The Line of Beauty - Alan Hollinghurst [148]
"Yep . . . " said Sally, nodding illusionlessly.
Catherine was blank with concealed astonishment. "A hundred and fifty million pounds."
"Well, not lire, young lady, I can assure you. Or Bolivian bolivianos, either."
There was a pause while Catherine allowed them to enjoy her confusion, and Toby said something smooth about the markets, which Sir Maurice merely shrugged at, to show he couldn't be expected to talk about such things at their level.
Catherine poked at a segmental log of cucumber in her drink and said, "I noticed you gave some money to the appeal at Podier church."
"Oh, we give to endless churches and appeals," said Sally.
"How much did you give?"
"I don't recall exactly."
"Probably quite a lot, knowing Maurice!" Sir Maurice had the super-complacent look of someone being criticized.
"You gave five francs," said Catherine. "Which is about fifty new pence. But you could have given"—she raised her glass and swept it across the vista of hills and the far glimpse of river—"a million francs, without noticing really, and single-handedly saved the Romanesque narthex!"
These were two terms Maurice Tipper had never had to deal with singly, much less together. "I don't know about not noticing," he said, rather leniently.
"You simply can't give to everything," said Sally. "You know, we've got Covent Garden . . ."
"No, OK," said Catherine, tactically, as if she'd been quite silly.
"What's all this . . . ?" said Gerald, coming out in shorts and espadrilles, with a towel over his shoulder.
"The young lady was giving me some criticism. Apparently I'm rather mean."
"Not in so many words," said Catherine.
"I'm afraid the fact is that some people just are very rich," said Sally.
Gerald, clearly sick of his guests, and glancing tensely towards the steps to the pool, said, "My daughter tends to think we should give everything we've worked for away."
"Not everything, obviously. But it might be nice to help when you can." She gave them a toothy smile.
"Well, did you put something in the box?" said Sir Maurice.
"I didn't have any money with me," said Catherine.
Gerald went on, "My daughter lives her life under the strange delusion that she's a pauper, rather than—well, what she is. I'm afraid she's impossible to argue with because she keeps saying the same thing."
"It's not that," said Catherine vaguely and irritably. "I just don't see why, when you've got, say, forty million you absolutely have to turn it into eighty million."
"Oh . . . !" said Sir Maurice, as if at an absurdly juvenile mistake.
"It sort of turns itself, actually," said Toby.
"I mean who needs so much money? It's just like power, isn't it. Why do people want it? I mean, what's the point of having power?"
"The point of having power," said Gerald, "is that you can make the world a better place."
"Quite so," said Sir Maurice.
"So do you start off wanting to do particular things, or just to have the sensation of power, to know you can do things if you want to?"
"It's the chicken and the egg, isn't it," said Sally with conviction.
"It's rather a good question," said Toby, seeing that Maurice was getting fed up.
"If I had power," said Catherine, "which god forbid—"
"Amen to that," murmured Gerald.
"I think I should stop people having a hundred and fifty million pounds."
"There you are, then," said Sir Maurice, "you've answered your own question." He laughed briefly. "I must say, I hadn't expected to hear this kind of talk in a place like this."
Gerald moved off, saying, "It's art school, I'm afraid, Maurice," but not looking sure that this routine disparagement would please his guest any more than the lunch at Chez Claude.
(iv)
During dinner that evening the phone rang. Everyone out on the terrace looked ready for a call, and a self-denying smirk spread along the table as they listened to Liliane answering it. Nick was expecting nothing himself, but he saw the Tippers being called home by some opportune disaster. Liliane came out into the edge of the candlelight and said it was for Madame. The conversation at table continued thinly