smoky like her own, and Ingrid
lent her a cashmere sweater from Chanel, with big pearl buttons.
'Lamb dressed as mutton,' her mother said laughing when Kitty walked into her bathroom. 'You look glorious. But not for every
day, OK?' A whip of concern passed over her brow.
'I know, I know,' Kitty said, rolling her eyes. 'Do you want me to scrub your back?'
'Yes please.'
'What do you want to be when you grow up?' the frightening writer boomed at Kitty.
'I'd like to be a writer, or a lady of leisure like Mummy,' Kitty said.
The table laughed. She was embarrassed.
'Your mother is not a lady of leisure,' the writer said. 'She is a very important artist.'
'I know,' Kitty said slowly. 'I should have said that because that's what I was thinking. It's just that she does lovely leisurely
things, and she makes people laugh, and she's beautiful. That's what I meant by a lady of leisure.'
'You should think before you speak,' the writer said. She had dirty fingernails.
'Oh relax, Josephina . . . She's being sweet. I know what you meant, Kit, it was a darling thing to say.'
Kitty smiled in relief. Her mother came over and touched the top of her head with a soft palm.
Ingrid and Kitty were happily eating Nora's French toast at the dining-room table when Elsie came down in her linen pyjamas.
'Tell me,' Elsie said immediately, giving Ingrid a beady stare.
'Tell you what? There's nothing to tell.'
'I know there is. I know you snogged him. I tell you everything, and I normally have much more to tell. You're being unfair.'
'Who? Who did she snog? Nick the actor?' Kitty clamoured.
'I'm trying to read the paper. Be quiet.' Ingrid winked at her.
Her mother walked in, clutching her silk dressing gown around her. She had chopsticks in her hair to hold it back.
'Ingrid kissed that man, and she won't tell me,' Elsie said to her mother.
'Oh leave her alone, darling. Now I need my coffee, and then I'm going to meditate.' Marina seemed distracted.
Elsie looked around the dining room, which was painted a Georgian blue, with high white corniced ceilings, and she said, 'You're
no fun any more, Marina, do you know that? I can't believe you won't get it out of her, you can get secrets from a stone,
and stop pretending you're not interested in sex; it's very clear you and that boy George are doing it, which is really prevy
of you.'
'He sees me as a mother figure. Kitty, have you seen my prayer mat?' her mother said, as though she were having a different
conversation entirely. Kitty thought it was clever.
'You've become all boring and SPIRITUAL,' Elsie said sadly.
'You really have, Marina.' Ingrid looked up from her paper. 'Sort of . . . rich and spiritual,' she added.
'I haven't! I'm not rich! I'm fun! I'm very fun, ask anyone!' Her mother sounded like a little girl protesting. Ingrid and
Elsie looked at her dubiously. She lit up one of Ingrid's Gauloises, and took a long voluptuous puff.
'Fine. I'll take a meditation sabbatical for the length of your visit. You spiritual saboteurs! I am not boring. I am having
an affair with George, if you must know, not that it's any of your business. I have been for some time, he's sweet. Now, Ingrid,
did you kiss Nick the actor?' She was breathless and giddy.
'Yes. I did,' Ingrid said.
'Kitty, do you want the day off school so you can spend time with your wicked wanton aunts?' her mother said, ruffling her
hair.
'Definitely,' Kitty said. She lived in a house of carnal intrigue, this much was clear.
* * *
'Don't leave,' she said to Elsie, who was packing. 'If you stay then it will be like it was before. All of us together.'
'We have to go. We've got jobs now. I had such a lovely time with you though, and we'll come again. Everyone will make up,
and we can bring Mama and Dad.'
'What would they DO here? It's too noisy, they wouldn't like it.' Kitty stared out of the window morosely.
'Dad would build some shelves, and Mama would hide the paper. They'd see you and the
lent her a cashmere sweater from Chanel, with big pearl buttons.
'Lamb dressed as mutton,' her mother said laughing when Kitty walked into her bathroom. 'You look glorious. But not for every
day, OK?' A whip of concern passed over her brow.
'I know, I know,' Kitty said, rolling her eyes. 'Do you want me to scrub your back?'
'Yes please.'
'What do you want to be when you grow up?' the frightening writer boomed at Kitty.
'I'd like to be a writer, or a lady of leisure like Mummy,' Kitty said.
The table laughed. She was embarrassed.
'Your mother is not a lady of leisure,' the writer said. 'She is a very important artist.'
'I know,' Kitty said slowly. 'I should have said that because that's what I was thinking. It's just that she does lovely leisurely
things, and she makes people laugh, and she's beautiful. That's what I meant by a lady of leisure.'
'You should think before you speak,' the writer said. She had dirty fingernails.
'Oh relax, Josephina . . . She's being sweet. I know what you meant, Kit, it was a darling thing to say.'
Kitty smiled in relief. Her mother came over and touched the top of her head with a soft palm.
Ingrid and Kitty were happily eating Nora's French toast at the dining-room table when Elsie came down in her linen pyjamas.
'Tell me,' Elsie said immediately, giving Ingrid a beady stare.
'Tell you what? There's nothing to tell.'
'I know there is. I know you snogged him. I tell you everything, and I normally have much more to tell. You're being unfair.'
'Who? Who did she snog? Nick the actor?' Kitty clamoured.
'I'm trying to read the paper. Be quiet.' Ingrid winked at her.
Her mother walked in, clutching her silk dressing gown around her. She had chopsticks in her hair to hold it back.
'Ingrid kissed that man, and she won't tell me,' Elsie said to her mother.
'Oh leave her alone, darling. Now I need my coffee, and then I'm going to meditate.' Marina seemed distracted.
Elsie looked around the dining room, which was painted a Georgian blue, with high white corniced ceilings, and she said, 'You're
no fun any more, Marina, do you know that? I can't believe you won't get it out of her, you can get secrets from a stone,
and stop pretending you're not interested in sex; it's very clear you and that boy George are doing it, which is really prevy
of you.'
'He sees me as a mother figure. Kitty, have you seen my prayer mat?' her mother said, as though she were having a different
conversation entirely. Kitty thought it was clever.
'You've become all boring and SPIRITUAL,' Elsie said sadly.
'You really have, Marina.' Ingrid looked up from her paper. 'Sort of . . . rich and spiritual,' she added.
'I haven't! I'm not rich! I'm fun! I'm very fun, ask anyone!' Her mother sounded like a little girl protesting. Ingrid and
Elsie looked at her dubiously. She lit up one of Ingrid's Gauloises, and took a long voluptuous puff.
'Fine. I'll take a meditation sabbatical for the length of your visit. You spiritual saboteurs! I am not boring. I am having
an affair with George, if you must know, not that it's any of your business. I have been for some time, he's sweet. Now, Ingrid,
did you kiss Nick the actor?' She was breathless and giddy.
'Yes. I did,' Ingrid said.
'Kitty, do you want the day off school so you can spend time with your wicked wanton aunts?' her mother said, ruffling her
hair.
'Definitely,' Kitty said. She lived in a house of carnal intrigue, this much was clear.
* * *
'Don't leave,' she said to Elsie, who was packing. 'If you stay then it will be like it was before. All of us together.'
'We have to go. We've got jobs now. I had such a lovely time with you though, and we'll come again. Everyone will make up,
and we can bring Mama and Dad.'
'What would they DO here? It's too noisy, they wouldn't like it.' Kitty stared out of the window morosely.
'Dad would build some shelves, and Mama would hide the paper. They'd see you and the
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