• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

Matthew was not so certain about that. He had endured long periods of being uncluttered, and, on balance, he preferred to be cluttered. He thought of Elspeth Harmony. He would see her that night – he had asked her to have dinner with him and she had agreed. He would cook something special – he had a new risotto recipe that he had mastered and he would give her that. And champagne? Or would that be a little bit too much? Yes, it would. Perhaps they would have a New Zealand white instead. Or something from Western Australia. Margaret River, perhaps.

And what would he wear? That was more difficult, as he obviously could not wear his distressed-oatmeal sweater – not after those remarks that Pat had made. It was not beige! It was not! But there was no point in going over that – it was obvious that distressed oatmeal was not a colour of which every woman approved, and in that case he would wear . . .

‘Pat,’ he said. ‘What should I wear? I mean, what should I wear for special occasions?’

She guessed at what he was talking about. ‘For when you’re seeing what’s-her-name? Elspeth Harm . . .’

‘Harmony.’

‘Yes, her. Well, let me see. Don’t think that . . .’

‘I won’t wear my sweater. Don’t worry.’

‘Good. Well, look, Matthew. You have to decide what your colour is. Then go for that. Build around it.’

Matthew looked interested. ‘Build around my colour?’

Pat looked at him intensely. ‘Yes. And your colour, I would have thought is . . . ultramarine.’

Matthew stared at her. ‘As in Vermeer?’

‘Yes,’ said Pat. ‘Do you know that’s how Vermeer got that lovely shade of blue? By crushing lapis lazuli?’

‘Of course I knew that,’ said Matthew.

‘And that’s why there’s that terrific light in his pictures. The girl with the pearl earring, for instance. That blue in her headscarf.’

‘Do you think I should wear that exact blue?’

Pat nodded. ‘I think so. But you shouldn’t wear everything in that blue, of course. Maybe a shirt in that blue and then get some trousers which are . . . well, maybe blackish, but not pure black. Charcoal. That’s it. Charcoal trousers, Matthew, and an ultramarine shirt.’

‘And a tie?’

‘No, definitely not. Just the shirt, with the top button undone. And don’t, whatever you do, have a button-down collar. Just have it normal. Try to be normal, Matthew.’

Pat went off to the university at lunchtime, leaving Matthew to spend the afternoon in the gallery by himself. He closed early, and made his way up to Stewart Christie in Queen Street. The window was full of brown and green clothes – a hacking jacket, an olive-green overcoat with corduroy elbow patches, green kilt hose – but they were able to produce several blue shirts which struck Matthew as being close to ultramarine. He chose two of these, along with a pair of charcoal trousers and several pairs of Argyle socks, which he needed anyway. Then he made his way down Albany Place, crossed Heriot Row, and was in India Street, where his flat was.

India Street was, in Matthew’s view, the most appealing street in the New Town. If he thought of the streets in the immediate vicinity, each of them had slight drawbacks, some of which it was difficult to put one’s finger on, an elusive matter of feng shui, perhaps, those almost indefinable factors of light or orientation that can make the difference between the presence or absence of architectural blessedness. This, he thought as he walked down his side of the street, is where I want to live – and I am living there. I am a fortunate man.

And he discovered, as he thought of his good fortune, that what he wanted to do more than anything else was to share it. In recent days, he had given two valuable gifts, and the act of giving had filled him with pleasure. Now he would give more; he would sweep Elspeth Harmony up, celebrate her, take her from whatever place she now lived in and offer her his flat in India Street, his fortune, himself, everything.

He looked at the parcel he was carrying, the parcel in which the ultramarine shirts and the charcoal trousers were wrapped. He saw himself in this