again.’
‘Keep out of it,’ I said.
Quickman tore the cap from his
ayran
and took a gulp. When he lowered the pot, there was a milk-white film on his moustache. ‘What I don’t quite understand,’ he said,
padding off the liquid with a napkin, ‘is why you feel so obliged to help the lad. He doesn’t even have the good grace to show up for dinner. Not to mention the fact that he hustled me
out of my father’s lighter. I’d quite like that thing back, by the way. But that’s not the point. I’m not going to get dragged into someone else’s creative problems.
I’ve got enough of my own.’
‘He’s just a boy,’ I said. ‘You should have seen him, earlier, scribbling away on his notecards. If you could just let him know if it’s actually Japanese, that
would be a start.’
Quickman carved up his food. ‘Why can’t you leave him alone? That seems to be what he wants.’
‘Because there’s alone and there’s
alone
.’
‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Explain to me the difference again.’
Pettifer shifted forwards. ‘I know a bit of Japanese myself,’ he said.
‘The difference, Q, is he’s only seventeen, and when you’re that age all you really need is someone to—’ I was so used to ignoring Tif’s interjections that it
took a moment for my brain to engage. ‘Sorry, did you just say that you speak Japanese?’
Pettifer shrugged his eyebrows. ‘Well, sort of. I can read
hiragana
, anyway. I’m not brilliant with
kanji
, but I could probably give him the gist.’
I was so overcome with gladness that I almost leaned over and hugged him. ‘Tif, you gorgeous, brilliant thing—I should have known.’
‘It’s these ravishing good looks, you see. They obscure my intellect.’
‘Of course they do.’ I blew him a kiss.
At once, Quickman became interested in the conversation. He put his fork down and gave Tif a querying look. ‘
Doko de nihongo wo narattandai?
’ he said.
Pettifer nodded thoughtfully. ‘
Nihon de shibaraku hataraki-mashita.
’
‘
D ā kuh ō su dana.
’
‘
Chigauyo. Futotta buta dayo.
’
‘
S ō dana!’
It was quite disconcerting to hear another language emerging from the lips of two people I knew so well. ‘OK, that settles it,’ I said. ‘You’re
both
going to
help him.’
Quickman stabbed at his dinner. ‘He’ll have to give my lighter back first.’
‘I’m sure he’d be happy to trade.’
‘My father died with that thing in his hand, you know. I should never have bet with it.’
‘You could always try and win it back.’
‘I plan to. Just as soon as I’ve reviewed my strategy.’
‘Oi, you two. Get a load of this,’ Pettifer said, gesturing to the kitchen pass. ‘Mac’s talking to those transients again. We should rescue her.’ MacKinney did
appear to be standing in close counsel with Gluck, which would not have been such a grave misfortune in itself, had the irritating Spaniard not also been with him. ‘Is it me, or does she seem
to be enjoying their company?’
It was true: she was laughing, and not in the hollow fashion we had come to recognise, but in that wonderful, resounding way that we had not heard for some time. I was glad that she was smiling
again, even if I felt resentful of her sudden bonhomie with the short-termers.
‘Crikey,’ said Quickman. ‘This place is going to ruin.’
Mac’s face was still flushed by the time she came over to join us at the table a while later. As she sat down, a residue of laughter came out of her nose, like steam releasing. ‘Oh
Lord, that was seriously funny,’ she said. ‘Did you know that Lindo did impressions? I haven’t laughed so much in ages.’
‘Yes, we could hear you cackling from here,’ Quickman said.
Pettifer gave his little snort. ‘Who’s Lindo?’
‘The Spanish fellow. He’s actually quite lovely. It’s a shame we wrote him off so early.’
‘You know, she’s right,’ Quickman said. ‘We’ve been lacking a decent impressionist for a while
‘Keep out of it,’ I said.
Quickman tore the cap from his
ayran
and took a gulp. When he lowered the pot, there was a milk-white film on his moustache. ‘What I don’t quite understand,’ he said,
padding off the liquid with a napkin, ‘is why you feel so obliged to help the lad. He doesn’t even have the good grace to show up for dinner. Not to mention the fact that he hustled me
out of my father’s lighter. I’d quite like that thing back, by the way. But that’s not the point. I’m not going to get dragged into someone else’s creative problems.
I’ve got enough of my own.’
‘He’s just a boy,’ I said. ‘You should have seen him, earlier, scribbling away on his notecards. If you could just let him know if it’s actually Japanese, that
would be a start.’
Quickman carved up his food. ‘Why can’t you leave him alone? That seems to be what he wants.’
‘Because there’s alone and there’s
alone
.’
‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Explain to me the difference again.’
Pettifer shifted forwards. ‘I know a bit of Japanese myself,’ he said.
‘The difference, Q, is he’s only seventeen, and when you’re that age all you really need is someone to—’ I was so used to ignoring Tif’s interjections that it
took a moment for my brain to engage. ‘Sorry, did you just say that you speak Japanese?’
Pettifer shrugged his eyebrows. ‘Well, sort of. I can read
hiragana
, anyway. I’m not brilliant with
kanji
, but I could probably give him the gist.’
I was so overcome with gladness that I almost leaned over and hugged him. ‘Tif, you gorgeous, brilliant thing—I should have known.’
‘It’s these ravishing good looks, you see. They obscure my intellect.’
‘Of course they do.’ I blew him a kiss.
At once, Quickman became interested in the conversation. He put his fork down and gave Tif a querying look. ‘
Doko de nihongo wo narattandai?
’ he said.
Pettifer nodded thoughtfully. ‘
Nihon de shibaraku hataraki-mashita.
’
‘
D ā kuh ō su dana.
’
‘
Chigauyo. Futotta buta dayo.
’
‘
S ō dana!’
It was quite disconcerting to hear another language emerging from the lips of two people I knew so well. ‘OK, that settles it,’ I said. ‘You’re
both
going to
help him.’
Quickman stabbed at his dinner. ‘He’ll have to give my lighter back first.’
‘I’m sure he’d be happy to trade.’
‘My father died with that thing in his hand, you know. I should never have bet with it.’
‘You could always try and win it back.’
‘I plan to. Just as soon as I’ve reviewed my strategy.’
‘Oi, you two. Get a load of this,’ Pettifer said, gesturing to the kitchen pass. ‘Mac’s talking to those transients again. We should rescue her.’ MacKinney did
appear to be standing in close counsel with Gluck, which would not have been such a grave misfortune in itself, had the irritating Spaniard not also been with him. ‘Is it me, or does she seem
to be enjoying their company?’
It was true: she was laughing, and not in the hollow fashion we had come to recognise, but in that wonderful, resounding way that we had not heard for some time. I was glad that she was smiling
again, even if I felt resentful of her sudden bonhomie with the short-termers.
‘Crikey,’ said Quickman. ‘This place is going to ruin.’
Mac’s face was still flushed by the time she came over to join us at the table a while later. As she sat down, a residue of laughter came out of her nose, like steam releasing. ‘Oh
Lord, that was seriously funny,’ she said. ‘Did you know that Lindo did impressions? I haven’t laughed so much in ages.’
‘Yes, we could hear you cackling from here,’ Quickman said.
Pettifer gave his little snort. ‘Who’s Lindo?’
‘The Spanish fellow. He’s actually quite lovely. It’s a shame we wrote him off so early.’
‘You know, she’s right,’ Quickman said. ‘We’ve been lacking a decent impressionist for a while
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