The World According to Bertie - Alexander Hanchett Smith [29]
Pat looked down. She did not like this, and she did not want to hear any more. But Bruce continued.
‘It was a great job. I was meant to source the things we needed for the flats and to chase up the painters and plumbers and whatnot. I made up the spreadsheets for the projects with time-lines and completion dates and stuff like that. It was great. But then Rick – that was his name – invited me to a dinner party at his place. Boy! You should have seen it. Furniture to die for. Big paintings – none of this Victorian junk you sell here. Big splashes of colour. And there was Rick in a caftan. Yes! I look around and think: where are the other guests? Surprise, surprise! No other guests.
‘“Unfortunately, the others cancelled,” said Rick. “So inconsiderate of them!” He turns on the music.’
Pat listened to Bruce with growing horror. I can’t stand him, she thought. I can’t stand him. He led that poor man on just to get the job. I can’t stand him.
Bruce grinned. ‘So you know what I did? I said: “Rick, I’m terribly sorry. I’m just developing this terrible headache. Really bad.” And I started to leave. So he says: “But Bruce, you haven’t had a thing to eat, not a thing! I can’t let you set off with a headache and an empty stomach.” So I said that I wasn’t really hungry and that maybe another day, and so he says: “Tomorrow, Bruce? Same time?” And that was it, really. I phoned him at the office next day and left a message that I wouldn’t be coming back. So that was the end of the job.’
Pat looked away. There was nothing worse, in her view, than talking about something like that; a private encounter in which one person misunderstands another and is made to look pathetic. And Bruce was responsible for the whole misunderstanding by pretending to be gay. She turned back to him. ‘That’s really horrible,’ she said. ‘Really horrible.’
‘I know,’ said Bruce, smiling broadly. ‘But I don’t hold it against him. Not really.’
Pat drew in her breath. It seemed impossible to dent his self-satisfaction, his utter self-assuredness. She wanted to hit him, because that, she thought, might be the only way of telling him what she felt. But she would not have had the chance, even if she had summoned up the courage, as Bruce now slid off the desk, patted her on the arm, and moved towards the door.
‘À bientót,’ he said. ‘Which, translated into the patois of these parts, means: see yous!’
20. Miss Harmony has News for the Children
‘Now listen, everybody,’ said Miss Harmony, clapping her hands to get attention. ‘We have some very interesting news.’ She looked out over the class, seated in a circle round the room. They were always somewhat excited at the beginning of a new term and usually took a few days to settle down, especially if there were any new members. As it happened, there were not, and indeed the class was one member down with the departure of Merlin. He had been withdrawn by his parents, who had decided to home-school him for a trial period. Miss Harmony had not thought that a good idea, as she believed in the socialisation value of the classroom experience, particularly when the parents themselves were so odd. And she had the gravest doubts as to what Merlin’s mother could actually teach her son. There was something very disconcerting about that woman, Miss Harmony thought; her vague, mystical pronouncements, her interest in crystals, and her slightly fey appearance did not inspire confidence. But it was her choice, and it would be respected, although when she thought about it hard enough, she wondered exactly why one should respect the choices of others when those choices were so patently bad ones. That would require further thought, she decided.
Looking around the class, there were various other pupils whom she would quite happily have seen withdrawn for home-schooling. Larch was one, with his aggressive outlook and his . . . well, she did not like to blame a child for his appearance, but there was no escaping the fact that Larch looked like