Goodbye Mickey Mouse

‘Man can’t escape his fate, Farebrother.’

‘How’s that?’ said Farebrother, puzzled by the tone of Madigan’s voice.

‘Man can’t escape his fate,’ said Madigan. He was smiling, but in his eyes there was a look that told Farebrother that this was the kind of joke that isn’t a joke. ‘Isn’t that what Mozart is saying in Don Giovanni? Every one of us is trying to be some other kind of person—your pal Morse, for instance—in fact, half the guys who joined the Army just wanted to escape from themselves.’

‘What have you got against MM?’

‘Aw, he’s just a pain in the ass, Jamie.’ He put the record on the turntable but didn’t start the music. ‘Each new officer who checks in, I give him a questionnaire so I get parents’ names and addresses and details of any relatives who work in newspapers or radio. It also has spaces marked “Education”, “Hobbies” and “Civilian occupation”. You know, you filled one out. It’s only so I can use it for publicity. Morse fills his out to say he’s got a degree in engineering from Arizona State. You’ve only got to talk to the guy to know he never finished college…’

‘He knows a lot about engines.’

‘Sure. His folks have a filling station.’

‘Okay, but…’

‘I don’t give a damn about where he went to college. I’m no kind of snob, Farebrother. A girl helped to pay my way through college…a woman she was, really, married and all. Ten years older than me. We ran away to New York and lived in a tenement on Tenth Street on her alimony while I got my degree in English at NYU.’ He rubbed his face. ‘I paid her the money back eventually, but I guess she thought we were going to get married and live happily ever after.’

‘So you suspect MM didn’t finish college, so what?’

‘So why the hell can’t he say so? And if he tells lies about that, why does he get mad when the Intelligence Officers question his claims?’

‘Now wait a minute, Vince. The board decides claims on the basis of the film he brings back.’

Madigan put up both hands in a placatory gesture and changed the nature of his complaints. ‘I take a cockpit photo of every new pilot, right? I send a glossy to his hometown paper and a release to anyone who might be remotely interested. I did that with you last week—my sergeant already sent a pile of junk off. In a few weeks’ time one of your friends or neighbours, or your folks, will send you some cuttings. You’ll show them around, and before you’ve got them back in the envelope MM will be in my office asking why you’re getting the publicity and he isn’t. Can’t you see how that pisses me off?’

‘Take it easy, Vince.’

Madigan gave the record a flick of his cloth and checked the needle for dust. ‘Morse is a Mozartian character,’ he said while bending down to look along the surface of the record. ‘Running away from himself, searching for something he can’t even describe.’

‘Let’s hear more of The Abduction, Vince.’

For the first time Madigan heard a note of annoyance in his roommate’s voice. He should have known better than to talk about Morse; these pilots always stuck together against the rest of the officers. He smiled and read the label again. ‘Listen to the way Constanze’s recitative builds up to the word Traurigkeit and Mozart goes into a minor key to change the mood. To me, this is one of the most moving arias in opera. It’s wonderful!’

‘How did you learn so much about opera, Vince?’

Madigan folded his arms and looked up at the ceiling as he thought about it. ‘My first newspaper job after leaving college, they sent me to interview this girl who’d won a scholarship to Juilliard. She was a wonderful girl, Jamie.’ Madigan turned on the music and sat down to listen, eyes closed.

Farebrother went back to reading his papers and for almost another hour Madigan played his records, sorted through his newly assembled possessions, and said hardly anything. Farebrother decided he was deeply offended, but eventually Madigan’s spirits revived enough for him to say, ‘I’ve just had a thought, old buddy. How’s about this one for you?’ He was wearing his glasses and holding up a photo for Farebrother to look at. ‘A tall brunette with big tits, gets drunk on lemonade.’

‘You don’t owe me anything, Vince.’

‘Very loving, Jamie. Very passionate.’ He looked at the photo to help him remember her. ‘Unattached; no husband or boyfriends to worry about.’

Farebrother turned the page in the P-51 handbook to find that ‘Ditching Procedure’ was headed with the warning that the aircraft could be expected to sink in ‘approximately two seconds’, and shook his head.

‘What about her for your pal, the banana boat captain?’

‘Charlie would like her, yes.’

‘I invited the PX officer too. Is that okay with you? See, we’ll need the liquor and candy and cigarettes.’

‘It’s not my party, Vince.’

‘Our party, sure. You don’t have to do a thing except be there.’ He put the record away in its proper sleeve. ‘I invited Colonel Dan too, just out of politeness, but I don’t imagine he’ll turn up.’

‘How many people are you expecting?’

‘I should have kept a list.’

‘Maybe I’ll volunteer for OD.’

‘Don’t be like that,’ said Madigan. ‘This is going to be the greatest party of all time.’ He slid the record into the carrying case in which he stored his recordings. ‘Victoria Cooper!’ he said suddenly, and snapped his fingers in the air. ‘Intellectual, Jamie. Very English, very upper-class. Dark hair and a beautiful face. Exactly your type—tall and a wonderful figure. Victoria! You’ll be crazy about her.’

‘Is she another one of your sentimental indiscretions?’

‘I’ve hardly said a word to her, she’s a friend of Vera’s. I told you about Vera, didn’t I?’

‘Take it easy, Vince,’ said Farebrother nervously.

‘You could be the first person there, Jamie. Victoria Cooper—I’m sure Vera could swing a double date for us.’

‘Knock it off, Vince, will you? I go along with the opera and all that, but stay out of my private life, huh?’

‘You said there were no women in your life…What do you mean, you “go along” with the opera? You’re not telling me you don’t like Mozart?’

‘I can take him or leave him, Vince. I’ve always been a Dorsey fan myself.’

‘That’s dance music.’ Madigan’s mouth dropped open and he seemed truly shaken. ‘Christ, I thought at last I’d found a real pal in this dump, a guy I could talk to.’

‘Only kidding, Vince.’

Madigan recovered from his state of shock. ‘Jesus, I thought you were serious for a minute.’ He smiled to show his perfect teeth. ‘You wait until you see this Victoria Cooper…and she’ll go for you too. She lives with her parents, that’s why I’m not interested.’ He took off his glasses and put them into a leather case. ‘My dad practically threw me out of the house because of my girlfriends. Mom never seemed to mind. It’s funny that women never seem to mind their sons tomcatting around. It’s almost like they get some kind of kick out of it.’

7 Victoria Cooper (#ulink_2664e8bc-6e67-5505-8b4b-3caaa4dc15a3)

Victoria was private secretary to a newspaper owner. The newspaper was a local one, appeared only once a week and, since newsprint was scarce and rationed, consisted of only eight pages, but she enjoyed this job that gave her access to the teleprinter news and the excitement of meeting men who’d come from far-distant battlefronts. She was updating the wall map when Vera came in. ‘American forces, supported by Australian warships, have secured a firm beachhead on the south coast of New Britain.’ She found an appropriate stretch of Pacific coastline and inserted a pin.

‘I’ve brought your tea, Miss Cooper.’

‘That’s kind of you, Vera.’ Her visitor was a small vivacious woman with short curly hair dyed blonde. She was no longer a girl and yet her freckles and snub nose gave her a youthful tom-boy look that appealed to men, if the reaction of the office staff was anything to judge by.

‘I had to come upstairs anyway.’ Vera brandished a handful of press photos before dropping them into the tray on the desk, rearranging some papers there to make a reason for delay. ‘A friend of mine has been lent a wonderful flat for Christmas. It’s in Jesus Lane. You should see it—central heating, carpets, and little table lights everywhere. It’s the sort of place you see in films…romantic, you know.’

‘Lucky you, Vera.’

‘He’s an American, a captain. Drink your tea, Miss Cooper. Captain Vincent Madigan, Vince I call him. He’s tall and strong and very handsome. He looks like Pat O’Brien, the film star…and talks like him too.’

‘It sounds as if you’re smitten.’