Read Online Marking Time by Elizabeth Jane Howard - Free Book Online Page A

As though he sensed her
– faint – anxiety about this, Edward said, ‘I really swear we shall be perfectly safe there. The family are all in Sussex, immersed in getting ready for the Babies’ Hotel
arrival. Villy is in charge of the blackout. Anyway, she has . . . other things to look after.’ This, she knew, was a tactful reference to Roland, the new baby, born in April, precisely two
months after she had first heard of his existence.
    ‘Of course I trust you,’ she said, and he smiled and took her hand.
    ‘I know you do,’ he said, giving it a little squeeze. ‘You’re a marvellous girl, and I’m the luckiest man in the world.’
    While they finished their caviar, they watched a neighbouring couple being served with
canard en presse
– an oldish couple who hardly spoke to each other. The man screwed his
monocle into his eye to watch the carving of the duck breast, while the woman looked distastefully at her mouth in a tiny mirror. The pieces of breast were laid on a silver dish over a spirit lamp.
Edward said, ‘Do you know the story of the woman here who was wearing a very
decollete
dress?’ Diana shook her head. ‘Well, one of her, you know, breasts fell out, and a
young waiter saw it and popped it back.’
    ‘What
savoir faire.’
    ‘Oh, no, it wasn’t. The head waiter came up to him and hissed, “In this restaurant, we use a slightly warm tablespoon.”’
    ‘Darling! You made that up!’
    ‘I didn’t. A chap I know saw it all.’
    The juices of the carcass had now been pressed and were being heated in a silver sauceboat over another spirit lamp.
    ‘Supposing everybody ordered that,’ Diana said, ‘what would they do?’
    ‘They’d be up a gum tree. I don’t much care for it myself – it’s too rich. I like plain food.’
    ‘Plain food! You really can’t call caviar and grouse plain food! It’s party food!’
    ‘Well, this is a very small private party. It’s my birthday.’
    After a second of horror that she might have forgotten, she said, ‘Your birthday’s in May!’
    ‘I have one every month.’
    ‘It must make you frightfully old.’
    ‘Yes, I’m marvellous for my age.’ The wine waiter brought the claret and poured a little into Edward’s glass; he thrust his nose into it, and nodded. ‘That’s
fine. Pour some now, would you?’
    ‘What is it?’ She knew he liked her to be interested in wine.
    ‘Pontet Canet ’twenty-six. I thought it would suit our grouse.’
    ‘Lovely.’ One of the differences between her husband and Edward, she thought, was that Angus kept behaving as though he was rich when he wasn’t, and Edward behaved as though he
was only a little richer than he was. It was wonderful to be with somebody where a treat of any kind didn’t involve pinching for weeks on everything else. It was also lovely to be with
somebody who didn’t pretend to be bored by the good things in life. Angus thought it was the thing to seem weary about any pleasure or extravagance, as though he had really had too much of it
all, whereas Edward, who seemed to have a pretty good life all the time, never stopped enjoying it and saying so.
    ‘This is
fun
, isn’t it?’ he was now saying, as he attacked his bird. ‘It was rather bright of me to have to spend the morning at the wharf. A really cast-iron
alibi. And then, of course, I
have
to collect all kinds of stuff from Lansdowne Road for Villy, and then the traffic will be dreadful getting out of London.’
    ‘It probably actually will be.’
    ‘Well, we’ll worry about that when we get to it. The great thing is to enjoy the present and let the future take care of itself.’
    But it doesn’t, she thought, several hours later, lying on her back in the bed in Edward’s large dressing room; or, rather, perhaps it does, but it doesn’t take care of
me
. Her own future stretched drearily before her and she felt she was simply being keel-hauled in its wake. If there was a war, and even Edward seemed to think that