Читать книгу Heirs Apparent - Philip Gibbs - Страница 4

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He met Audrey Nye at Fuller’s in the Cornmarket, where he proposed to have a light lunch. One could have excellent salmon mayonnaise and ice-cream sodas. Audrey looked a little pale under her Tudor cap, but otherwise cheerful.

“Hullo!” she greeted him. “How do you feel this morning? Shall we share a table?”

“Here’s one,” said Julian. “Shall I throw your gown over the peg?”

Audrey sat down and regarded the menu card.

“Light food for me this morning,” she remarked. “Very light food.”

She waved the menu at two Somerville girls who came in. They laughed at her as though aware of some good jest, and took a table by the window.

“Any news?” asked Julian casually.

“Quite a lot,” answered Audrey. She gave a queer little catch in her breath and then said, “I’ve been sent down!”

Julian glanced at her over the menu card and raised his eyebrows.

“Is that so? About last night?”

“Yes. Rotten bad luck. When I went through the window—you remember?—I stepped on Beatrice Tuck’s dressing-table. You know what sort of a thing she is, and what sort of a dressing-table she would have. Absolutely laden with scent bottles, powder pots, lip salves, face creams, hair washes. They all went down like an avalanche—enough to waken the dead! Then as I jumped I trod on Beatrice Tuck’s face. Needless to say I didn’t do it deliberately. Any decent girl would understand that. But the Tuck creature says I damaged her nose—such a nose too! and gave the whole game away to the Principal! Treachery, I call it. However, there it is. I’m sent down.”

“Bad luck,” said Julian. “What are you going to eat?”

They chose salmon mayonnaise. They nearly always did. Towards the end of the meal Audrey suggested that Julian should pay for her lunch, if he didn’t mind. She had had to pay up some outstanding debts, and had just enough in her purse to get back to her father’s vicarage at Hartland.

“Near Guildford,” said Julian. “I forgot your governor was vicar there. My people are living at Gorse Hill, which is not far away. I’ll motor you back if you like.”

“If I like!”

Audrey’s brown eyes lighted up and then became overcast with the shadow of a doubt.

“How can you? At the beginning of the term?”

“That’s easy,” said Julian. “I’m going down too, this afternoon.”

“What, you too? Sent down? No!”

She gave a little gasp.

“Not exactly,” said Julian. “I’m sending myself down, though it amounts to the same thing. As a great scholar remarked this morning, with a slight inaccuracy of quotation, ‘Hodie tibi, cras mihi—your turn to-day, mine to-morrow.’ ”

“Thanks,” said Audrey, “I understood first time.”

After this assertion of scholarship she looked rather worried and glanced anxiously at Julian.

“I hope our little binge last night didn’t put the lid on your career? It was my fault mostly.”

“Not at all,” said Julian. “It was Clatworthy who lured us into sin. Anyhow he paid for the party, and it must have been pretty expensive.”

“Very,” answered Audrey. “That chandelier cost him twenty pounds. Last night he thought it was worth it—the jolly old smash!”

She gave a little squeal of laughter at the reminiscence and then asked, “What about your career, Julian? I should be sorry if I thought I’d helped to blast it.”

Julian reassured her.

“On the contrary. So far from blasting it, or putting the lid on, you’ve helped to take the lid off. I’m sick of wasting time in this City of Beautiful Nonsense. Oxford! Oh, Lord! ... I think I’ll have a look at real life, after a bit.”

“You won’t like it,” said Audrey, rather grimly.

Julian lifted his eyebrows. It was a trick of his to show mild surprise, which was never more than he permitted himself in any crisis or at any statement. Then a faint smile of amusement softened the line of his lips.

“You think it’s as bad as that? Oh, well, I daresay you’re right! May as well have a dash at it though. What time are you starting this afternoon?”

Audrey was ready to start at any time. She was taking no more than a hand bag. All her things were being sent after her.

“Make it two-fifteen,” said Julian. “Outside the Clarry. That’s where I stable my car.”

Audrey agreed upon the time and cheered herself up—she needed cheering a little—by a valiant attempt at optimism.

“Well, anyhow it’s a nice day for a funeral, and the country’s looking lovely!”