Read Online Idiopathy by Sam Byers - Free Book Online Page B

anyone with a more perfect balance of the particular elements that this role would require someone to juggle they should let him know. They offered him the job on the spot. He sold it to Angelica as a way of genuinely making a difference, and to her credit she’d given him the benefit of the doubt. Sebastian, on the other hand, had not only failed to stop demonstrating but, probably out of sheer spite, had stepped up his efforts, meaning that the façade of friendship they maintained for Angelica’s benefit was now thinner than ever. Nonetheless, every weekend Daniel had to smile his way through dinner, the phrase
fuck the hippies
sticking rather uncomfortably in his throat.
    The evenings were all much of a muchness, and Daniel found them tolerable only in that they spared him having to spend another evening bonding with Angelica. Angelica always cooked – something lumpy and hearty and altogether heinous – and Sebastian and Plum always brought wine – something dry and unusual with impeccable political credentials.
    Tonight was, naturally, no different. They arrived late enough to demonstrate their casual disregard for bourgeois punctuality yet not so late as to relinquish the right to get angry if anyone was ever overly behind schedule for one of their own gatherings. Plum was wearing a dress she’d fashioned herself from a collection of period cushion covers sourced, as she explained, from an amazing little charity shop they’d found while holidaying in Brighton. Sebastian was wearing brown boots with heels that were borderline Cuban, stonewashed jeans and a jacket with a Nehru collar. His long hair was tied back in a way that made it look like his smile was caused by tension across his scalp and face.
    ‘Ange,’ said Sebastian, kissing Angelica on the lips (cheek-kissing was repressed, everyone seemed to agree, and reserved only for uncomfortable or false situations). ‘Great to see you. God, you look fabulous. Doesn’t she look fabulous, Daniel?’
    ‘Of course,’ said Daniel as Plum kissed him on the cheek. ‘As do you, Plum.’
    ‘Barium irrigation,’ she said, reaching over to embrace Angelica while Sebastian waved awkwardly at Daniel across the hugging women. ‘I feel like superwoman.’
    ‘It’s amazing how much crap you can hold in your colon,’ said Angelica.
    They seated themselves at the dining table, where Angelica had lit candles. The stereo was playing something Brazilian. Angelica went off to gather the meal.
    ‘Can I do anything, hon?’ called Daniel.
    ‘No,’ she called back, much to his disappointment. ‘Just stay and entertain, darling.’
    Sebastian smiled. ‘You don’t mind me telling Ange how fabulous she looks, do you?’
    ‘Of course not,’ said Daniel. ‘How are you, anyway?’
    ‘Wonderful,’ said Plum.
    ‘Lots happening,’ said Sebastian.
    ‘That’s great,’ said Daniel.
    ‘And how about you?’ said Sebastian, flashing his teeth. ‘How’s life in the lab?’
    ‘I don’t work in the labs,’ Daniel replied, for perhaps the hundredth time.
    ‘Oh yes, I always forget. You don’t research, you just proselytise the research.’
    ‘Oh leave him alone, Seb,’ said Plum.
    ‘I’m just ribbing him a bit. You don’t mind, do you, Dan?’
    Daniel did mind, and also disliked having his name abbreviated, but commented on neither transgression, since to do so would ruin the atmosphere. Angelica set great store by atmosphere, and woe betide anyone who was caught jeopardising it.
    ‘Well I think proselytising’s a bit strong,’ said Daniel. ‘It’s more a sort of educational capacity, really.’
    ‘You’re the minister of propaganda then,’ said Sebastian.
    ‘Not really, no.’
    Like many in his circle, Sebastian determinedly equated anything he didn’t like with fascism.
    ‘You’ve seen the headlines, I assume?’ said Sebastian. ‘God, what am I saying? You probably wrote the headlines.’
    ‘Which headlines are we talking about?’
    ‘You know,