Cambridge Spies short

[Guest]

This was going to be a drabble because I couldn't resist writing after recently watching Cambridge Spies, a TV drama from 2003 about four men from Cambridge University in the 1930s who became Russian spies during World War II. It’s really brilliant, and the four of them are just the most wonderfully stiff-upper-lip, Eton-and-Cambridge, English characters you could imagine, and it just seemed perfect.

But then it got a bit long, so I thought I'd leave it here instead of/as well as on my drabble thread. If a mod would rather it just went there, just let me know.

To give some background and visual aids, the main characters were:

Anthony Blunt, played by Samuel West. A little older than the others, always well-dressed, very prim and proper, very upper class, gay.

Guy Burgess, played by Tom Hollander. Angry, opinionated, gay, hot-headed, drank far, far too much and got into lots of trouble.

Kim Philby and Donald MacLean, played by Toby Stephens and Rupert Penry-Jones. Idealistic, brave, loyal, straight.

From left to right: Anthony Blunt, Guy Burgess, Donald MacLean and Kim Philby. Tell me you don’t want to torture Blunt.

Anyway, here it is:

February 19^th, and it had been pouring with rain for three days straight. MacLean, Philby, Blunt and Burgess sat holed up in the house that Blunt and Burgess shared with Guy’s on-off boyfriend Jack Hewit, trying to avoid cabin fever with furious drinking, smoking, and reading. Anthony Blunt was under the weather, leaving him touchy and self-conscious, shivering next to the gas fire which was their only reliable source of heat. No one spoke, the only sounds the rain against the windows, the occasional rustling of Donald’s newspaper, and in the background an off-key whistling as Jack cleared up in the kitchen. And, of course, the clink of ice in Guy Burgess’s drink.

“Huh’ASHhoo!” Sniff. Clink. Rustle. Sniff. The tick of the clock on the mantelpiece. Jack clattering plates in the next room. Anthony fumbled for a handkerchief with one hand, holding the page of his book open primly with his other. He turned aside, holding the cloth up as he sneezed again.

“H’UUSSHoo!” Pause. “Huh’HUSHoo!” He blew his nose as quietly as he could, fiercely keeping his gaze fixed on his book, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Rustle. Sniff. Rustle. Sniff. Sniff. Clink. Sniff.

“God, could you just stop?!” Guy exploded, slamming his glass down on the table and glaring around. Anthony coloured, aggrieved.

“I have a cold,” he protested, voice thick with it. “And I feel wretched, thank you so much for asking.” Everyone avoided each other’s eyes. Kim Philby lit yet another cigarette.

“Oh, fuck your cold. Let’s go out somewhere, let’s go dancing, let’s get smashed, get in a fight, anything. I can’t stand being cooped up here any longer.”

“If you want to go, Guy, no one’s stopping you,” Kim pointed out. Guy didn’t move.

Tick. Tick. Sniff. Guy sighed irritably. Anthony turned a page. Sniff. Rustle. The rain poured down. Sniff. Guy sighed again and drained his glass. Anthony raised his handkerchief, eyes unfocused, mouth falling slightly open.

“H’USSHOO!” He dabbed at his nose with the handkerchief, sniffing, eyes fixed once more on his book.

“AAARGH!” In mock fury and real frustration, Guy grabbed his glass, blundered over to the drinks table and poured another. Anthony blushed further, watching Guy from beneath heavy blond eyelashes. Guy continued to make his drink with maximum noise and angry gestures. Peevishly Anthony snapped closed his book and stood up.

“You can be a real shit, you know, Guy,” he opined, thickly, before vanishing into his room.

A few minutes later there was a knock on Anthony’s door.

“What now?” But it was only Jack, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“Brought you a cup o’ tea.”

Anthony sat up on his bed, chastened. “Thank you,” he murmured, inclining his head. Jack brought it in. As he took it, Anthony let their hands touch for just a moment longer than necessary. Jack didn’t pull away. As the door closed behind him, Anthony took a sip, smiling. Perhaps today wasn’t as miserable as he’d thought.

Edited May 28, 2016 by Katrelle