian, I mean. He won't go. He sort of keeps getting on the end of the queue again. Then I was half expecting Alastair, but it's getting a bit late for him now. Those are the only ones you know, I think. We may as well go down." They left the bedroom and moved along the passage. "In fact," Lucy went on, "there are two of them in the drawing-room I don't know myself. They're somebody's friends, I gather. It's funny how the hot weather seems to bring them out." As they started descending the stairs, Churchill's eye was caught by the figure of the girl on the tapestry that hung there. There was something unnatural in its posture, a stiffness he had not noticed before. He saw too that parts of its dress were slightly discolored, presumably by damp. "Oh well, I suppose I'd better get ready for Brian," said Lucy. "His turn seems to come round quicker and quicker. You know, I wish he wouldn't go on so. I mean talking. But you can't help liking him, can you?" "No. Thanks, Lucy. May see you later." "Now mind you don't sit up chatting all night." Until this evening Churchill had only seen the library by day. Most of it was in semi-darkness now, so that the books filling its walls looked even more unreadable. They had been crammed on the shelves anyhow, some in horizontal piles, others with their spines facing inwards. Among their bindings an antiquated dull red was most prominent. They gave off a strong whiff of other people's boredom. Here and there, mostly on the floor, were busts of varying sizes. Churchill had looked them over one afternoon and had come to the conclusion that, whatever connection with literature any given one of the men represented might or might not have had, all of them were certainly dead.

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