The James Bond Anthology

‘The year passed and it was time for Masters to go. He announced that Rhoda would stay behind to close the house, and they went through the usual round of farewell parties. We were a bit surprised that she didn’t come to see him off in the ship, but he said she wasn’t feeling well. So that was that until, in a couple of weeks, news of the divorce case began leaking back from England. Then Rhoda Masters turned up at Government House and had a long interview with Lady Burford, and gradually the whole story, including its really terrible next chapter, leaked out.’

The Governor swallowed the last of his whisky. The ice made a hollow rattle as he put the glass softly down. He said: ‘Apparently on the day before Masters left he found a note from his wife in the bathroom. It said that she simply must see him for one last talk before he left her for ever. There had been notes like this before and Masters had always torn them up and left the bits on the shelf above the basin. This time he scribbled a note giving her an appointment in the sitting-room at six o’clock that evening. When the time arrived, Rhoda Masters came meekly in from the kitchen. She had long since given up making emotional scenes or trying to throw herself on his mercy. Now she just quietly stood and said that she had only ten pounds left from that month’s housekeeping money and nothing else in the world. When he left she would be destitute.

‘ “You have the jewels I gave you, and the fur cape.”

‘ “I’d be lucky if I got fifty pounds for them.”

‘ “You’ll have to get some work.”

‘ “It’ll take time to find something. I’ve got to live somewhere. I have to be out of the house in a fortnight. Won’t you give me anything at all? I shall starve.”

‘Masters looked at her dispassionately. “You’re pretty. You’ll never starve.”

‘ “You must help me, Philip. You must. It won’t help your career having me begging at Government House.”

‘Nothing in the house belonged to them except a few odds and ends. They had taken it furnished. The owner had come the week before and agreed the inventory. There only remained their car, a Morris that Masters had bought second hand, and a radio-gramophone he had bought as a last resort to try and keep his wife amused before she took up golf.

‘Philip Masters looked at her for the last time. He was never to see her again. He said: “All right. You can have the car and the radiogram. Now that’s all. I’ve got to pack. Goodbye.” And he walked out of the door and up to his room.’

The Governor looked across at Bond. ‘At least one last little gesture. Yes?’ The Governor smiled grimly. ‘When he had gone and Rhoda Masters was left alone, she took the car and her engagement ring and her few trinkets and the fox fur tippet and went into Hamilton and drove round the pawnbrokers. In the end she collected forty pounds for the jewellery and seven pounds for the bit of fur. Then she went to the car dealers whose name-plate was on the dashboard of the car and asked to see the manager. When she asked how much he would give her for the Morris he thought she was pulling his leg. “But, madam, Mr Masters bought the car by hire-purchase and he’s very badly behind on his payments. Surely he told you that we had to send him a solicitor’s letter about it only a week ago. We heard he was leaving. He wrote back that you would be coming in to make the necessary arrangements. Let me see” – he reached for a file and leafed through it. “Yes, there’s exactly two hundred pounds owing on the car.”

‘Well, of course, Rhoda Masters burst into tears and in the end the manager agreed to take back the car, although it wasn’t worth two hundred pounds by then, but he insisted that she should leave it with him then and there, petrol in the tank and all. Rhoda Masters could only accept and be grateful not to be sued, and she walked out of the garage and along the hot street and already she knew what she was going to find when she got to the radio shop. And she was right. It was the same story, only this time she had to pay ten pounds to persuade the man to take back the radiogram. She got a lift back to within walking distance of the bungalow and went and threw herself down on the bed and cried for the rest of the day. She had already been a beaten woman. Now Philip Masters had kicked her when she was down.’