called upon to, he could’ve given his T-cell count to within ±10. Do you know where you’re going? he asked.
—I’m looking for a Mr Wotton.
—Henry’s got his wife with him at the moment. Is he expecting you?
—I called this morning and said I’d be coming.
—Oh, you’re Baz Hallward… It seemed as if the nurse was going to add to this, but he didn’t.
—That’s right.
—Yes, he’s definitely expecting you – in fact, he’s looking forward to seeing you, said you’d be an antidote to our royal visitor –
—I’m sorry?
—Princess Di, she was here a few minutes ago – didn’t you see the kerfuffle on your way in? It’s a pity she had to bring that warmonger’s wife with her.
The nurse – whose name was Gavin – might have been about to add to this as well, but at that moment Batface appeared by the nursing station in a gyrating tangle of plastic bag, handbag and car keys. As if only ten minutes had passed, she was in the same purposeless dither as ever. She looked older, certainly, but none the worse for wear. In fact, her rather more matronly habit – a well-cut scarlet two-piece, dark tights and serious pearls – acted as a visual sedative, making her daffy delirium much easier for onlookers to bear. Um yes, Gavin, sorry to bother you…
—Yes, Lady Wotton?
—Quite discomfited by Diana Spencer – not that we know her, excepting en passant , but still, not ex-pec-ting her. No, not at all. Wanted to curtsy, but Henry’s so against such deference. Calls curtsying ‘waterless peeing’ – vulgar but apt. Anyway… Henry says it’s quite all right with you people if he discharges himself tomorrow…
—That’s OK.
—I’ll pick him up after lunch, seminar in the morning, have to bring Phoebe, Nanny’s got the dentist… It’s of no interest to you, Gavin, of course… but Henry insists on a little smackerel from F-Fortnum’s for supper, his friend Bluejay will bring it by – at around nine?
—Now Lady Wotton, you know we don’t like Henry’s friend Bluejay on the ward – for obvious reasons…
—Oh, absolutely, I quite understand, he can be rather silly. I’m not keen on him at home, either, but Henry is most insistent, says he’ll discharge himself before the ward round if Bluejay can’t call by. Asked me to ask you most especially…
—As far as I’m concerned this will be entirely for your sake – not Henry’s. Do you understand me, Lady Wotton?
—Oh, ab-so-lutely, Gavin, f-fully comprehended. Most grateful, many thanks, must go now… meter… Batface was about to depart but then she noticed Baz. Is it Basil Hallward?
—It is. He went forward to her and their cheeks collided drily.
—It must be five years since I’ve seen you.
—I’d say more like ten.
—Henry told me you were coming; he’s very much looking forward to it – he only wants to see his old friends now he’s got this b-b-bug… He told me you’d given up on the art world, taken another direction, quite changed your life…
—That’s right, Batface. I’m hoping I can help change Henry’s as well.
—Oh, too late for that I should imagine, ha ha, still… She whinnied nervously, sensing she’d said too much, then cantered on. You’ll be in London for a while, won’t you? Have you somewhere to stay?
—I’m all right.
—Oh, well, but you’ll dine with us… tomorrow? And most days… Henry will want that, I know. He’s just the same as ever – anyone he wants with him he wants with him all the time.
—I should like that, Batface.
—Good good, settled then, tomorrow. Bye Basil, bye Gavin, must dash.
And she was gone, although to describe her egress as dashing would have been a mistake – she clunked off on court shoes, pigeon-toed, arms akimbo. The two men exchanged looks, each warning the other not to mock.
—So, Baz, Henry’s free now. He’s in Room 6, and you’d better go and see him before bloody Bluejay turns up.
There were small cuboid rooms
—I’m looking for a Mr Wotton.
—Henry’s got his wife with him at the moment. Is he expecting you?
—I called this morning and said I’d be coming.
—Oh, you’re Baz Hallward… It seemed as if the nurse was going to add to this, but he didn’t.
—That’s right.
—Yes, he’s definitely expecting you – in fact, he’s looking forward to seeing you, said you’d be an antidote to our royal visitor –
—I’m sorry?
—Princess Di, she was here a few minutes ago – didn’t you see the kerfuffle on your way in? It’s a pity she had to bring that warmonger’s wife with her.
The nurse – whose name was Gavin – might have been about to add to this as well, but at that moment Batface appeared by the nursing station in a gyrating tangle of plastic bag, handbag and car keys. As if only ten minutes had passed, she was in the same purposeless dither as ever. She looked older, certainly, but none the worse for wear. In fact, her rather more matronly habit – a well-cut scarlet two-piece, dark tights and serious pearls – acted as a visual sedative, making her daffy delirium much easier for onlookers to bear. Um yes, Gavin, sorry to bother you…
—Yes, Lady Wotton?
—Quite discomfited by Diana Spencer – not that we know her, excepting en passant , but still, not ex-pec-ting her. No, not at all. Wanted to curtsy, but Henry’s so against such deference. Calls curtsying ‘waterless peeing’ – vulgar but apt. Anyway… Henry says it’s quite all right with you people if he discharges himself tomorrow…
—That’s OK.
—I’ll pick him up after lunch, seminar in the morning, have to bring Phoebe, Nanny’s got the dentist… It’s of no interest to you, Gavin, of course… but Henry insists on a little smackerel from F-Fortnum’s for supper, his friend Bluejay will bring it by – at around nine?
—Now Lady Wotton, you know we don’t like Henry’s friend Bluejay on the ward – for obvious reasons…
—Oh, absolutely, I quite understand, he can be rather silly. I’m not keen on him at home, either, but Henry is most insistent, says he’ll discharge himself before the ward round if Bluejay can’t call by. Asked me to ask you most especially…
—As far as I’m concerned this will be entirely for your sake – not Henry’s. Do you understand me, Lady Wotton?
—Oh, ab-so-lutely, Gavin, f-fully comprehended. Most grateful, many thanks, must go now… meter… Batface was about to depart but then she noticed Baz. Is it Basil Hallward?
—It is. He went forward to her and their cheeks collided drily.
—It must be five years since I’ve seen you.
—I’d say more like ten.
—Henry told me you were coming; he’s very much looking forward to it – he only wants to see his old friends now he’s got this b-b-bug… He told me you’d given up on the art world, taken another direction, quite changed your life…
—That’s right, Batface. I’m hoping I can help change Henry’s as well.
—Oh, too late for that I should imagine, ha ha, still… She whinnied nervously, sensing she’d said too much, then cantered on. You’ll be in London for a while, won’t you? Have you somewhere to stay?
—I’m all right.
—Oh, well, but you’ll dine with us… tomorrow? And most days… Henry will want that, I know. He’s just the same as ever – anyone he wants with him he wants with him all the time.
—I should like that, Batface.
—Good good, settled then, tomorrow. Bye Basil, bye Gavin, must dash.
And she was gone, although to describe her egress as dashing would have been a mistake – she clunked off on court shoes, pigeon-toed, arms akimbo. The two men exchanged looks, each warning the other not to mock.
—So, Baz, Henry’s free now. He’s in Room 6, and you’d better go and see him before bloody Bluejay turns up.
There were small cuboid rooms
Similar Books
