"Michael Moorcock - An Evening at Home" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moorcock Michael)

outside in the car and might be growing impatient when I felt pressure on the
door handle. My first thought was to hang on to it, hold it tight and resist
any further intrusions. My second was to begin weeping.

My third, as the door opened to admit a glowering Benito Mussolini, was to
fall against the wall with a groan.

"That's awfully good of you," said Captain Goering, in his best English, "I
can't tell you how much I've been in need," and bending forward over the
marble table he put the little silver tube to his nose he inhaled his lines in
a single bovine snort. He seemed to expand to twice his size, threatening to
burst the walls of the room. He sat back in the couch. "I love my wife," he
said. "I love her with all my soul."

Mussolini regarded the scene in disgusted silence.

"Caro!" cried Margherita Sarfatti, rising like a blustering pheasant from
cover. "Caro mio! Thank God you are here!"

I looked for Fiorello. He had disappeared.

Where Fiorello had been standing a moment ago, there was Mussolini, hands on
hips, a look of irritable disapproval on his features, his back pointedly to
the others. He spoke quietly. "Are you ready?"

I saw my keys on the table, next to the line of coke Mandy had cut for me.

"Sorry if I'm breaking anything up," I said casually. "I was looking for my
keys. Ah, there they are! Sorry I have to go. It was nice to meet your
friends, Mandy."

Save for Goering, the others were all staring at the Duce. Ignoring the
uncrowned Queen of Italy, Mussolini turned once to stare thoughtfully at an
obliviously happy Captain Goering before leading the way back to the car in
silence. I heard Margherita's wounded shriek behind us, but she did not come
out.
We got into the car. The Duce shook his head. "What's Margherita doing with
that Hun? I've been trying to keep them apart all week. Did you invite them?"

"Certainly not," I said. "My guess is that, thinking I would be away, she
arranged to see him there. But who knows. She's a strange one. Maybe she can
seduce him. He seems besotted with his wife. He says Mrs Cornelius reminds him
of her. Surely Signora Sarfatti wouldn't attempt --"

"You don't know the half of it," said the Duce. "You want to be careful of
her." An expression passed across his face which, in a lesser human being, I
would have taken for terror.

As we drove towards the Ministry, Mussolini began to lecture me on the dangers
of having anything to do with Germans. "They want to gobble us all up. And as