The Line of Beauty - Alan Hollinghurst [153]
"Still, you're nice and near your friend."
"I can hear old Ouradi snoring, yes," said Nick, rather heartily, and sat down at the table.
"Actually I don't mind old Ouradi," said Catherine.
"He's all right, isn't he."
"I always thought he was just a spoilt little ponce, but there's a wee bit more to him than that. He can even be quite funny."
"I know . . ." said Nick, who thought of himself as much funnier than Wani.
"I mean he's bloody moody. Sometimes he's just not there, he's like a shop dummy going charming . . . duchess . . . et cetera; and sometimes he's the life and soul."
"I know what you mean," said Nick, with a wary laugh at her mimicry. "You get used to that."
Catherine leaned back on her arms and swung her legs. "I'm quite glad I'm not his fiancee, I must say."
"I think she's probably used to that too."
"She's certainly had time to get used to it . . ."
Nick looked down, realigned the books on his table, his notebooks, Henry James's memoirs covering the Spartacus gay guide to the world. He assumed Catherine had come here with a purpose. She glanced round, and then got up and closed the door, in the abstracted way of someone already working on the next thing.
"I must say I'm beginning to wonder about old Wani," she said.
"How do you mean . . . ?"
"He's rather brilliant, actually."
"Oh . . . ?"
"He's completely pulled the wool over your blue eyes."
Nick smiled dimly, with anxiety and a vague sense of a compliment. "Quite probably," he said.
Catherine sat down and said, "My little Jaz has got a theory."
"Oh, yes?" said Nick. "I wouldn't automatically credit a theory of little Jaz's."
Catherine carried on as if she didn't mind him sounding like her father. "Perhaps not, but. . .Jasper's very observant, you know, well, you probably don't believe me . . . anyway, he thinks he's a fag."
"Oh!" Nick tutted disappointedly. "Yeah, people are always saying that. It's just because he bathes so often and wears see-through trousers." The odd thing, Nick thought, was that people said it so rarely.
"Jasper says he follows him round all the time trying to get a look at his knob."
"Mm . . . It sounds to me a bit like vanity, darling. Jasper's always following me round trying to show me his knob." Perhaps this was too frank. "You must admit, he can be a bit of a flirt." Nick was surprised by his own presence of mind, but still he sniggered, and crossed his legs in complex discomfort.
"Wani hasn't said anything at all, then? About Jaz? I suppose he would be extra careful to keep it from you, wouldn't he—in case you got the wrong idea! Wouldn't do at all!" said Catherine, perhaps not convinced by her own theory.
Nick was blushing, but he looked at her levelly. "I don't know, darling," he said, and bit his lower lip. "Aren't they alone together down at the pool right now? Who knows what might be happening?"
"At least he's not wearing his thong today," said Catherine.
"No, quite . . ." Nick pushed on defensively with his rough joke. "Though once they get into the pool-house together . . ."
Catherine gave him a bothered stare, and coloured a little herself. She knew of course that Nick knew that Jasper fucked her in the pool-house, it was a silent brag; but of course she didn't know that Nick had fucked Wani there last night, after the awful dinner, in a storm of pent-up anger. She said, "Oh, god, don't mention the pool-house."
"What . . . ?"
"Gerald was on to me about it this morning, and behaving broadly like an ape, I must say."
"Oh, darling . . . I saw something was going on": and the image of Gerald standing by the pool, head down, shoulders rounded in accusing disappointment, was somehow ape-like, it was true.
"Apparently her ladyship found a rubber johnny floating in the lav. She was frightfully upset, as you can imagine. It quite ruined her early-morning