Out of the Blackout by Robert Barnard Page B

exterior he seemed unaccountably nervous, and he rubbed his hands together a good deal, perhaps because when he did not theytended to flutter. He greeted Simon with an ingratiating eagerness which, in its effect, was the reverse of welcoming.
    â€˜Ah—you’re the young man. Nice to meet you. Well—that’s very satisfactory!’
    He had closed the door to the family quarters, and when they had shaken hands they stood in the cramped little hallway. Obviously it was not going to be easy to gain admittance to the inner sanctum of the Simmeter family life. The old woman was looking at Len, behaving towards him in a way that Simon found hard to comprehend, as it seemed a compound of opposites—both commanding, yet almost fawning, strong-minded yet nervous and uncertain. Had the relationship changed as she had grown older and feebler? Had she once ruled with an iron hand, and now was uncertain of her power?
    â€˜He wants to pay a deposit,’ said the old woman, looking at Len.
    Len Simmeter’s manner became still more friendly, without the slightest degree of warmth behind it.
    â€˜I don’t see why not, Ma. That’s very generous of him.’
    â€˜Not at all,’ said Simon. ‘I thought that if Mr Blore did give notice in the next three months, then I’d have the right to the room.’
    â€˜And so you would,’ said Len. ‘Quite so. And we’d return it to you if he stayed put. Naturally. Very fair arrangement all round. You told him the rent for the room, Mother?’
    â€˜No, I didn’t.’ Again she looked at him, covertly, uncertain whether she had done right or wrong. She seemed to have done right.
    â€˜Well,’ said Len Simmeter, rubbing his hands, ‘it’s four pounds ten a week—’ It was, for those times, decidedly steep. But Len had left his voice on a rising intonation, so that if Simon protested he could add: ‘but for you we’ll say four pounds.’ However, Simon had made up his mind, and he quickly accepted.
    â€˜That seems very reasonable,’ he said, with a naive smile. ‘I know that things down here cost that bit more than they do up north.’
    â€˜Quite. You’ve no idea—what with the rates, and overheads, and everything. This lot we’ve got lording it at the LCC at the moment don’t help matters either. What they’re not willing to do with other people’s money! You’re like pigs in clover up north, so I’veheard, where prices are concerned!’ He was protesting too much, and he pulled himself up short. ‘Moving south, eh? Got a good job down here, then, have you?’
    â€˜I’m going to be working at the London Zoo. On the scientific staff there.’
    â€˜Nice! Very good! Work with a bit of class—professional, like. Well, young feller-me-lad, if you’d like to leave your name and address, and this deposit you mentioned, we can be in touch as soon as things sort themselves out at this end.’
    Simon tore a piece of paper from his pocket book, and wrote on it against the wall his name, address, and telephone number. He registered with satisfaction that the name seemed to mean nothing to Len either. Then he took from his wallet two five-pound notes. Len Simmeter, who had been standing by rubbing his hands, took them from him, just a shade too hurriedly.
    â€˜That’s handsome of you,’ he said. ‘Nice to do business with a real gentleman. I really hope something turns up here. There’s Miss Cosgrove in the other room, of course, but there’s no hope that she’ll move on. Made herself very comfortable here, she has— oh yes! But I think you’ll find a room waiting for you, when you want to move down. When was it, did you say?’
    â€˜June,’ said Simon. ‘I imagine it’ll be towards the end of June.’
    â€˜Good, good,’ said the man, opening the door to show that the interview