The Assassination of Margaret Thatcher. Hilary Mantel
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Название: The Assassination of Margaret Thatcher
Автор: Hilary Mantel
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Историческая литература
isbn: 9780007580989
isbn:
Fourth Estate
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers
1 London Bridge Street,
London SE1 9GF, UK
First published in Great Britain by Fourth Estate 2014
Copyright © Tertius Enterprises 2014, 2015
Hilary Mantel asserts her moral right to
be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record of this book is
available from the British Library
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Source ISBN: 9780007580972
Ebook Edition © September 2014 ISBN: 9780007580989
Version: 2019-06-10
To Bill Hamilton, the man in William IV Street: thirty years on, with gratitude
Contents
The Heart Fails Without Warning
The Assassination of Margaret Thatcher: August 6th 1983
In those days, the doorbell didn’t ring often, and if it did I would draw back into the body of the house. Only at a persistent ring would I creep over the carpets, and make my way to the front door with its spy-hole. We were big on bolts and shutters, deadlocks and mortises, safety-chains and windows that were high and barred. Through the spy-hole I saw a distraught man in a crumpled, silver-grey suit: thirties, Asian. He had dropped back from the door, and was looking about him, at the closed and locked door opposite, and up the dusty marble stairs. He patted his pockets, took out a balled-up handkerchief, and rubbed it across his face. He looked so fraught that his sweat could have been tears. I opened the door.
At once he raised his hands as if to show he was unarmed, his handkerchief dropping like a white flag. ‘Madam!’ Ghastly pale I must have looked, under the light that dappled the tiled walls with swinging shadows. But then he took a breath, tugged at his creased jacket, ran a hand through his hair and conjured up his business card. ‘Muhammad Ijaz. Import-Export. I am so sorry to disturb your afternoon. I am totally lost. Would you permit use of your telephone?’
I stood aside to let him in. No doubt I smiled. Given what would ensue, I must suppose I did. ‘Of course. If it’s working today.’
I walked ahead and he followed, talking; an important deal, he had almost closed it, visit to client in person necessary, time – he worked up his sleeve and consulted a fake Rolex – time running out; he had the address – again he patted his pockets – but the office is not where it should be. He spoke into the telephone in rapid Arabic, fluent, aggressive, his eyebrows shooting up, finally shaking his head; he put down the receiver, looked at it in regret; then up at me, with a sour smile. Weak mouth, I thought. Almost a handsome man, but not: slim, sallow, easily thrown. ‘I am in your debt, madam,’ he said. ‘Now I must dash.’
I wanted to offer him a what – bathroom break? Comfort stop? I had no idea how to phrase it. The absurd words ‘wash and brush-up’ came into my mind. But he was already heading for the door – though from the way the call had concluded I thought they might not be so keen to see СКАЧАТЬ