The Malcontents by C.P. Snow

The mood wasn't broken, but jagged into, by a patch of house logistics. Mark had offered to ‘organize' supper. That seemed matter-of-fact and easy: it would have been so at Thomas Freer's. But this wasn't Thomas Freer's. In his father's absence, Mark was supposed to be looked after by a housekeeper and a maid. He was at his most spontaneous and most tender with them, he talked to them, listened to their worries, ferried them into the town. They were fond of him, called him by his Christian name, and did as little for him as they could. Each vacation, he lived as though he were camping out in this big house. That evening, both housekeeper and maid came into the drawing-room and argued as a matter of right that there was no food at all. Mark was patient and apologetic. There must be some food, it didn't matter what it was. At last, with the same air of righteousness, a tin of corned beef was produced, a loaf, a hunk of cheese, and a little butter. Mark gave grateful thanks. He went away himself, and managed to discover a couple of bottles of claret. That they drank along with their corned beef, apart from Sylvia, who pointed to the gin bottle and said she would stick to this. None of them realized that the wine was splendid. None of them – interruption aside – had found anything specially absurd in the domestic scene. Even Sylvia, not so egalitarian by principle as they were, used to a well-run house, though not one as wealthy as this, was a child of her time as much as they were, and wasn't comfortable about having servants, much less about disbelieving them.

In the midst of the housekeeper being explanatory and patronizing, the maid confiding to Mark that she had too much to do, the picnic being finally served on Wedgwood plates which Mark carried in, a new suspicion had been half-formed, without shape, one of the phantoms that was going through their minds. Bernard had been the traitor. That was stark, they took it now as though they had known it for a long time. Did that mean that someone else had known or guessed? And had doctored his drink as some sort of indication, warning or sign? Had it been more than a piece of party foolishness, drunk or drugged? Was there a meaning to it?