Original Sin by P. D. James

chamber music, or opera to ballet, or, more important, what wine he preferred. I'm talking about desire, I'm talking about love. Christ, it's like explaining Mozart to the tone-deaf. Look, let's leave it at this: Gerard Etienne deliberately threw us together. At the time he knew that Eric had AIDS. He might have hoped we'd become lovers, he might have intended us to become lovers, he might not have cared a damn either way. Perhaps he was amusing himself. I don't know what he had in mind. I don't much care. I know what I had in mind.'
    'And Eric, knowing he had an infectious disease, didn't tell you? What in God's name was he thinking of?'
    'Well, not at first. He told me later. I'm not blaming him, and if I don't you can keep your moral judgements. And I don't know what he was thinking of. I don't pry into my friends' minds. Perhaps he wanted a companion for the last mile or so before he set off to explore that long silence.' He had added: 'Don't you forgive your friends?'
    'Forgiveness is hardly a word to use between friends. But then, none of my friends has infected me with a fatal disease.'
    'But my dear James, you don't exactly give them the chance, do you?'
    He had questioned Rupert with the detached persistence of a trained investigator, needing to force the truth out of him, desperate to know. 'How can you be sure that Etienne knew Eric was ill?'
    'James, don't cross-examine me. You sound like a prosecuting counsel. And you do love euphemisms don't you? He knew because Eric told him. Etienne asked him when he could expect another book. The Peverell Press had done rather well with his first travel book. Etienne had got it cheap and probably hoped for the next one on the same terms. Eric told him there wouldn't be one. He hadn't the energy
    or the inclination. He had other plans for the rest of his life.'
    'And those included you.'
    'Eventually. It was two weeks after that conversation that Etienne arranged the river trip. Suspicious in itself, wouldn't you say? Not Etienne's kind of jolly at all. Chug chug down dear Old Father Thames to inspect the flood barrier, chug chug back again with smoked salmon sandwiches and champagne. How did you manage
    to avoid it, by the way?'
    'I was in France.'
    'So you were. Your second home. Odd that old Etienne has been so content to spend all these years away from his native land. Gerard and Claudia don't go there either, do they? You'd think they might occasionally like to see the place where Papa and his mates had such a jolly time popping away at Germans from behind the rocks. They never go and you can't keep away. What do you do there, check up on him?'
    'Why should I do that?'
    'It was only a remark, I meant nothing. Anyway, you'll never pin anything on old Etienne. He's been authenticated; there's no doubt there, the genuine hero.'
    'Go on about the river trip.'
    61
    'Oh, it was the usual thing. Giggling typists, Miss Blackett a little tipsy, red puffy face, that awful virginal archness. She'd brought that draught-excluder snake with her. Hissing Sid they call it. Extraordinary woman. Absolutely no humour, I would have said, except about that snake. Some of the girls hung it over the side threatening to drown it, and one of them pretended to feed it champagne. In the end they wound it round Eric's neck and he wore it all the way home. But that was later. On the way up-river I took refuge in the bow. Eric was standing there alone, perfectly still, like a figurehead. He turned and looked at me.' Rupert paused, and then said almost in a whisper: 'He turned round and looked at me. James, what I've just told you, better forget.'
    'No, I shan't do that. Are you telling me the truth?' 'Of course, don't I always?' 'No Rupert, not always.'
    Suddenly his reverie was broken. The kitchen door was flung open and Rupert's buddy thrust out his head. 'I thought I heard the front door. We're just off. Rupert was asking if you were back. You usually go straight up.'
    'Yes,' he said, 'I usually go