The Hive

The Study of Falling

by Lesley C. Johnson

a.k.a. 'the politician, the lighthouse and the trained cormorant'

Chapter 7

Equilibrium

Although it was far into the wee small hours of morning before we retired, I woke early after a short but very deep, dreamless sleep. For some minutes I watched my sleeping husband and my thoughts wandered over the previous day's lessons. Then I carefully lifted and moved out from under the arm lying across my stomach. I dressed quietly so as not to disturb Holmes and a sort of restlessness carried me out to venture around the decks.

I made my way to the nearly deserted Verandah Café for a hot tea, and saw George Kennington alone at a table looking through some papers. As I stood at the sideboard stirring in milk and sugar he glanced at me for a moment, then smiled looking down at his work. I remembered Holmes' suggestion from our first night aboard that I try to discover the reason for Kennington's sometimes sarcastic attitude and I approached his table.

"Good morning George. I see you are preparing for your presentation."

He looked up at me, several thoughts passed across his features, then he rose and with a slight edge to his voice said,

"An astounding observation -- you must be picking up some of your husband's abilities." I did not react but met his eyes calmly. In the quiet his nerve faltered. "Sorry." He gestured to the chair opposite his. "Would you ...care to join me, Mary?"

"Thank-you, George." I set down my cup and sat, not waiting for him to come round the table to pull out the chair.

"It was good of you to take on the organizing of this conference for everyone. I'm sorry I'm not a part of it."

"It's hardly in your field."

I nodded in acknowledgement. "Still it sounds interesting, and meeting scholars from other universities is always stimulating."

"Oh quite. I was lucky to contact so many and secure them on short notice. Of course, some would say that my entire motivation was to find an audience for my paper."

I smiled again,

"There are those who would say something like that."

He returned my smile and I added,

"I'm sure you are not quite so mercenary."

But at this remark his face suddenly darkened and he stared at me with obvious anger. He began gathering up his papers. I watched in confusion but then I made the connection to his response to Kempling's remark the day before.

"George, what is it -- what did I say?" I thought quickly and seized on the word. "Please George, don't go -- is it ...the word 'mercenary'? I'm sorry, George, I am completely ignorant as to why that offends you. Please explain it to me."

He stood over the table holding his papers, debating whether to answer me. I stood as well and reached across to touch his arm.

"Please George, I feel like an idiot... again. I seem always to be on the outside of things."

He considered for a moment and then sat down. I sat with him.

"You mean to say that you don't know what some of the others have said about my family?"

"God, no, George. I don't know anything about it."

He took a long breath and let it out again. Very quietly, staring at his clenched hands on the table, he told me.

"Before the war...my father's factory had been manufacturing armaments. There was a contract with the Huns. Of course it ended when war was declared. But some of our arms were used at the beginning against British troops.

"My older brother heard the worst of it." He finally looked at me.

"It's stupid, it's... not worth noticing, but ...I can't help reacting when I hear someone use that word in front of me. Some remarks were made that my brother could not ignore. He got into trouble at the university and even... well." He stopped.

"Oh, George, I'm so sorry. Honestly, I had not heard anything of this." I remembered his words to Kempling and considered whether to ask about it.

"George, surely John Kempling wouldn't be so crass as to imply..."

His expression changed from anger to embarrassment.

"No, of course not. I'm ashamed of myself for what I said to him yesterday. He was only giving his opinion on my paper, which, by the way, was far more insightful than I would have given him credit for. He had actually anticipated my argument before he'd even read that far. But I ascribed a more sinister meaning to his remarks and went on the attack without thinking. I returned and apologised to him immediately, or at least after I got my temper under control. I suppose you might say I've 'got a chip on my shoulder' about it. Stupid, really."

I did not see Caroline Dunworthy before we disembarked, otherwise I might have made an attempt to speak to her, though I was not entirely certain what I would have said.

When I returned to our stateroom I found Holmes dressed and gathering together our belongings. As we worked together packing everything away into our trunks in preparation for departure I told him of my conversation with Kennington.

I finished and he commented mildly,

"...The secrets that lurk in the hearts of men -- and women."

"How melodramatic, Holmes."

He arched an eyebrow at me and mused,

"You know, Russell, with regard to your difficulties with Miss Dunworthy, I'm surprised neither of us seized on the most obvious course of investigation into the matter."

"What would that be, Holmes?"

"Why, the usual dictum in that sort of case: Cherchez l'homme! "

"Very amusing." I said flatly, though I felt myself go pink. I thought I had better change the subject and rounded on him with some warmth.

"But really, Holmes, surely you could have been more open with me in your little 'social experiment.' I begin to understand how Watson felt when you used to keep him in the dark when on a case. In fact, 'I think that I have deserved better at your hands, Holmes!'"

He snorted, then said more seriously, "Well, I did apologise -- to you and to him. Still, I suppose you are right. I did warn you that I am set in my ways, Russell." He closed the trunk he had been working on, turned to face me and put his hands on my shoulders.

"I shall endeavour to be more communicative -- if you will try to notice when I have something important to say! I hope I shan't always have to knock you to the floor to get your cooperation."

"So do I, Holmes."

He carried the trunk out of the bedroom to the sitting room in readiness for the porters and I noticed that he winced when setting it down near the door. Following him back to the bedroom I said,

"Feeling a little sore, Holmes? I certainly am -- my shoulder aches and I believe I'm going to have quite a bruise on my knee, thank-you very much."

"Russell, your shoulder only troubles you when convenient. Give me a hand with these bags."

FINIS

Acknowledgements:

I would like very sincerely to thank Maer (Mary) a.k.a. 'merely a whim' for her interest, insight and suggestions for improving this story and for the many long and delightful E-mail messages we've exchanged while discussing some aspects of the characters' lives.

I would also like to thank my son Doug for his suggestion (made as we did the rounds of his newspaper route on a dark rainy night) of an important plot element!

Research: (In no particular order)

Jewish wedding traditions --

History of the Rotterdam IV --
http://unofficial.net/hal/rot4.html
A beautiful site to browse and enjoy.

Judo --
JudoInfo.com.
This award-winning site was created by Neil Ohlenkamp and contains everything a pastiche researcher needs to know about the history of modern Judo.

(I have only a thin veneer of understanding of the martial arts, so I apologise to more knowledgeable readers for any glaring errors in this depiction.)

Zen Philosophy and Lao Tzu "Old Master" --

Benito Mussolini and the rise of Fascism --

AltaVista Translator -- which I used to write the Italian. (It has been nearly twenty years since I took 'Italian 100' at university so I apologise if I have got it wrong!)
http://gi.grolier.com/wwii/wwii_mussolini.html
Stein, R.Conrad. Enchantment of the World: Italy. Chicago: Children's Press, 1984 (pp. 69-74).

Italian opera lyrics -- Verdi's Rigoletto
http://www.aria-database.com

Commentary on the Code of Hammurabi --
Charles F. Horne, 1915
http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/ancient/hamcode.html#horne