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The Stranger's Child - Alan Hollinghurst [230]

By Root 1036 0
been—not women, he felt. She had a quiver of sexual energy about her, unexpectantly tucked under her crushed velvet hat. They moved away together, each looking round as if prepared to free the other. He felt she liked him, without being interested in him—it was a consciously temporary thing, and none the less happy for that. He said, “Well, you were saying …!” and she said, “What?—oh, well, yes … so, Paul Bryant started out, before he became a great literary figure, as a humble bank-clerk …” Rob glanced round—“Oh, actually,” he said, and touched her arm. The readers and speakers of course were moving among the crowd, with uncertain status, as mourners and performers. Now Bryant was just beside them, making for the buffet, talking to a large woman and a handsome young Chinese man with glasses and a tie-clip. “Oh, I know!” Bryant was saying, “it’s an absolute outrage—the whole thing!” There was something camp and declamatory about him—Rob saw he was still riding the wave of his performance; to himself he was still the focus of attention. “I need a drink!” he said, sounding just like Peter, cutting in behind Jennifer, with a busy but gracious nod, an unguarded blank glance at her, two heavy seconds of possible recognition, a breathless turn, surely, and denial—“Andrea, what are you having?” But Jennifer, curious and fearless, touched his shoulder: “Paul?” she said, and as he twitched and turned, her face was a wonderful hesitant mask of mockery, greeting and reproach. Rob thought she must be the most terrifying teacher.

Bryant stepped back, gripped her forearm, stared as if he were being tricked, while some rushed but extremely complex calculation unfurled behind his eyes. Then, “Jenny, my dear, I don’t believe it!”

“Well, here I am.”

“Oh, Peter would have been thrilled,” shaking his head in wonderment. Was it a fight or a reunion? He craned forward—“I can’t believe it!” again; and kissed her.

She laughed, “Oh!,” coloured slightly and went on at once, “Well, Peter meant a lot to me, long ago.”

“Oh, the dear old tart that he was …,” Bryant said, glancing narrowly at Rob, not knowing of course what role he might have played in Peter’s life. “No, a great man. Peter Rowe-my-dear, you used to call him, do you remember?”—he was sticking to the fondly proprietary view of the deceased, barbs in an indulgent tone of voice. “Andrea, this is Jenny Ralph—or was—I don’t know …?”

“Still is,” said Jenny firmly.

“A very old friend. Andrea … who was Peter’s next-door neighbour, am I right?”

“Rob,” said Rob, nodding, not giving them much to go on, though Jennifer endorsed him, in a supportive murmur, “Yes, Rob …”

“Rob … hello, and this is—where are you?—come here!—Bobby”—to the patient Chinese man he’d turned his back on—“my partner.”

Rob shook hands with Bobby, and smiled at him through the knowing shimmer of gay introductions, the surprise and speculation. “Civil?” he said.

Bryant said, “Hmm, well, some of the time,” and Bobby, with a sweet but tired grin at him, said politely,

“Yes, we’re civil partners.”

In a minute glasses of wine were raised, Bryant peeping over his a bit cautiously at Jennifer, who said, in her candid way, “Well, I read your book.”

“Oh, my dear,” he said, with a little shake of the head; then, “Which one?”

“You know—Uncle Cecil …”

“Oh, England Trembles, yes …”

“You caused quite a stir with that one,” said Jennifer.

“Tell me about it!” said Bryant. “Oh, the trouble I had with that book.” He explained to Andrea, “It’s the book I mentioned in my speech just now, if you remember—the life of Cecil Valance. My first book, actually.” He turned to Jennifer. “There were times I felt I’d bitten off more than I could chew.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” said Jennifer.

“Didn’t he write ‘Two Acres’?” said Andrea. “I had to learn that at school.”

“Then you probably still know it,” Jennifer assured her.

“Something about the something path of love …”

“It was written for my grandmother,” said Jennifer.

“Or, as I contend, for your great-uncle!” said Bryant gamely.

“That’s amazing.” Andrea looked round. “I must introduce you

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