our lunch was served.
“Oh, dear,” fussed the steward. “I don’t know what to do with you all. This is most awkward.”
“The American gentleman may sit here, if he wishes,” said Lady Antonia, gesturing with one gloved hand to a space beside Miss Chivers. “I shall not raise any objection.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“I trust he does not chew with his mouth open, nor slurp his soup.”
“No, ma’am,” I said, my republican self-respect rising at this shocking display of old-world rudeness. “Nor does he swing from the trees, nor eat with his hands.” I sat beside Chivers, who uttered a barely audible “Oh, dear!” and stared out the window at the dank brickwork.
Well, I was not going to let that old gorgon spoil my lunch—I was hungry, and when I’m hungry very little stands between my and my food. The steward served the fish, and it smelled delicious; how on earth they had managed to cook during such adverse conditions was beyond me. But there it was, a delicate, juicy fillet of sole, fragrant and steaming, with a slice of lemon and some brown bread and butter, just waiting to be devoured. My mouth watered as I speared the first piece
of flesh on my fork and brought it toward my mouth…
And then, quite suddenly, the train took a violent lurch forward, causing the fish to fly off my fork and onto Lady Antonia’s chest, where it lodged among her pearls. Drinks flew in all directions, the steward stumbled, dumping another plate of fish over Mr. Andrews’s head, and the little girls set up an earsplitting wail.
“What the fuck!” I yelled, before remembering myself.
The movement stopped, and started again suddenly, as if we were being shunted from behind. It was a sickening sensation. And then, just as I began to fear that a collision of some sort was inevitable, the engine lurched again and began to pull us forward. The tunnel fell away on either side, and we were in daylight once again. Despite the buffeting that we had all taken, we were greatly heartened by being in the open air. Snow was still falling, whirling around the windows, and the ground was covered by a good inch, which shone brightly even in the failing winter light.
“At last!” said Frankie. “We’re on the move again. Maybe we will reach London today after all.”
“Would someone kindly tell me what is going on?” said Lady Antonia, for all the world as if this were a conspiracy against her personally. “This is most inconvenient.” She was unaware of the large flake of sole which was dangling from her pearl necklace. Chivers, on the other hand, seemed hypnotized by it.
“Don’t sit there gawping, girl, go and see to our cases. I should not be at all surprised if they were smashed to smithereens, and my personal effects are being fingered by urchins from the third-class carriages.” She pronounced the word in a way I had never heard before: keddiges.
Chivers hurried away, gripping the seat edges as she went, fearful of falling should the train lurch again.
Young Mr. Andrews picked bits of fish out of his hair, and mopped fragrant, fishy juices from his neck; he was
going to need a bath as soon as we got to London, and was going to smell very unpleasant in the interim. The steward was doing his best to mop up the sea of wine and cocktails that was slopping over the tabletop.
“I’m so sorry, ladies and gentlemen. So sorry. Oh, my goodness. Oh, dear.” I felt sorry for the poor old thing, and gave him a hand, and within a minute or two we had tidied up the worst of the mess.
“Luncheon is ruined,” moaned the steward, almost in tears. “The chicken… All over the floor…”
“Bring us bread and cheese and bottles of wine!” commanded Lady Antonia, and for once I was in agreement with her.
We were making slow progress along the track; at this rate we would reach London in about three days. Where was the conductor? What was going on? Why was nobody keeping us informed?
I stuffed a hunk of bread and
“Oh, dear,” fussed the steward. “I don’t know what to do with you all. This is most awkward.”
“The American gentleman may sit here, if he wishes,” said Lady Antonia, gesturing with one gloved hand to a space beside Miss Chivers. “I shall not raise any objection.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“I trust he does not chew with his mouth open, nor slurp his soup.”
“No, ma’am,” I said, my republican self-respect rising at this shocking display of old-world rudeness. “Nor does he swing from the trees, nor eat with his hands.” I sat beside Chivers, who uttered a barely audible “Oh, dear!” and stared out the window at the dank brickwork.
Well, I was not going to let that old gorgon spoil my lunch—I was hungry, and when I’m hungry very little stands between my and my food. The steward served the fish, and it smelled delicious; how on earth they had managed to cook during such adverse conditions was beyond me. But there it was, a delicate, juicy fillet of sole, fragrant and steaming, with a slice of lemon and some brown bread and butter, just waiting to be devoured. My mouth watered as I speared the first piece
of flesh on my fork and brought it toward my mouth…
And then, quite suddenly, the train took a violent lurch forward, causing the fish to fly off my fork and onto Lady Antonia’s chest, where it lodged among her pearls. Drinks flew in all directions, the steward stumbled, dumping another plate of fish over Mr. Andrews’s head, and the little girls set up an earsplitting wail.
“What the fuck!” I yelled, before remembering myself.
The movement stopped, and started again suddenly, as if we were being shunted from behind. It was a sickening sensation. And then, just as I began to fear that a collision of some sort was inevitable, the engine lurched again and began to pull us forward. The tunnel fell away on either side, and we were in daylight once again. Despite the buffeting that we had all taken, we were greatly heartened by being in the open air. Snow was still falling, whirling around the windows, and the ground was covered by a good inch, which shone brightly even in the failing winter light.
“At last!” said Frankie. “We’re on the move again. Maybe we will reach London today after all.”
“Would someone kindly tell me what is going on?” said Lady Antonia, for all the world as if this were a conspiracy against her personally. “This is most inconvenient.” She was unaware of the large flake of sole which was dangling from her pearl necklace. Chivers, on the other hand, seemed hypnotized by it.
“Don’t sit there gawping, girl, go and see to our cases. I should not be at all surprised if they were smashed to smithereens, and my personal effects are being fingered by urchins from the third-class carriages.” She pronounced the word in a way I had never heard before: keddiges.
Chivers hurried away, gripping the seat edges as she went, fearful of falling should the train lurch again.
Young Mr. Andrews picked bits of fish out of his hair, and mopped fragrant, fishy juices from his neck; he was
going to need a bath as soon as we got to London, and was going to smell very unpleasant in the interim. The steward was doing his best to mop up the sea of wine and cocktails that was slopping over the tabletop.
“I’m so sorry, ladies and gentlemen. So sorry. Oh, my goodness. Oh, dear.” I felt sorry for the poor old thing, and gave him a hand, and within a minute or two we had tidied up the worst of the mess.
“Luncheon is ruined,” moaned the steward, almost in tears. “The chicken… All over the floor…”
“Bring us bread and cheese and bottles of wine!” commanded Lady Antonia, and for once I was in agreement with her.
We were making slow progress along the track; at this rate we would reach London in about three days. Where was the conductor? What was going on? Why was nobody keeping us informed?
I stuffed a hunk of bread and
Similar Books
