gates. Smith nipping head up. Five security guards forcing the great black spokes and curlicues on the whining hinges back against the group of gazeteers. Flash bulbs popping. Shouts of outrage. Freedom of the press. Who does that guy think he is. Somebody.
Miss Martin scared. Biting her lips. Looking to George Smith crawling back to the seat on hands and knees. One green file of papers spilling out. This whole manoeuvre is a disgrace.
"Mr. Smith if my mother sees my picture."
"Be quiet."
"I will not, why didn't you let me get on the floor too."
"Can't have an empty car go through."
"They knew it was you all the time, what does it matter."
"I do not want my replica in the papers."
"You bastard."
"I beg your pardon Miss Martin. What did you say."
"You heard me."
All I need. For Miss Martin to go agley on me. Pout, stamp and generally upstage my authority. When they learn about your inner life, wham they take liberties with the outer. Until one is driven to putting on the stone face with creases downturned around the eyes and mouth. Scowl. Miss Martin's calf. Had no idea that little muscle was so nicely turned. Nicely contrasted against the car seat.
Momentarily the black car stopping at the Renown Cemetery office. A gentleman darkly clothed coming down the steps and climbing into Smith's car. Which pulls away leaving behind the big gate and the pushers on either side, as it stands shut, tall and iron between them. Thanks be to metal.
"Miss Martin this is Mr. Noble. My secretary Miss Martin. Now Mr. Noble."
"It's beyond my comprehension how this has happened Mr. Smith. Every precaution has been taken since work began. As you know we have so many contracts but we made every effort to avoid anything unseemly."
"We can only but pick up the pieces now, Mr. Noble. It's put me in rather an embarrassing position. But silence is the only answer at this stage."
"There's been this woman in black, Mr. Smith."
"I've heard."
"We just don't know if there's any connection. I mean to say Mr. Smith the cemetery management want to extend every apology and assure you that no one except our Mr. Browning knew the situation. And he, of course, is above suspicion. Will you have a cigar."
"Thank you Mr. Noble."
"May I use your telephone, Mr. Smith."
"By all means do."
"I'll get in touch with the North Gate and make sure the way is clear. Anyway Mr. Smith we've screened in the site. Like to cruise by."
Under the budding trees. The lilting tips of green. The little shrubberies. Marble steps, pillars, stones. Stained glass in spring sunlight. Wheels humming on the pebbled drives. Smith giving signals through to the driver. A gauze screen standing high and white shaking in the breeze.
"I'm glad you've done that, Mr. Noble."
"We thought it would take care of any more snoopers Mr. Smith."
Along the main avenue of Renown Cemetery and down a winding hill. An iron fence on top of a high stone wall. And beyond, the train tracks, a park and small river. Tall old elm trees. Magnolia all ready for the blossom and bud. Car slowing and stopping just past a building set in the side of a hill with two long canopies extending out to the road. Uniformed guards saluting Mr. Noble stepping out of the car. Bending over to say parting words to George Smith.
"And just for the record, Mr. Smith, on behalf of the corporation, management and myself, I extend our most sincere apologies for what has happened. You go off now Mr. Smith and forget about any more trouble with this."
"Thank you Mr. Noble. I appreciate it."
"The way is clear. Reporters think you're leaving by the West Gate Mr. Smith."
"Ah God."
"Never mind Mr. Smith everything's going to be all right."
"One parting word, Mr. Noble, hardly know how to put this, but if someone should come along, I know this sounds crazy, but should someone take up position near my site playing music on a piece of paper pressed against a comb, just ignore them."
"I'll pass that on, Mr. Smith. Anything at all. Like that cigar, did you."
"Marvelous, Mr. Noble. Bye bye, now."
"Best of good luck to you, Mr. Smith."
Gasoline station. Smith's car stopping to get filled. The windows wiped and polished. Smith sitting, one hand resting flat on the seat. And in the silence. On top of that hand, came the hand of Miss Martin. Pressing down on Smith's own flesh. Stirring his mind. Closing up the ears. Choking up the heart.