The Remains of the Day - By Kazuo Ishiguro Page 0,37
me that an outdoor setting, with the general proximity of nature, and in particular the example of the geese close at hand, would not be an unsuitable setting at all in which to convey the sort of message I was bearing. I could see, moreover, that if I were quickly to go outside and conceal my person behind the large rhododendron bush beside the path, it would not be long before Mr Cardinal came by. I would then be able to emerge and convey my message to him. It was not, admittedly, the most subtle of strategies, but you will appreciate that this particular task, though no doubt important in its way, hardly took the highest priority at that moment.
There was a light frost covering the ground and much of the foliage, but it was a mild day for that time of the year. I crossed the grass quickly, placed my person behind the bush, and before long heard Mr Cardinal’s footsteps approaching. Unfortunately, I misjudged slightly the timing of my emergence. I had intended to emerge while Mr Cardinal was still a reasonable distance away, so that he would see me in good time and suppose I was on my way to the summerhouse, or perhaps to the gardener’s lodge. I could then have pretended to notice him for the first time and have engaged him in conversation in an impromptu manner. As it happened, I emerged a little late and I fear I rather startled the young gentleman, who immediately pulled his attaché case away from me and clutched it to his chest with both arms.
‘I’m very sorry, sir.’
‘My goodness, Stevens. You gave me a shock. I thought things were hotting up a bit there.’
‘I’m very sorry, sir. But as it happens, I have something to convey to you.’
‘My goodness, yes, you gave me quite a fright.’
‘If I may come straight to the point, sir. You will notice the geese not far from us.’
‘Geese?’ He looked around a little bewildered. ‘Oh yes. That’s what they are.’
‘And likewise the flowers and shrubs. This is not, in fact, the best time of year to see them in their full glory, but you will appreciate, sir, that with the arrival of spring, we will see a change – a very special sort of change – in these surroundings.’
‘Yes, I’m sure the grounds are not at their best just now. But to be perfectly frank, Stevens, I wasn’t paying much attention to the glories of nature. It’s all rather worrying. That M. Dupont’s arrived in the foulest mood imaginable. Last thing we wanted really.’
‘M. Dupont has arrived here at this house, sir?’
‘About half an hour ago. He’s in the most foul temper.’
‘Excuse me, sir. I must attend to him straight away.’
‘Of course, Stevens. Well, kind of you to have come out to talk to me.’
‘Please excuse me, sir. As it happened, I had a word or two more to say on the topic of – as you put it yourself – the glories of nature. If you will indulge me by listening, I would be most grateful. But I am afraid this will have to wait for another occasion.’
‘Well, I shall look forward to it, Stevens. Though I’m more of a fish man myself. I know all about fish, fresh water and salt.’
‘All living creatures will be relevant to our forthcoming discussion, sir. However, you must now please excuse me. I had no idea M. Dupont had arrived.’
I hurried back to the house to be met immediately by the first footman saying: ‘We’ve been looking all over for you, sir. The French gentleman’s arrived.’
M. Dupont was a tall, elegant gentleman with a grey beard and a monocle. He had arrived in the sort of clothes one often sees continental gentlemen wearing on their holidays, and indeed, throughout his stay, he was to maintain diligently the appearance of having come to Darlington Hall entirely for pleasure and friendship. As Mr Cardinal had indicated, M. Dupont had not arrived in a good temper; I cannot recall now all the various things that had upset him since his arrival in England a few days previously, but in particular he had obtained some painful sores on his feet while sightseeing around London and these, he feared, were growing septic. I referred his valet to Miss Kenton, but this did not prevent M. Dupont snapping his fingers at me every few hours to say: ‘Butler! I am in need of more bandages.’