if.thunderball-第2章

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less　than　what　he　spent　in　Blades　in　one　day；　and　it　made　him　feel　wonderful。　Well；　you　know　M　always　likes　trying　new　things；　and　he　went　there　for　ten　days　and　came　back　absolutely　sold　on　the　place。　Yesterday　he　gave　me　a　great　talking…to　all　about　it　and　this　morning　in　the　post　I　got　a　whole　lot　of　tins　of　treacle　and　wheat　germ　and　heaven　knows　what　all。　I　don't　know　what　to　do　with　the　stuff。　I'm　afraid　my　poor　poodle'll　have　to　live　on　it。　Anyway；　that's　what's　happened　and　I　must　say　I've　never　seen　him　in　such　wonderful　form。　He's　absolutely　rejuvenated。〃
　
　〃He　looked　like　that　blasted　man　in　the　old　Kruschen　Salts　advertisements。　But　why　does　he　pick　on　me　to　go　to　this　nuthouse？〃
　
　Miss　Moneypenny　gave　a　secret　smile。　〃You　know　he　thinks　the　world　of　you…or　perhaps　you　don't。　Anyway；　as　soon　as　he　saw　your　Medical　he　told　me　to　book　you　in。〃　Miss　Moneypenny　screwed　up　her　nose。　〃But；　James；　do　you　really　drink　and　smoke　as　much　as　that？　It　can't　be　good　for　you；　you　know。〃　She　looked　up　at　him　with　motherly　eyes。
　
　Bond　controlled　himself。　He　summoned　a　desperate　effort　at　nonchalance；　at　the　throw…away　phrase。　〃It's　just　that　I'd　rather　die　of　drink　than　of　thirst。　As　for　the　cigarettes；　it's　really　only　that　I　don't　know　what　to　do　with　my　hands。〃　He　heard　the　stale；　hangover　words　fall　like　clinker　in　a　dead　grate。　Cut　out　the　schmaltz！　What　you　need　is　a　double　brandy　and　soda。
　
　Miss　Moneypenny's　warm　lips　pursed　into　a　disapproving　line。　〃About　the　hands…that's　not　what　I've　heard。〃
　
　〃Now　don't　you　start　on　me；　Penny。〃　Bond　walked　angrily　toward　the　door。　He　turned　round。　〃Any　more　ticking…off　from　you　and　when　I　get　out　of　this　place　I'll　give　you　such　a　spanking　you'll　have　to　do　your　typing　off　a　block　of　Dunlopillo。〃
　
　Miss　Moneypenny　smiled　sweetly　at　him。　〃I　don't　think　you'll　be　able　to　do　much　spanking　after　living　on　nuts　and　lemon　juice　for　two　weeks；　James。〃
　
　Bond　made　a　noise　between　a　grunt　and　a　snarl　and　stormed　out　of　the　room。
　
　2。　Shrublands
　
　James　Bond　slung　his　suitcase　into　the　back　of　the　old　chocolate…brown　Austin　taxi　and　climbed　into　the　front　seat　beside　the　foxy；　pimpled　young　man　in　the　black　leather　windcheater。　The　young　man　took　a　b　out　of　his　breast　pocket；　ran　it　carefully　through　both　sides　of　his　duck…tail　haircut；　put　the　b　back　in　his　pocket；　then　leaned　forward　and　pressed　the　self…starter。　The　play　with　the　b；　Bond　guessed；　was　to　assert　to　Bond　that　the　driver　was　really　only　taking　him　and　his　money　as　a　favor。　It　was　typical　of　the　cheap　self…assertiveness　of　young　labor　since　the　war。　This　youth；　thought　Bond；　makes　about　twenty　pounds　a　week；　despises　his　parents；　and　would　like　to　be　Tommy　Steele。　It's　not　his　fault。　He　was　born　into　the　buyers'　market　of　the　Welfare　State　and　into　the　age　of　atomic　bombs　and　space　flight。　For　him；　life　is　easy　and　meaningless。　Bond　said；　〃How　far　is　it　to　Shrublands？〃
　
　The　young　man　did　an　expert　but　unnecessary　racing　change　round　an　island　and　changed　up　again。　〃　'Bout　half　an　hour。〃　He　put　his　foot　down　on　the　accelerator　and　neatly　but　rather　dangerously　overtook　a　lorry　at　an　intersection。
　
　〃You　certainly　get　the　most　out　of　your　Bluebird。〃
　
　The　young　man　glanced　sideways　to　see　if　he　was　being　laughed　at。　He　decided　that　he　wasn't。　He　unbent　fractionally。　〃My　dad　won't　spring　me　something　better。　Says　this　old　crate　was　okay　for　him　for　twenty　years　so　it's　got　to　be　okay　for　me　for　another　twenty。　So　I'm　putting　money　by　on　my　own。　Halfway　there　already。〃
　
　Bond　decided　that　the　b　play　had　made　him　over…censorious。　He　said；　〃What　are　you　going　to　get？〃
　
　〃Volkswagen　Minibus。　Do　the　Brighton　races。〃
　
　〃That　sounds　a　good　idea。　Plenty　of　money　in　Brighton。〃
　
　〃I'll　say。〃　The　young　man　showed　a　trace　of　enthusiasm。　〃Only　time　I　ever　got　there；　a　couple　of　bookies　had　me　take　them　and　a　couple　of　tarts　to　London。　Ten　quid　and　a　fiver　tip。　Piece　of　cake。〃
　
　〃Certainly　was。　But　you　can　get　both　kinds　at　Brighton。　You　want　to　watch　out　for　being　mugged　and　rolled。　There　are　some　tough　gangs　operating　out　of　Brighton。　What's　happened　to　The　Bucket　of　Blood　these　days？〃
　
　〃Never　opened　up　again　after　that　case　they　had。　The　one　that　got　in　all　the　papers。〃　The　young　man　realized　that　he　was　talking　as　if　to　an　equal。　He　glanced　sideways　and　looked　Bond　up　and　down　with　a　new　interest。　〃You　going　into　the　Scrubs　or　just　visiting？〃
　
　〃Scrubs？〃
　
　〃Shrublands…Wormwood　Scrubs…Scrubs；〃　said　the　young　man　laconically。　〃You're　not　like　the　usual　ones　I　get　to　take　there。　Mostly　fat　women　and　old　geezers　who　tell　me　not　to　drive　so　fast　or　it'll　shake　up　their　sciatica　or　something。〃
　
　Bond　laughed。　〃I've　got　fourteen　days　without　the　option。　Doctor　thinks　it'll　do　me　good。　Got　to　take　it　easy。　What　do　they　think　of　the　place　round　here？〃
　
　The　young　man　took　the　turning　off　the　Brighton　road　and　drove　westward　under　the　Downs　through　Poynings　and　Fulking。　The　Austin　whined　stolidly　through　the　inoffensive　countryside。　〃People　think　they're　a　lot　of　crackpots。　Don't　care　for　the　place。　All　those　rich　folk　and　they　don't　spend　any　money　in　the　area。　Tearooms　make　a　bit　out　of　them…specially　out　of　the　cheats。〃　He　looked　at　Bond。　〃You'd　be　surprised。　Grown　people；　some　of　them　pretty　big　shots　in　the　City　and　so　forth；　and　they　motor　around　in　their　Bentleys　with　their　bellies　empty　and　they　see　a　tea　shop　and　go　in　just　for　their　cups　of　tea。　That's　all　they're　allowed。　Next　thing；　they　see　some　guy　eating　buttered　toast　and　sugar　cakes　at　the　next　table　and　they　can't　stand　it。　They　order　mounds　of　the　stuff　and　hog　it　down　just　like　kids　who've　broken　into　the　larder…looking　round　all　the　time　to　see　if　they've　been　spotted。　You'd　think　people　like　that　would　be　ashamed　of　themselves。〃
　
　〃Seems　a　bit　silly　when　they're　paying　plenty　to　take　the　cure　or　whatever　it　is。〃
　
　〃And　that's　another　thing。〃　The　young　man's　voice　was　indignant。　〃I　can　understand　charging　twenty　quid　a　week　and　giving　you　three　square　meals　a　day；　but　how　do　they　get　away　with　charging　twenty　quid　for　giving　you　nothing　but　hot　water　to　eat？　Doesn't　make　sense。〃　〃I　suppose　there　are　the　treatments。　And　it　must　be　worth　it　to　the　people　if　they　get　well。〃
　
　〃Guess　so；〃　said　the　young　man　doubtfully。　〃Some　of　them　do　look　a　bit　different　when　I　e　to　take　them　back　to　the　station。〃　He　sniggered。　〃And　some　of　them　change　into　real　old　goats　after　a　week　of　nuts　and　so　forth。　Guess　I　might　try　it　myself　one　day。〃　〃What　do　you　mean？〃
　
　The　young　man　glanced　at　Bond。　Reassured　and　remembering　Bond's　worldly　ments　on　Brighton；　he　said；　〃Well；　you　see　we　got　a　girl　here　in　Washington。　Racy　bird。　Sort　of　local　tart；　if　you　see　what　I　mean。　Waitress　at　a　place　called　The　Honey　Bee　Tea　Shop…　or　was；　rather。　She　started　most　of　us　off；　if　you　get　my　meaning。　Quid　a　go　and　she　knows　a　lot　of　French　tricks。　Regular　sport。　Well；　this　year　the　word　got　round　up　at　the　Scrubs　and　some　of　these　old　goats　began　patronizing　Polly…Polly　Grace；　that's　her　name。　Took　her　out　in　their　Bentleys　and　gave　her　a　roll　in　a　deserted　quarry　up　on　the　Downs。　That's　been　her　pitch　for　years。　Trouble　was　they　paid　her　five；　ten　quid　and　she　soon　got　too　good　for　the　likes　of　us。　Priced　her　out　of　our　market；　so　to　speak。　Inflation；　sort　of。　And　a　month　ago　she　chucked　up　her　job　at　The　Honey　Bee；　and　you　know　what？〃　The　young　man's　voice　was　loud　with　indignation。　〃She　bought　herself　a　beat…up　Austin　Metropolitan　for　a　couple　of　hundred　quid　and　went　mobile。　Just　like　the　London　tarts　in　Curzon　Street　they　talk　about　in　the　papers。　Now　she's　off　to　Brighton；　Lewes…anywhere　she　can　find　the　sports；　and　in　between　whiles　she　goes　to　work　in　the　quarry　with　these　old　goats　from　the　Scrubs！　Would　you　believe　it！〃　The　young　man　gave　an　angry　blast　on　his　klaxon　at　an　inoffensive　couple　on　a　tandem　bicycle。
　
　Bond　said　seriously；　〃That's　too　bad。　I　wouldn't　have　thought　these　people　would　be　interested　in　that　sort　of　thing　on　nut　cutlets　and　dandelion　wine　or　whatever　they　get　to　eat　at　this　place。〃
　
　The　young　man　snorted。　〃That's　all　you　know。　I　mean〃…he　felt　he　had　been　too　emphatic…〃that's　what　we　all　thought。　One　of　my　pals；　he's　the　son　of　the　local　doctor；　talked　the　thing　over　with　his　dad…　in　a　roundabout　way；　sort　of。　And　his　dad　said　no。　He　said　that　this　sort　of　diet　and　no　drink　and　plenty　of　rest；　what　with　the　massage　and　the　hot　and　cold　sitz　baths　and　what　have　you；　he　said　that　all　clears　the　blood　stream　and　tones　up　the　system；　if　you　get　my　meaning。　Wakes　the　old　goats　up…makes　'em　want　to　start　cutting　the　mustard　again；　if　you　know　the　song　by　that　Rosemary　Clooney。〃
　
　Bond　laughed。　He　said；　〃Well；　well。　Perhaps　there's　something　to　the　place　after　all。〃
　
　A　sign　on　the　right　of　the　road　said：　〃　Shrublands。　Gateway　to　Health。　First　right。　Silence　please。　〃　The　road　ran　through　a　wide　belt　of　firs　and　evergreens　in　a　fold　of　the　Downs。　A　high　wall　appeared　and　then　an　imposing；　mock…battlemented　entrance　with　a　Victorian　lodge　from　which　a　thin　wisp　of　smoke　rose　straight　up　among　the　quiet　trees。　The　young　man　turned　in　and　followed　a　gravel　sweep　between　thick　laurel　bushes。　An　elderly　couple　cringed　off　the　drive　at　a　blare　from　his　klaxon　and　then　on　the　right　there　were　broad　stretches　of　lawn　and　neatly　flowered　borders　and　a　sprinkling　of　slowly　moving　figures；　alone　and　in　pairs；　and　behind　them　a　redbrick　Victorian　monstrosity　from　which　a　long　glass　sun　parlor　extended　to　the　edge　of　the　grass。
　
　The　young　man　pulled　up　beneath　a　heavy　portico　with　a　crenelated　roof。　Beside　a　varnished；　iron…studded　arched　door　stood　a　tall　glazed　urn　above　which　a　notice　said：　〃　No　smoking　inside。　Cigarettes　here　please。　〃　Bond　got　down　from　the　taxi　and　pulled　his　suitcase　out　of　the　back。　He　gave　the　young　man　a　ten…shilling　tip。　The　young　man　accepted　it　as　no　less　than　his　due。　He　said；　〃Thanks。　You　ever　want　to　break　out；　you　can　call　me　up。　Polly's　not　the　only　one。　And　there's　a　tea　shop　on　the　Brighton　road　has　buttered　muffins。　So　long。〃　He　banged　the　gears　into　bottom　and　ground　off　back　the　way　he　had　e。　Bond　picked　up　his　suitcase　and　walked　resignedly　up　the　steps　and　through　the　heavy　door。
　
　Inside　it　was　very　warm　and　quiet。　At　the　reception　desk　in　the　big　oak…paneled　hall　a　severely　pretty　girl　in　starched　white　weled　him　briskly。　When　he　had　signed　the　register　she　led　him　through　a　series　of　somberly　furnished　public　rooms　and　down　a　neutral…smelling　white　corridor　to　the　back　of　the　building。　Here　there　was　a　municating　door　with　the　annex；　a　long；　low；　cheaply　built　structure　with　rooms　on　both　sides　of　a　central　passage。　The　doors　bore　the　names　of　flowers　and　shrubs。　She　showed　him　into　Myrtle；　told　him　that　〃the　Chief〃　would　see　him　in　an　hour's　time；　at　six　o'clock；　and　left　him。　It　was　a　room…shaped　room　with　furniture…shaped　furniture　and　dainty　curtains。　The　bed　was　provided　with　an　electric　blanket。　There　was　a　vase　containing　three　marigolds　beside　the　bed　and　a　book　called　Nature　Cure　Explained　by　Alan　Moyle；　M。N。B。A。　Bond　opened　it　and　ascertained　that　the　initials　stood　for　〃Member：　British　Naturopathic　Association