Corduroy Mansions cm-1
Page 36
‘The pepper’s so important,’ said Marcia. ‘The stuff you buy in supermarkets is dreadful - ancient old stuff that tastes like cardboard. Fresh pepper should smell green - it should prickle the nose.’
‘I love pepper,’ said James. ‘It’s so peppery. Gorgeous.’
Marcia considered this. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘Have another tartlet.’ She decided that she rather liked James. But was Caroline his type?
Jenny talked to Basil Wickramsinghe, reminding him of their meeting in Daylesford Organic the previous week. ‘There was the tea lady,’ she said, ‘with her lovely rare teas. Remember? You bought some.’
‘I did,’ said Basil, smiling. ‘I bought some of her white tea. I love that. We produce white tea in Sri Lanka, you know. The tips of the buds. It’s very delicate.’
Marcia arrived at their side and joined in the conversation. She had not yet met Basil Wickramsinghe but had been admiring his blazer from the other side of the room. Such a handsome man, she thought, and after their introduction she went on to think, what charming manners. Was he single? she wondered. A few questions, neatly posed, revealed that he was. And he was an Anglican too - that came up in the conversation. Could he recommend a suitable church nearby? Somewhere reasonably High? Of course he could. He smiled - such an engaging smile, thought Marcia. Would she care to accompany him sometime - he could introduce her to the vicar? She would, gladly. And at this point Marcia - quite subtly, but clearly enough - let it be known that she and William were just flatmates.
More champagne was produced and poured. Since it was early evening there was still a lot of light outside, and the now tired sun, a great red ball, was setting over the rooftops. It is all very beautiful, thought William.
Freddie de la Hay, who had greeted each guest in the hall, nosing at their shoes and ankles in a friendly fashion, now came through to the drawing room and looked about him at the human guests. He was a dog with a sense of occasion and he was carrying himself with confidence and ease. Here and there, a guest would slip him a morsel, which he received with proper gratitude. James gave him an entire quail’s egg tartlet; Jenny gave him a cheese straw followed by a biscuit with pâté; and Dee gave him asparagus and a small lettuce leaf.
Then Eddie arrived. William opened the door to his son and was, for a moment, unable to say anything.
‘Party, Dad?’
‘Just a few people from the building. Nothing big.’
Eddie smiled - an unexpected smile. ‘That’s great. Nice to see you enjoying yourself.’
William looked for sarcasm but there was none. Eddie meant it.
‘Come and join us, Eddie,’ he said.
Eddie followed his father into the drawing room. There he saw Marcia, who paled on seeing him but recovered her colour when she received a friendly wave from the young man.
‘You seem very cheerful, Eddie,’ said William as he handed his son a glass of champagne.
‘Yup,’ said Eddie.
‘May I ask why?’ William ventured.
‘Met a really nice woman, Dad,’ said Eddie. ‘She lives not far away actually. Got her own place.’
‘Very nice,’ said William.
‘And a place in the Windward Islands,’ Eddie went on. ‘It’s all a bit sudden but we’ve decided we’re going to spend six months there and six months here each year.’
William’s eyes widened. He would have enquired further about that but there was another question he had to ask: ‘Eddie, there was a painting in the wardrobe. We found it.’
Eddie shrugged. ‘Nothing to do with me. I didn’t have any paintings.’ He paused. ‘No, hold on. There was a painting I won in the pub. Yes. I was going to throw it out. Funny thing. Some naked guy and a woman. Oh yes, and a snake. Peculiar. Did you get rid of it?’
William looked down at Freddie de la Hay-Poussin, who met his gaze innocently.
The party was now warming up. They would have more to eat - the main course that Marcia had so lovingly prepared - but they would not have it just yet. For the moment, William felt that he wanted to say something. Earlier that day, in anticipation of this occasion, he had written something on a piece of paper, and now he took it out and cleared his throat.
Dear friends, now in London,
Here and there, in their various forms
Of isolation or companionship,
People begin a journey into night;
Happy they go to bed, or sad -
The choice to a very great extent
Is theirs. Happiness is a state
Which few can define -
I shall not try - but even those
Who never attempt a definition
Know from experience
That happiness flows most readily
From friendship, from the company
Of those we would rather not
Be without: a double negative
Is a way of saying that which
You really believe;
And I believe that, I really do.
Friendship is a guise of love,
And love is friendship
Dressed up for a night out.
That we are together, here at this moment,
Alive, one with another,
Is the most delicious treat;
I, for one, ask for no more,
I, for one, am replete.
After he spoke there was silence. They looked at one another, uncertain as to how anything could be added to what had been said. Marcia stepped forward, took William’s hand, and held it.
FB2 document info
Document ID: 111ee2ed-8a5b-4618-a55b-18c64eff3d9e
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 02 October 2010
Created using: calibre - 0.7.19, FictionBook Editor 2.4 software
Document authors :
About
This file was generated by Lord KiRon's FB2EPUB converter version 1.1.5.0.
(This book might contain copyrighted material, author of the converter bears no responsibility for it's usage)
Этот файл создан при помощи конвертера FB2EPUB версии 1.1.5.0 написанного Lord KiRon.
(Эта книга может содержать материал который защищен авторским правом, автор конвертера не несет ответственности за его использование)
http://www.fb2epub.net
https://code.google.com/p/fb2epub/