The Hunters. Kat Gordon

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ looking at.

      ‘Oh, here’s William,’ my mother said.

      We all turned to look at my father, who was picking his way around the other tables on the terrace. He knocked into the back of a white-haired old lady’s chair, and she glared at him. I wished suddenly that he was younger, more dashing.

      ‘I’m sorry I’m late, darling,’ he said to my mother as he reached us.

      She tipped her face upwards to receive his kiss. ‘Freddie, Sylvie, this is my husband, William.’

      My father held out his hand and Freddie removed his from my shoulder; Freddie’s nails were in much better condition than Sylvie’s – smooth and blush-coloured.

      ‘Pleased to meet you,’ my father said. He shook hands with Freddie and Sylvie then mopped his forehead with a handkerchief. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Freddie wipe his fingers on his trousers.

      ‘Would you like to join us for a drink?’ my mother asked.

      ‘We’d love to,’ Freddie said.

      ‘Theo, Maud, give up your seats,’ she said, and we hopped up.

      The grown-ups ordered drinks and we hovered nearby, Maud busy cradling Roderigo. It was well after our usual suppertime, but I was still brimming with energy somehow, even with an empty stomach.

      Freddie sprawled back in my chair, the ankle of his left leg resting on the knee of his right. He was extremely physical, his hands constantly on the move, tapping his fingers on his foot then on the arm of his chair.

      ‘I can’t believe you’ve never seen Kirlton,’ he was saying. ‘How can you call yourself a Scot? When we were growing up I thought it was more important than Buckingham Palace.’

      ‘I’ve never seen Buckingham Palace either,’ my mother said.

      ‘Now you’re just being contrary.’

      My mother laughed. ‘So is it still in your family?’

      ‘No,’ Freddie said. ‘My grandmother sold it, cursed woman. Generations of bad money management. My father even has to,’ he leaned forwards, ‘work.’

      She smiled. ‘I don’t believe you.’

      ‘It’s true. For the Foreign Office. He was training me up to replace him, but I married an unsuitable woman and came out here to be a farmer instead.’

      I felt a thrill at hearing Sylvie described as ‘unsuitable’ and wished my mother would ask him more about it.

      ‘Well, you’re young enough to get away with it,’ my mother said.

      ‘You noticed,’ Freddie said, grinning.

      ‘You can’t be more than twenty-eight.’

      ‘Twenty-five in May, actually. But you can’t be more than eighteen.’

      ‘Now you’re being cruel,’ my mother said.

      Sylvie was talking to my father about the railway. People’s expressions, especially women’s, usually started to glaze over within five minutes of the topic, but Sylvie was keeping up with him, asking him questions. Every time she exhaled she turned away so the smoke wouldn’t go in my father’s face. In profile, hers seemed sharper somehow, her nose and jaw clearly defined and her lashes long and sweeping. Her eyes protruded slightly, and she kept her lids halfway down, blinking dreamily. She spoke dreamily too; if Freddie was a torrent, Sylvie was like a slow-moving river.

      ‘Look, Theo,’ Maud said, appearing at my side. ‘Roderigo’s gone to sleep … I think he’s snoring.’ She put her head down to listen.

      ‘Maud, don’t get too close to the monkey’s mouth,’ my mother said.

      ‘Freddie said he was tame,’ I said.

      ‘Mr Hamilton, Theo.’

      ‘Freddie, I insist,’ Freddie said. ‘Especially as we’re countrymen. It’s good to hear my name pronounced correctly for once.’

      ‘Was that meant for me?’ Sylvie asked.

      Freddie took her hand and kissed it. ‘You torture it more than the natives.’

      ‘I’m not surprised if they don’t get it right,’ Sylvie said, withdrawing her hand. ‘They’re all terrified of you.’ She cocked an eyebrow at him and he laughed.

      ‘Edie’s got you pegged,’ he said, and turned to my parents. ‘Edie’s my wife.’

      I felt my stomach lurch – as if I was back at school in one of the rugby games, a bigger boy rushing towards me. So they weren’t married, or at least not to each other.

      ‘What does she say?’ Sylvie asked, smiling.

      ‘That you’re a wicked Madonna, slaying the menfolk and defending the vulnerable.’ He stood up and drew her up after him, slipping his arm around her back. She went slack and seemed to lean into him, raising her eyes to meet his and smiling that slow smile. I felt myself prickle with envy and admiration, but also embarrassment at my misunderstanding. They were the two most beautiful, exciting people in Africa. Marriage would have been too ordinary for them. Of course they were lovers.

      ‘Look at you –’ Freddie said. He lifted his free hand up to Sylvie’s face and ran his thumb across her lips. She made a snapping sound, like she was about to bite it, and he moved it quickly, laughing at her. I looked at my parents. They were both checking their watches, and I hoped it wasn’t time to go.

      ‘Well.’ Freddie bowed his head at my mother. ‘We should leave you to have your supper.’

      My father stood up. ‘Yes – we better eat soon. Paid for the food here all week – don’t want to waste it.’

      Sylvie turned away and I had a sudden dread that we’d never see them again. I took a step forwards. ‘Are you staying at the hotel?’ I asked.

      My parents looked surprised. Freddie and Sylvie looked amused.

      ‘For tonight,’ Freddie said. ‘I’m driving back to African Kirlton tomorrow, but I’ll be in Nairobi again for Race Week.’

      ‘What’s that?’

      ‘One of the highlights of the social calendar here,’ he said. He looked at my parents. ‘It happens over Christmas. I’d be happy to take you around it if you’re interested?’

      I prayed they’d accept.

      ‘Don’t feel like you have to,’ my mother said.

      ‘I don’t,’ Freddie said. He kissed her hand. ‘Good to meet you, Jessie, William, Maud, Theo. I’ll call for you in a week.’

      My mother stood too and they all shook hands.

      ‘Very nice to meet you,’ my father said.

      ‘Nice to meet you СКАЧАТЬ