At the Reunion Buffet by Alexander McCall Smith Read Free Book Online Page A

perfect cover for the nonconformist, the rebel, the spy.
    The serving of the buffet supper changed the tone of the occasion. The high volume catch-ups over sparkling wine and canapés were replaced by more reflective conversation between smaller groups. People gravitated to old friends and talked together quietly, plates of food from the buffet balanced on knees. There was plenty of room to sit down, Isabel having borrowed extra chairs from the bedrooms and from neighbors. Jamie appeared for the meal, and was lionized by a number of the guests.
    “So!” whispered one to Isabel,“you’re the dark horse, Isabel Dalhousie!
Where
did you find him?”
    Isabel laughed. “I met him through my niece,” she said. She did not mention that Jamie had been Cat’s boyfriend—discarded, of course, as all of Cat’s boyfriends were; people would have enough to gossip about without adding that titbit.
    “Lucky you,” said the guest.
    There were speeches, one from Eleanor that went on for twenty-three minutes—Isabel timed it—and a shorter one from Margaret, the other organizer. Eleanor was nostalgic, mentioning each of their teachers some of whom would join them for the lunch at the museum restaurant the following day. Every one of the teachers was described as “an inspiration,” with a favored few being “both an inspiration and a pillar.” Isabel stared at the ceiling: What had happened to Lot’s wife? Was she not turned into a pillar of salt? Imagine her class reunion:
So sad that Lot’s wife isn’t with us today, but she’s been turned into a pillar of salt, as you may have heard. So sad.
    The evening came to an end shortly after eleven. Taxis had been called in advance, and they were waiting. Isabel said goodbye to the last of the guests and spoke briefly to the caterers, who were still clearing up in the kitchen.
    “Well, everybody enjoyed themselves?” said the young New Zealander.
    Isabel decided this was a question. “I think so.”
    “No disagreements?”
    She looked at him, and laughed. “Is that what you expect at reunions?”
    “Yes, it is?” He took off his apron and folded it up. “We did one the other day where the host hit somebody? Mind you, that was at a rugby club and you get that sort of thing?”
    “Rugby is very physical,” said Isabel.
    “It is?”
    Once the caterers had gone and Isabel had locked up downstairs, she went up to the bedroom. Jamie was already in bed, but was still awake.
    “Well done,” he said. “Round one over successfully. Nobody floored. And the umpire didn’t stop the match.”
    She got undressed and slipped into bed beside him. “Thanks for being there,” she said.
    “I enjoyed it.”
    “They enjoyed having you.” She snuggled up beside him. “Who did you talk to—I wasn’t watching.”
    “Just about everybody,” he said. “At one stage or another.”
    “Eleanor?”
    “Yes. And her sidekick.”
    “Margaret.”
    “Yes. She went on a bit about the Lyceum Theatre. She’s on the board—or was. I heard all about that—for ages.”
    “Thanks for putting up with it,” said Isabel.
    They lay still, and quiet, for a few moments. She heard his breathing. Then he said, “And Claire.”
    Isabel listened.
    Jamie moved slightly. “She’s…”
    “Yes?”
    “She’s a bit…Well…”
    Isabel caught her breath. “You picked that up?”
    “I didn’t say anything.”
    Isabel gasped. “What did she do? Made a move on you?”
    “Not quite. No, when we were speaking she kept getting closer and closer. I had to take small steps backwards or…or we could have collided.”
    Isabel reached out and took his hand under the sheet. “Oh, darling, that’s what she’s like. She was the man-eater—or boy-eater, I suppose, in those days. I thought she’d changed.”
    “I don’t think she has.”
    Isabel squeezed his hand. “Thanks for being so kind.”
    “I don’t have to come to the lunch tomorrow, do I?”
    Isabel said that he did not. He anyhow was in