Nomance by T Price (ebook reader for manga TXT) 📗
- Author: T Price
Book online «Nomance by T Price (ebook reader for manga TXT) 📗». Author T Price
‘Hello there,’ he saidin a brisk, impersonal voice. His accent revealed him to be ofpurest upper-middle-class origins.
He was carrying a pairof bongos.
‘I’m afraid you can’tplay those here,’ Juliet told him as soon as she spotted them. ‘Theneighbours.’
Juliet’s crisp commandconfounded Justin. As a gentleman, he knew he must do as thehostess asked, but, you know, the bongos was an important prop inhis current image. He was at a loss. Philip stepped in adroitly andcommandeered him to help Tamsin dish up the salted snacks – thebongos had to take care of themselves.
Meanwhile, in onecorner, Phoebe launched into an enthusiastic conversation withLiam. She gushed about the bash she had thrown last week at herflat in Maida Vale. The lovely, but strange Elspeth Williams hadbeen there – the Elspeth Williams who was tipped for this year’sTurner Prize. Phoebe waxed lyrical about how Elspeth was working inthe media of “found” crisp packets.
From time to time,Juliet, who was listening, but pretending not to, noticed Liamglancing over towards Justin. That poor devil was busy emptyinglittle packets of salted snacks onto small, dainty dishes. PerhapsLiam felt sorry for him. More likely though, his emotion was one ofenvy. Liam did not want to hear about Elspeth’s “found” crisppackets. Those foil bags, whose ostensible function, once, had beento contain deep fried slivers of potato to be consumed betweenmeals, were now lacerating his artistic sensibilities, smotheringhis own work under a layer of actual garbage. Juliet wonderedwhether she ought go over, change the course of the conversationand relieve his distress a little. But she held back when it dawnedon her that Phoebe was making a play for the boy, despite havingarrived with Justin. Okay, Phoebe was very much going the wrong wayabout it. Juliet could all too readily imagine what Liam thoughtabout Elspeth Williams’ “found” crisp packets. Still, with anyluck, Phoebe would work that out by herself and leave the poor muttin peace.
More people werearriving. Juliet and Philip got them set up with drinks. Soon, thatcritical mass was achieved which differentiated a party from acollection of mere individuals, and at that point, and not a momentbefore, Helena Hursborg arrived.
She was wearing a darkbusiness suit and looked and acted just like a middle-aged memberof some local government interdepartmental committee. Juliet walkedwith her to the dining table where the buffet was laid out. Helenahad been far too busy all day to eat – she seemed to attendmeetings more often than she painted.
‘Do you like sushi?’Juliet asked.
‘Love it.’
‘We ordered it fromGinko’s.’
‘I adore Ginko’s.’Helena inspected Phoebe’s hideous candelabra for a moment, andlowering a voice a little, asked, ‘How is she?’
Juliet checked to seethat Phoebe wasn’t within range. ‘The latest round of therapy seemsto have worked,’ she said in a near whisper.
‘I warned her,’ Helenasaid, her rather deep voice adding to her solemnity. ‘Africa – allthose boils.’
‘But they stucktogether at the time, didn’t they? That’s what I find so odd. Itwas only months after they came back to Britain before she and Robsplit up.’
‘I’m not exactly surethe breakdown was about Rob. I sense it was because she simplycan’t make any headway as a working sculptor.’
‘But she won a majorcommission not so long back.’
‘Really?’ Helenacouldn’t have looked more surprised if Juliet had told her Phoebehad won a pair a stuffed giraffe. ‘I didn’t know that. Who was itfrom?’
‘Her parents.’
‘Ah.’
‘They asked for a pieceto stand in the forecourt of the family’s gas fire factory inPortugal.’
‘Oh yes?’ Helena beganto look over the sushi. ‘Did you see it, the piece?’
‘Just photographs. It’sa spine type thing, with sharp plates of metal instead ofribs.’
Helena paused to weighthis information and murmured her conclusion, ‘As if doing twelvehours in a gas fire factory weren’t bad enough.’
Nine: The Art of Exhibition
Carla had shutRomance early that day, unable to face any of hercustomers.
It seemed like they allknew something she didn’t. Like she had been experimented on andpresented a danger to their health.
But what abouther health? She was supposed to pick up another batch of thetablets that Gerald had prescribed for her. However, when she hadtaken the last one at dinner time, (after too many jars ofcomforting chilly pickle) she had noticed it had a strangeaftertaste. Somehow this fact had become fixed in her mind and, asthe afternoon wore on, she had come to realise that Gerald was amad doctor and he was using her as a guineapig in a grotesquemedical trial.
Carla had never felt soalone. Gerald was mad, Gwynne had left home, her customers were allagainst her, and Sharon was running a bar in Cyprus.
Who else could she turnto?
It was nine in theevening before Carla found Juliet and Philip’s house.
She closed her umbrellaand let it drop beside the steps, which led up to a large, stuccoedterraced villa, typical of those lining the squares off LadbrokeGrove. But having thus safely disposed of her umbrella, she seemedto run out of ideas. All she could do was stand and stare at thedoor.
It swept open and twomen appeared. They gave an immediate impression of youth that didnot, however, stand up to closer inspection. They looked back ather with amused and contemptuous interest. She was trying todifferentiate between them. It was quite amazing – they were almostidentical. Both sported glossy tans and had close-cropped, bleachedhair and a pampered, manicured look. They grinned at her now,producing shocking wrinkles around the eyes, and then they stoodaside, bowed and flourished in unison. ‘Greetings.’
Carla walked in.
‘Thank you.’
She turned to ask themwhere Juliet and Philip were, but they were already walking away,voices raised in merry excitement as they headed off into thenight.
Carla turned back,climbed the steep staircase and suddenly found she had stumbledinto a crowded room. She tried to
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