‘If you are looking for company tonight,’ I offered, sitting a little straighter on my barstool. ‘I would certainly be very happy to oblige you.’
The lines running from the curls of her nostrils to the sides of her mouth lengthened. She drew a short thumb-sized device out of a pocket and tapped iton the bar. ‘ My ears have been treated; but I assure you, pressing the red button on this will generate a noise that will rupture your eardrums. This will incapacitate you, and necessitate hospital treatment.’
‘You misjudge the rapacity of my proposal,’ I said stiffly. ‘I meant no offence, and apologize if I have given any. I will not harass you further.’
‘Alternate drinking days withnon-drinking days to give your liver a chance to recuperate!’ the wineglass chimed in. ‘Surgeon General’s advice!’
There was a period of silence. Mrs Grigson lowered her rape alarm and stared for a while through the window into the back garden. Two thrushes were having a conversation on the branch of an apple tree. I couldn’t hear what they were saying. My own face, visible in ghostly fashionin the glass, had fallen into the grimmer posture that is, if I’m honest, natural to it. It was a rather awkward moment. Another person would have made their excuses and left, but I am not another person. I am stubborner than another. So I sat, taking small sips from my wine-glass. There was nothing stopping Mrs Grigson from leaving, of course; but, evidently, her levels of stubborn were ona par with mine. She slipped the rape alarm back in her pocket, and stood there. Finally, not because I thought it likely to defuse the tension, but (if I’m honest) because I thought it might intensify it, I continued our conversation. I’m contrary like that.
‘I encountered a new fence on my way down here. The right of way across the downsland has been blocked off,’ I said. ‘Up above theWhite Horse.’
She turned to look at me. ‘That is correct,’ she replied, with a whole ice age folded into her tone.
‘I spoke to some sapient pigs on the other side of the fence. They implied that the whole area has been turned into a porcine sanctuary.’
‘Mrs Li,’ Grigson said. ‘There has been a good deal of coverage of it in the local iMedia. Some people are not happy with sucha large concentration of canny animals nearby. Anti-trespassing provision has been heavy-handedly applied.’
‘What is this Mrs Lee hoping for?’
She heard my misprision in the length of ‘e’ I gave the surname, or else guessed that I had got it wrong. At any rate she said: ‘Ell, eye; not elly-ee. I do not know her hopes for the community. I dare say that, like many wealthy people in thisday and age, she sees the existence of bêtes as an opportunity to return to Eden.’
‘Well,’ I said, draining my wine. ‘She has no legal right to fence off the rambler path.’
‘Think before refilling me!’ the glass advised. ‘Leave it a day!’
‘You might take the matter to court,’ Mrs Grigson said, not looking at me. ‘Though it would be a long-drawn-out and, likely, fruitless common-lawprosecution.’ Her tone was full of contempt; but it was contempt for me, not for the feebleness of due legal process. Something inside me quailed, but my stubbornness kept me from running away.
I did get up, but instead of making a decent retreat I merely stood there. The sheer, ghastly awkwardness of it had a kind of fascination for me. ‘My boots are nearing the end of their useful,’ Iinformed her. She sneered at me as if nothing could possibly interest her less than the state of my boots – which, I dare say, was indeed the case. ‘I need to replace them,’ I added.
‘I am content for you to put me down as a delivery address,’ she replied, ‘provided you pay for immediate delivery. I am not prepared to hold any items for you after you have departed, until such time as youmight or might not …’
‘Actually I was thinking of going to a store in
The lines running from the curls of her nostrils to the sides of her mouth lengthened. She drew a short thumb-sized device out of a pocket and tapped iton the bar. ‘ My ears have been treated; but I assure you, pressing the red button on this will generate a noise that will rupture your eardrums. This will incapacitate you, and necessitate hospital treatment.’
‘You misjudge the rapacity of my proposal,’ I said stiffly. ‘I meant no offence, and apologize if I have given any. I will not harass you further.’
‘Alternate drinking days withnon-drinking days to give your liver a chance to recuperate!’ the wineglass chimed in. ‘Surgeon General’s advice!’
There was a period of silence. Mrs Grigson lowered her rape alarm and stared for a while through the window into the back garden. Two thrushes were having a conversation on the branch of an apple tree. I couldn’t hear what they were saying. My own face, visible in ghostly fashionin the glass, had fallen into the grimmer posture that is, if I’m honest, natural to it. It was a rather awkward moment. Another person would have made their excuses and left, but I am not another person. I am stubborner than another. So I sat, taking small sips from my wine-glass. There was nothing stopping Mrs Grigson from leaving, of course; but, evidently, her levels of stubborn were ona par with mine. She slipped the rape alarm back in her pocket, and stood there. Finally, not because I thought it likely to defuse the tension, but (if I’m honest) because I thought it might intensify it, I continued our conversation. I’m contrary like that.
‘I encountered a new fence on my way down here. The right of way across the downsland has been blocked off,’ I said. ‘Up above theWhite Horse.’
She turned to look at me. ‘That is correct,’ she replied, with a whole ice age folded into her tone.
‘I spoke to some sapient pigs on the other side of the fence. They implied that the whole area has been turned into a porcine sanctuary.’
‘Mrs Li,’ Grigson said. ‘There has been a good deal of coverage of it in the local iMedia. Some people are not happy with sucha large concentration of canny animals nearby. Anti-trespassing provision has been heavy-handedly applied.’
‘What is this Mrs Lee hoping for?’
She heard my misprision in the length of ‘e’ I gave the surname, or else guessed that I had got it wrong. At any rate she said: ‘Ell, eye; not elly-ee. I do not know her hopes for the community. I dare say that, like many wealthy people in thisday and age, she sees the existence of bêtes as an opportunity to return to Eden.’
‘Well,’ I said, draining my wine. ‘She has no legal right to fence off the rambler path.’
‘Think before refilling me!’ the glass advised. ‘Leave it a day!’
‘You might take the matter to court,’ Mrs Grigson said, not looking at me. ‘Though it would be a long-drawn-out and, likely, fruitless common-lawprosecution.’ Her tone was full of contempt; but it was contempt for me, not for the feebleness of due legal process. Something inside me quailed, but my stubbornness kept me from running away.
I did get up, but instead of making a decent retreat I merely stood there. The sheer, ghastly awkwardness of it had a kind of fascination for me. ‘My boots are nearing the end of their useful,’ Iinformed her. She sneered at me as if nothing could possibly interest her less than the state of my boots – which, I dare say, was indeed the case. ‘I need to replace them,’ I added.
‘I am content for you to put me down as a delivery address,’ she replied, ‘provided you pay for immediate delivery. I am not prepared to hold any items for you after you have departed, until such time as youmight or might not …’
‘Actually I was thinking of going to a store in
Similar Books
