Bailey's deceptively simple, very English, story about two ancient soldiers who meet up in an inhospitable London explores contrasting forms of loneliness and self deception. First published in 1980, and set at that time, it has the feel of more distant time and its brisk tone is far closer to a 1950s British film. Still, this is not a weakness; Bailey, most recently Booker-shortlisted for Gabriel's Lament in 1986, looks at his characters warts and all, with a kindliness that never quite dissolves into sentimentality. One of the old men mourns his dead wife while remaining an outsider disapproving of the big city. The other, a more superficially colourful individual with a shaky grasp of reality, is also grieving - though not for an individual. His dead is a long-lost sense of honour. The characterisation is deft enough, and the tension between the two sufficiently vivid, yet this novel never fully convinces and the overall effect is of a morality play. At times there are faint echoes of William Trevor. Old Soldiers does, however, represent the always competent Bailey at his best. Depending on your mood, this small novel will either move you deeply, or merely leave you pondering death-in-life. Still, that's no mean feat in itself.
