The Essence of the Thing by Madeleine St John Read Free Book Online Page A

with very shiny taps and hoses and five different kinds of spray. Bliss!
    ‘Are we doing anything on Sunday?’
    ‘I don’t know, are we?’
    ‘Not if you don’t think so.’
    ‘We’ll ask Guy. We’ve probably promised him something and forgotten it. He’ll remember. Guy!’
    ‘What is it?’
    ‘Did we fix anything for Sunday?’
    ‘No, Saturday. Rollerskating, remember?’
    ‘Oh, yes. You bet. Right. That’s all then, you can go away again if you like.’
    ‘No, I’ll stay, in case you’re talking about something interesting.’
    ‘We’re not. We’re only talking about Sunday.’
    ‘What about Sunday?’
    ‘Nicola’s asked us to go over to Notting Hill for lunch.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘She wants us to see her posh new flat and her posh new cohabitant.’
    ‘Cor.’
    ‘So since we’re not doing anything else, we will.’
    ‘Oh, Susannah, must we?’
    ‘Can I stay at home, Mum?’
    ‘Yes we must. No you can’t.’
    ‘Oh!’
    ‘Oh!’
    ‘You like Nicola.’
    ‘But there’s him .’
    ‘You hardly know him.’
    ‘I don’t want to.’
    ‘We needn’t stay long.’
    ‘We won’t.’
    ‘We’ll see.’
    ‘I don’t want to go. I want to stay here.’
    ‘You can’t stay here alone, my treasure. We’ll go somewhere nice afterwards. We might go to a film. We’ll see what’s on.’
    ‘Promise?’
    ‘Promise.’
    ‘Whizzy!’

21
    ‘Well, that was painless enough wasn’t it?’ said Susannah.
    She and Geoffrey and Guy were in the car on their way from Notting Hill to the South Bank to see The Navigator as per the agreed quid pro quo . Guy’s behaviour throughout the luncheon had been exemplary; even Geoffrey’s reluctance had been dissipated.
    ‘Blokes who can come up with plonk like that,’ said he, having drunk Jonathan’s claret liberally, ‘are okay by me.’
    Susannah (who was driving) frowned but said nothing. She was doing Hyde Park Corner.
    ‘What did you think of him?’ she asked Guy.
    ‘He’s all right,’ the child replied. ‘I don’t think he’s met anyone of my age before. He’s fairly nice.’
    ‘I think so too,’ said Susannah.
    ‘And his wine is better still,’ said Geoffrey.
    ‘So we’re all happy,’ said Susannah.
    ‘Especially Nicola,’ said Geoffrey unexpectedly.
    ‘Yes,’ said Susannah. ‘Isn’t she? It almost breaks my heart to look at her.’
    ‘Why does it break your heart?’ asked Guy, genuinely puzzled.
    ‘Ah, if I could only tell,’ she said. ‘But I canna.’
    This impasse was breached by their having arrived at their destination, so they parked and hurried inside just in time to buy the tickets and get themselves settled in before the great work commenced, once again, its déroulement .
    Much later that night when Guy had gone to bed, ‘What did you really think of him?’ Susannah said to Geoffrey. ‘Now that we’ve had a good long look.’
    Geoffrey was catching up with the Sunday papers—‘Not that there’s a bloody thing worth reading in these rags, except for some of the political commentary’—he looked up, nonplussed. ‘Who?’ he said. ‘You mean Buster? A genius. Haven’t I always said so?’
    ‘Not Buster Keaton, you fool. I mean Jonathan.’
    ‘Ah, yes. I see. Jonathan. Well, as I said, his liquor’s first-rate. More than that I cannot tell.’
    ‘Oh, do make an effort.’
    ‘What do you want me to say? He’s just another lawyer, isn’t he, just another cunning, cautious, conservative, overpaid jackass. Not my kinda guy, but why should he be? I’ll be happy to drink his wine whenever the occasion arises.’
    ‘You’re the limit!’ said Susannah. ‘Of all the snobbish, prejudiced, narrow-minded—’
    ‘Ah, you girls,’ Geoffrey interrupted. ‘You do love a man of means, don’t you?’
    ‘Naturally.’
    ‘You can’t buck biology.’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘You’re programmed to admire these good-provider types. Can’t think what you’re doing with the likes of me.’
    ‘No, I must