At Swim, Two Boys - Jamie O'Neill [109]
“Suppose you’re going to ask me to go on with you now.”
“Would you—if I asked?”
“No.”
“That’s plainly said.”
“Not if you asked. Different if I offered.”
This was a new adventure. And though Dick wasn’t particular what machinations were employed, MacMurrough was not so sure the rest of him felt so agreeable.
“And do you intend to offer?”
Twisted lips that pursed to the embouchure of a kiss. “You’ll have to wait while I find the ma. She’ll be looking for me wages packet.”
There was a shout from behind. One of the fellows on the rocks had caught a fish. MacMurrough saw the exultant face and the limp thing held up. Then he heard the dog-patter of slippered feet as down the spiral stairs, step at a time, step at a time, Scrotes descended from his turret retreat. A breath of cold preceded him till round the bend his face appeared. And which are you? his eyes inquired.
—Fisher or fish? he asked.
But it wasn’t Scrotes who held MacMurrough’s attention. Out of the very corner of his eye he saw the small boy who earlier had scampered over the rocks. He held his nanny’s hand now and was walking with her home along the sea-wall. He looked over his tiny shoulder. Even from this distance, his eyes shone blue as once MacMurrough’s had shone. And it seemed to MacMurrough that a recognition came on his face. That he smiled. That he waved his tiny hand and smiled.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Anthony, dear, if I am to knot your tie you shall have to stand still. Cannot you bend your knees? How tall you must be.”
“Six feet to the inch.”
“Don’t say so too loudly. Only Our Lord was six feet exactly. Some of these people can be very touchy on these subjects.”
“Ought I to be shorter or taller?”
“For the moment you might consider being shorter. It is an age since I bowed a man’s tie. Not since your grandfather. Let me see. No, that won’t do at all. We want you looking your best for our guests. Young ladies, and more pertinently their mothers, have an eye for a well-bowed tie.”
“It being the first serious step in life.”
“How whimsical you are.”
Wilde, of course; though he did not say so. There had been disappointment already. “Turn-ups in your trouser legs. Really, Anthony, I cannot think what your tailor intended. A turn-up is a slight on a gentleman’s carriage.” And his socks. “Lavender, indeed. I have never known morning so colorful. Is it the last cry of St. Germain? Perhaps we might utilize that. My nephew has been abroad. Yes, la Légion étrangére. So happy to have him home.”
“Surely they will have heard where I’ve been?”
“They will have heard what the English have said. Truth is quite another matter.”
Now, while she pulled at his throat, he said, “Hadn’t I ought to be told who’s coming?”
“Few that you would know. Though you ought to know them. It is absurd that a MacMurrough should be so ill informed of his country’s society.” While her fingers fretted, her tongue spilt names. “The usual foule en fête. Old Mrs. Houlihan has long arrived. Ensconced in the garden room with her invalid wine and wafers. Really it was only a charity that I invited her at all as the family has fallen considerably. The estates are encumbered and her sons have flitted about the globe squandering what fortune remained. One fears the daughters may suffer the same trait. Still, she was quite a figure in her day and one had to invite her, if only as a point de départ.
“Then whom have we? Lady O’Brien, to whom we all pay tribute for her remarkable triumph at Crufts. Her Great Danes were judged best of breed, and I might add myself they are the friendliest tamest beasts, quite belying their grisly appearance. She is to present her daughter, wild young thing, gap-toothed, alas, and rather quarrelsome, one hears.
“Madame O’Connor with her crony that Breifne woman. Such memories these people have. I doubt if we’ll ever be forgiven the incident with your grandfather. He invited the woman to share his compartment and such a fuss she made afterwards,