Pandora by Jilly Cooper Page B

be able to tell you more next week.’
    Mervyn took a gulp of his freshened gin and tonic, and pursed his lips.
    ‘I’d like to chance it.’
    Once again Raymond raised his hand.
    ‘No, no, I can’t let you, we’ve got till the end of August. Now, what else have we got that Margaret might like?’
    ‘Promise not to sell it to someone else?’
    ‘I promise.’
    There was lots of hearty laughter as Sir Mervyn accused Raymond of being too honest.
    ‘I’d never give you a job in my company,’ then, picking up Galena’s Wild-Flower Meadow , he said, ‘I’d like to buy this picture as well. And while we’re here, have you got any early Casey Andrews?’
    David was enraptured – never had he seen such an example of grace under pressure. A thunderous rumble from Sir Mervyn’s large tummy brought him back to earth. Rosemary’s drink must be empty by now. He raced back to the terrace to find her alone. Galena must have buggered off upstairs.
    ‘Like a Pimm’s?’
    ‘Oh, how delicious. Shall I come and help you make it?’
    For a moment David’s panic about dinner subsided. The Belvedons were always comparing people to characters in paintings. Now he had the fleeting pleasure of recognizing Rosemary Newton as the bouncy grey horse in Raphael’s St George and the Dragon .
    In the picture, the horse looked very secure, almost smug, as if he knew his master was a dab hand with a sword, and wouldn’t let the fierce dragon bite even a fetlock. Like Rosemary, he had merry, knowing, round, rather small eyes, a curly forelock, and a long white face capable of jauntiness but never beauty. From what he could see, Rosemary also had St George’s horse’s strong white cobby body. David guessed she was about twenty-nine.
    ‘So kind of them to invite us to kitchen sups,’ she was saying as she followed him into the kitchen. ‘Daddy so adores his sessions with Raymond.’ Then, seeing David’s face: ‘They forgot we were coming?’
    David deliberated.
    ‘Well, Mrs Belvedon’s been away too and someone’s torn off July from the calendar.’
    ‘I’ll help,’ said Rosemary, in her brisk Roedean voice. ‘I’ve been a chalet girl for the last three years. Let’s see what we can rustle up.
    ‘There’s a lovely sea trout in here,’ she said, opening the fridge. ‘I’ll gut it and take its head off.’ For a second she cradled the fish in her capable white hands. ‘It’ll take about forty minutes. Let’s see if we can find a fish kettle. We’ll need half a bottle of cheap white and lots of herbs from the garden. I know a quick mayonnaise which we can turn into sauce verte while the fish is cooking.’
    ‘I’ll dig up some potatoes,’ said David gratefully.
    ‘And get some mint too.’
    Rosemary was absolutely wonderful and when Jupiter and Alizarin staggered up to the kitchen door, bearing half Raymond’s herbaceous border to match David’s colour chart, she praised them to the skies. Then she averted Raymond and Robens’s wrath by putting the flowers in vases and decorating the dining-room table with the broken flower heads.
    ‘You’re both staying up for supper,’ she told the delighted boys.
    Judging by the laughter on the terrace, Galena was down again.
    ‘Raymond speak of you often, he tell me you are great collector and connoisseur,’ she was lying to Sir Mervyn.
    ‘I collect for the sheer pleasure of possessing beauty,’ Sir Mervyn lied back. ‘I’ve just bought your flower meadow. You stand in front of a picture like that, as Paul Mellon, a good friend of mine, is always saying, and you think: “And what is money?”’
    ‘Vot indeed?’ purred Galena. ‘I would love to meet Paul Mellon.’
    ‘I’m sure it can be arranged,’ said Mervyn warmly.
    Leaving them, Raymond found Rosemary and David in the kitchen.
    ‘Let it cool,’ Rosemary was saying as she lifted the sea trout out of the fish kettle, ‘and I’ll skin it. If you could chop up some cucumber, David.’
    ‘I’m so sorry