Page 26 of Fire Must Burn

‘It’s the Crawley translation,’ he said. ‘I prefer it to Jowett’s, plus I can’t afford the Jowett. Ashendene Press put out a limitededition of the Jowett that’s obscenely beautiful and expensive, but the translation’s still the thing, isn’t it?’

‘I can’t believe you didn’t already have a copy.’

‘I did,’ he said. ‘Took it with me to Singapore, lost it in a typhoon.’

‘A typhoon! Goodness! That had better be one of the stories.’

‘Right, let’s get out of here.’

They descended the stairs to the front counter where the clerk had another book waiting for him.

‘Guide to 14 Asiatic Languages,’ she read. ‘How many do you speak now?’

‘Fluent Malay and Mandarin, passable Cantonese and Japanese, and a smattering of Korean,’ he said as the clerk rang up the sale.

‘I’m impressed,’ she said, handing over the Balfour-Browne beetle book. ‘I’m still stuck in Europe. And you’re planning to learn more?’

‘My new post,’ he said. ‘Let’s go find a pub and I’ll tell you all about it.’

They ended up at the Clarence, a small establishment on Dover Street. Tony secured a table, placing his package on the floor beneath his seat.

‘What are you drinking?’ he asked.

‘In your honour, make it a Singapore sling,’ she said.

‘Done, and I’ll have the same. Feeling peckish?’

‘A bit.’

‘I’ve been craving Scotch eggs. They didn’t have those in China. Shall I order a plate to buffer the alcohol?’

‘Please.’

When the drinks came, he held up his glass.

‘To old friends,’ he said.

She smiled and clinked her glass against his, suppressing her internal disgust with herself.

He took a sip and swirled it around in his mouth quizzically, then swallowed.

‘Not at all like the ones at the Raffles,’ he pronounced. ‘It was the first drink one had when one came to Singapore. This one is missing a few ingredients.’

‘Welcome to rationing,’ said Sparks. ‘What’s missing?’

‘Lime,’ he said. ‘And I don’t taste any pineapple.’

‘Sorry, I’ll pick a more conventional drink for the next one. So – typhoon.’

‘Nasty creatures, all of them,’ he said. ‘You talk about rain in England. You have no idea. I spent a foolish amount shipping my books to Singapore, then lost half to the weather and the rest to the Japs.’

‘Were you in Singapore when it fell?’

‘No, thank God. I was travelling in China, and got stuck there after the Japs attacked Malaya. I managed to get to Chungking, reported to the embassy, and asked what I could do to help. They found out I spoke Mandarin, and I spent the rest of the war working out of there.’

‘That must have been brutal,’ she said quietly.

‘I did what was necessary,’ he said, with a shrug that was meant to be casual. ‘I was lucky in hindsight. Had I remained in Singapore, I probably wouldn’t be here drinking with you now.’