Kazuo Ishiguro by When We Were Orphans (txt) Read Free Book Online

from me and glanced around the walled garden. ‘Which reminds me.’ she said. ‘Well, to be honest, it doesn’t remind me at all. Why should I pretend? I’ve been thinking of it all the time we’ve been talking. I wanted to ask a favour of you.’
    ‘And what’s that, Miss Hemmings?’
    ‘Reliable sources tell me you’ve been invited to this year’s Meredith Foundation dinner. Is that right?’
    I paused slightly before replying: ‘Yes. That’s correct.’
    ‘Quite a thing, to be invited at your age. I’ve heard this year it’s in honour of Sir Cecil Medhurst.’
    ‘Yes, I believe so.’
    ‘I’ve heard too that Charles Wolfe is expected to attend.’
    “The violinist?’
    She laughed brightly. ‘Does he do something else? And Thomas Byron too, apparently.’
    She had become visibly excited, but now she once again turned away and gazed at our surroundings with a slight shudder.
    ‘Did you say,’ I asked eventually, ‘you wished me to grant you a favour?’
    ‘Oh yes, yes. I wanted you to… I wished you to ask me to accompany you. To the Meredith Foundation dinner.’
    She was now holding me with an intense look. It took me a moment to find a response, but when I did so, I spoke quite calmly.
    ‘I’d like to oblige you. Miss Hemmings. But unfortunately I’ve already replied to the organisers some days ago. I fear it’ll be rather late to inform them of my wish to bring a guest…’
    ‘Nonsense!’ she broke in angrily. ‘Yours is the name on everyone’s lips just now. If you wish to bring a companion, they’d be only too pleased. Mr Banks, you aren’t about to let me down, are you? That would be quite unworthy of you. After all, we’ve been good friends for some tune now.’
    It was this last remark - reminding me as it did of the actual history of our ‘friendship’ - that brought me back to myself.
    ‘Miss Hemmings,’ I said with finality, ‘this is hardly a favour within my power to grant.’
    But there was now a determined look in Sarah Hemmings’s eyes.
    ‘I know all the details, Mr Banks. At Claridge’s Hotel. Next Wednesday evening. I mean to be there. I shall look forward to the evening, and I shall be waiting for you in the lobby.’
    “The lobby of Claridge’s is, as far as I’m aware, open to respectable members of the public. If you choose to stand there next Wednesday evening, there is nothing I can do to prevent you, Miss Hemmings.’
    She looked at me very carefully, now uncertain about my intentions. Finally she said: “Then you shall most certainly see me there next Wednesday, Mr Banks.’
    ‘As I’ve said, that is your affair, Miss Hemmings. Now, if you’ll excuse me.’

Chapter Three
    It took no more than a few days to unravel the mystery of Charles Emery’s death. The matter did not attract publicity on the scale of some of my other investigations, but the deep gratitude of the Emery family - indeed, of the whole community of Shackton - made the case as satisfying as any thus far in my career. I returned to London in a glow of well-being and consequently failed to give much thought to my encounter with Sarah Hemmings in the walled garden on that first day of the investigation. I would not say I forgot entirely her declared intentions regarding the Meredith Foundation dinner, but as I say, I was in a triumphant frame of mind and I suppose I chose not to dwell on such things. Perhaps deep down I believed her ‘threat’ to have been no more than a ploy of the moment.
    In any case, when I stepped out of my taxicab outside Claridge’s yesterday evening, my thoughts were elsewhere. I was, for one thing, reminding myself that my recent triumphs had more than entitled me to my invitation; that far from questioning my presence at such a gathering, other guests were likely to press me eagerly for inside information regarding my cases. I was reminding myself too of my resolution not to leave the proceedings prematurely, even if it meant putting up with the odd