just seemed that way because of the length of her skirt. Or perhaps because, whereas most of the female members of the Bar wore black stockings, she wore stockings of some very sheer, dark mauve stuff. Her hair was short and soft and blonde, and her smile, Anthony thought, was devastating. He sat down beside her.
‘I’ll have a pint of bitter, thanks,’ he replied to Edward, and then turned back to look at Julia. Hugh and Alex were engaged in some form of horseplay which involved one of them striking the other over the head with a rolled-up newspaper.
‘I’m Anthony, by the way. I don’t think Edward said.’
‘No, he didn’t. Hello, Anthony. So, why are you his saviour? You haven’t agreed to buy that clapped-out Metro of his, have you?’
‘No,’ he laughed, ‘I said I’d look at some papers for him.’ Now she laughed; it seemed to Anthony to be one of the prettiest laughs he had heard.
‘Don’t be a mug. Eddie’s always asking other people to do his work for him. I know, I was at university with him. He hardly did a stroke of work. Don’t be a mug.’ Anthony realised that she, too, was a little drunk. He was somewhat lost for a reply. At that moment, Edward returned with his drink.
‘Here we go!’ he said heartily, setting down Anthony’s pint. ‘Now, where’s this stuff of Leo’s? Aha!’ He passed the papers to Anthony, who took a sip of his pint.
‘The thing is, Edward, I’m a bit pushed for time. I’ve got to go and see my father tonight—’
‘Oh, it won’t take you five minutes to have a look at them. Anthony’s a genius,’ he confided to Julia, who sipped her drink and tucked her legs up beneath her. They both looked expectantly at Anthony.
With a sigh, he picked up the papers and read through them in silence. When he had finished, he explained their contents to Edward in largely the same fashion as Leo had done.
‘Yes, yes, I know all
that
,’ said Edward impatiently. ‘It’s just – well, what do I
do
?’
‘Well,’ said Anthony slowly, ‘that’s a bit difficult to explain without actually setting it down on paper for you.’
Edward nodded; this seemed like the sort of thing he was after. Good man. There was a long pause. Eventually Edward broke it.
‘D’you think you could? I mean, just a rough sketch, something for me to work on? I’m utterly hopeless at this kind of thing. Just something very rough, an outline. You’re so good at this kind of thing, Tony.’ He turned to Julia. ‘He got a first. He’s a genius.’
‘Eddie, you’re such a sponger,’ remarked Julia, who rose from her chair, kissed him kindly on the top of his head, and left. Anthony watched her go. She wasn’t very tall, but her legs were very long and she was quite lovely.
‘I’ve never seen her here before,’ he said to Edward.
‘That’s ’cause you’re never
in
here, Tony. You work too hard. You want to get about a bit. Anyway, about this thing …’
‘Whose chambers is she in?’
‘I don’t know. Some Chancery lot. God, what a thought. Now, they
really
work hard. God. But, look, what do you say? Just this once. Help me out. If you just put the drift of what I’m meant to be doing down on paper, I can flesh it out. He wants something by tomorrow afternoon,’ Edward beseeched Anthony.
‘All right, just a rough outline.’
‘You’re a prince. Fancy another?’
‘No, thanks. I’ve got to go.’ Anthony tied up the papers and put them in his briefcase.
‘All right. Listen, thanks a million. See you tomorrow.’ And as Anthony was going, he added, ‘Nice girl, Julia, isn’t she?’
By the time he got to Islington it was eight o’clock. The door to the squat was open. He found his father packing clothing into a large duffel bag. Two battered and overfull suitcases stood in the hallway.
‘Off somewhere?’ he enquired. Chay straightened up. He was wearing a long, feminine batik robe and his feet were bare. Anthony was startled to see that, although
‘I’ll have a pint of bitter, thanks,’ he replied to Edward, and then turned back to look at Julia. Hugh and Alex were engaged in some form of horseplay which involved one of them striking the other over the head with a rolled-up newspaper.
‘I’m Anthony, by the way. I don’t think Edward said.’
‘No, he didn’t. Hello, Anthony. So, why are you his saviour? You haven’t agreed to buy that clapped-out Metro of his, have you?’
‘No,’ he laughed, ‘I said I’d look at some papers for him.’ Now she laughed; it seemed to Anthony to be one of the prettiest laughs he had heard.
‘Don’t be a mug. Eddie’s always asking other people to do his work for him. I know, I was at university with him. He hardly did a stroke of work. Don’t be a mug.’ Anthony realised that she, too, was a little drunk. He was somewhat lost for a reply. At that moment, Edward returned with his drink.
‘Here we go!’ he said heartily, setting down Anthony’s pint. ‘Now, where’s this stuff of Leo’s? Aha!’ He passed the papers to Anthony, who took a sip of his pint.
‘The thing is, Edward, I’m a bit pushed for time. I’ve got to go and see my father tonight—’
‘Oh, it won’t take you five minutes to have a look at them. Anthony’s a genius,’ he confided to Julia, who sipped her drink and tucked her legs up beneath her. They both looked expectantly at Anthony.
With a sigh, he picked up the papers and read through them in silence. When he had finished, he explained their contents to Edward in largely the same fashion as Leo had done.
‘Yes, yes, I know all
that
,’ said Edward impatiently. ‘It’s just – well, what do I
do
?’
‘Well,’ said Anthony slowly, ‘that’s a bit difficult to explain without actually setting it down on paper for you.’
Edward nodded; this seemed like the sort of thing he was after. Good man. There was a long pause. Eventually Edward broke it.
‘D’you think you could? I mean, just a rough sketch, something for me to work on? I’m utterly hopeless at this kind of thing. Just something very rough, an outline. You’re so good at this kind of thing, Tony.’ He turned to Julia. ‘He got a first. He’s a genius.’
‘Eddie, you’re such a sponger,’ remarked Julia, who rose from her chair, kissed him kindly on the top of his head, and left. Anthony watched her go. She wasn’t very tall, but her legs were very long and she was quite lovely.
‘I’ve never seen her here before,’ he said to Edward.
‘That’s ’cause you’re never
in
here, Tony. You work too hard. You want to get about a bit. Anyway, about this thing …’
‘Whose chambers is she in?’
‘I don’t know. Some Chancery lot. God, what a thought. Now, they
really
work hard. God. But, look, what do you say? Just this once. Help me out. If you just put the drift of what I’m meant to be doing down on paper, I can flesh it out. He wants something by tomorrow afternoon,’ Edward beseeched Anthony.
‘All right, just a rough outline.’
‘You’re a prince. Fancy another?’
‘No, thanks. I’ve got to go.’ Anthony tied up the papers and put them in his briefcase.
‘All right. Listen, thanks a million. See you tomorrow.’ And as Anthony was going, he added, ‘Nice girl, Julia, isn’t she?’
By the time he got to Islington it was eight o’clock. The door to the squat was open. He found his father packing clothing into a large duffel bag. Two battered and overfull suitcases stood in the hallway.
‘Off somewhere?’ he enquired. Chay straightened up. He was wearing a long, feminine batik robe and his feet were bare. Anthony was startled to see that, although
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