Forbidden Fruit (28 page)

What was that song about? It wasn’t the ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ of my childhood. Who was Sawney Beane? Sounded Scottish. I was just rinsing the last of the glacé ginger syrup off my hands, preparatory to googling all the names, when the singers knocked off for a rest, Daniel awoke hungry and we began to make dinner.

It was a lovely dinner. It is important, Meroe said, to enjoy good things when they happen, because otherwise you might miss them, and the Goddess would be displeased. Outside it was hot and humid, the screaming wind having departed. Inside it was cool. The sun was setting in cream, gold and blood orange streamers—sometimes nature has no taste. The chops were grilled so that the outsides were just a little burnt and the insides still pink. The mash was smooth and cheesy. The little Evian carrots reposed in their puddle of honey glaze. The rocket salad was bitter and restorative, leafed with slices of green apple and dressed with lemon juice and oil. I found steak knives and the pepper. We listened to Vaughan Williams as we ate. Lovely.

When I proudly brought out my trifle, Daniel groaned.

‘Oh, that’s too much!’

‘I know,’ I said. ‘But it’s impossible to make half a trifle. What say we share it?’

‘With whom?’ he asked. The freegans would be proud of his grammar, too. ‘Just a spoonful, please.’

‘Someone will turn up,’ I assured him. ‘If they don’t, I will carry it up to Jason.’

‘Maybe Bunny likes ginger,’ he agreed. He tasted. ‘Wonderful,’ he told me. He had a spoonful more. ‘Oh, by the way, I’ve found the chess man. The one who was playing chess with Brigid on the phone?’

‘Really?’ He didn’t seem to matter much now that we knew where the girl was. I said so.

‘On the contrary,’ said Daniel. He licked his spoon and laid it down. ‘Since I am assured that Manny is not the father of Brigid’s baby.’

‘What? Who assured you?’ I was astounded.

‘Manny and Brigid. Brigid refuses to tell anyone who the father is.’

I was so astounded that I didn’t reprove him for ending a sentence so inelegantly. Then I thought through the implications.

‘Oh, no, Daniel, you don’t think one of those vile reverends …’

‘Seems most probable, except I doubt that Brigid would protect them.’

‘She would if she thought they were going to claim the baby and take it away from her. Shiloh, Child of Peace, and all that.’

‘Indeed.’

‘But that means Manny has put his job and his safety in jeopardy all this time to help and protect her and she isn’t carrying his baby?’ I protested.

‘That’s so,’ said Daniel. The trifle, which had soured in my mouth at the thought of those rapist hypocrites, sweetened again.

‘He really is a good boy,’ I told Daniel.

‘And she really, really loves him,’ Daniel replied. ‘So, this chess player. He’s one of the singers. The extra tenor. Michael. He’s here tonight. Saw them outside.’

‘Then why don’t we ask them all in for dessert?’ I suggested. ‘Plenty of trifle and we can allow for Sarah.’

‘Perhaps Horatio will bite her,’ he laughed.

I hoped he would, but I knew that my aristocat would never soil his teeth on such as Sarah. Still, he might discomfort her. Cats were very good at that. I rang Jason and received a rapturous acceptance. Eating Jason’s food must have given them a high opinion of the Insula cuisine and I hoped I could live up to it.

They came in a group and spread themselves all over the parlour. They were hot and tired and a little hoarse. I got out the lemon cordial made to Grandma Chapman’s recipe and made jugs of icy drinks. Daniel got out the wine for those who indulged. Most did, except for Sarah, who lounged splendidly on the couch, long tanned legs over one arm, hair trailing. She was a stunning advertisement for a vegan diet. She refused trifle indignantly because it had cream and eggs in it, and I offered her a plate of (bought) gluten-free biscuits. They were also deliberately chosen—by me, with her in mind in case I ever had to feed her—as fruit-free, chocolate-free and taste-free. The others dived in enthusiastically. Bec licked her spoon with delight.

‘Fantastic!’ she said. ‘That hint of pineapple juice just takes the extra sweetness off the ginger syrup. The base is banana cake, isn’t it?’

I began to exchange recipes with Bec and Rupert, who liked cooking, and Janeen, Alexander and Michael, who liked eating.

Janeen, I noticed, was nibbling a little trifle, even though she too was a vegan, or so I understood. She smiled wearily at me, still small and meek.

‘Sometimes soy cream just isn’t the same,’ she told me. ‘And I’m going to be up all night at the hospital. I’m in emergency surgery—in the operating room,’ she said proudly.

‘Congratulations,’ I said.

‘It’s all life and death,’ she said in her small voice. ‘So I like singing and sometimes I award myself a treat.’

‘Works for the freegans,’ I said, pleased that my trifle had tempted away a true believer. Ancient Egyptian courtesans must have felt that about seducing the desert fathers. I have always believed that what tempted Saint Anthony was not a naked lady but a naked roast lamb. With mint sauce.

‘Sometimes I wish I could go back,’ she confessed. ‘They all have assumed names, you know. G’Kar, Vir, Nigel Moles-worth, Nikabrik, the Mouse, Jadis, Kryten, Sir Thursday, Miles Vorkosigan. Lord Powerscourt, Phryne Fisher, Prince Caspian, Gordiamus the Finder, Trufflehunter, Agatha Raisin, Anita Blake. Kay Harker, Mr Green, Father Brown, Roseanne, Henrietta and Katydid. Cat Chant and his boyfriend, Tonino. Even Lord D’Arcy, Angel and Belladonna, Princess of Cats. Vila, he could get through any fence or lock if he was scared enough. All our favourite characters. Can I have some more trifle?’

‘Certainly.’ I supplied some. The trifle was running out. But I had a lovely apricot crumble that just needed to be popped into the oven if the evening looked like extending. ‘What was your name?’

‘Xena,’ she said softly. Anyone more unlike the warrior princess could not be imagined, which was, of course, the reason for the aliases. I dared anyone to laugh but no one did. Rupert hugged Janeen. I knew him now. He wasn’t the dashing Prince
Rupert. He was Rupert Bear. So much more comfortable to have around the house. I gave him the last of the trifle.

Daniel had lured Michael, a tall, good-looking boy with a vaguely piratical air, to the chessboard for his opinion on a game he was playing with Kepler. Kepler was, of course, going to win. Kepler always did. The interest, Daniel told me, was watching how he managed it. I will never understand games. Why not read a book? The others began to talk about a new vegan restaurant and I eavesdropped on Michael and Daniel as best I could.

Horatio helped. He decided that the one person in the room who did not adore him was Sarah. On her an impression must be made. So he ascended the sofa, sat on her artfully displayed hair, and dug in all his claws. As long as she didn’t move, she was fine. If she jerked her head away, she might be bald. I think she was afraid of animals. She froze. I didn’t say a word and the others didn’t seem to notice. Content, perhaps, with not receiving another lecture on their own wickedness in eating my trifle, product of the arrogant exploitation of innocent chickens and cows.

‘They do an artichoke, brazil nut and tahini schnitzel that you just have to taste to believe,’ enthused Bec. ‘Orange ras-elhanout dressing with sesame seeds and roast beetroot.’

‘I loved the trifle—though this is also a very good trifle,’ said Rupert hastily. ‘It was, as I recall, made of rosehip, champagne and raspberry with honey and lavender ice cream. For some reason they had a lot left over. That was a very good night. So is this,’ he said, hoping that I was not offended.

‘No cook is offended by another cook’s skill,’ I said. ‘Or shouldn’t be. Eh, Jason?’

‘How do you make a schnitzel out of nuts?’ he asked.

While the group was explaining the process to Jason, I listened to Daniel and Michael.

‘You’re a good player,’ Daniel said.

Michael shrugged his shoulders. ‘I like chess. It’s unemotional. I mean, no one gets hurt and upset about chess.’

‘Is that why you played phone chess with Brigid?’

‘Do you know how she is?’ he asked eagerly. ‘Rupe says that she got to hospital and had the baby after all. And there was a baby, which I did wonder about.’

‘You did?’

‘Well, look, I never met her, not in person, I’ve got enough on my plate what with Bec and Sarah; keeping them both happy, I mean, takes a lot of energy. I didn’t need another girl. Ours was purely a chess relationship,’ he proclaimed.

Daniel must have raised an eyebrow. Michael took a long gulp of his lemon drink. Then he asked plaintively, ‘Look, have you got any beer, if we’re about to have a D&M?’

Daniel broke out the beer, more wine was poured, I stuck the apricot crumble into the oven, the room rearranged itself. Now the conversation had broken into three parts. One was Bec talking to Jason about vegan food. One was Rupert and me and Janeen. The choristers were all ignoring Sarah’s plight. I didn’t see that I should notice it until she asked for help. We sipped the crisp white wine.

‘Sometimes they all seem very young, don’t they?’ sighed Xena.

We three were keeping an ear on the D&M when Jason noticed Horatio’s prisoner and prepared to convince my imperious cat that loosing his claws from Sarah’s hair would be noblesse oblige. He lifted Horatio, correctly, forward, and unhooked the talons. Sarah, freed, sat up, shook her mistreated coiffure, screamed, ‘I hate you!’ at Jason, leapt to her feet and left. Abruptly. Slamming the door.

‘Ooh dear, temper, temper,’ said Rupert. ‘Now where are we going to get another soprano at this late date?’

‘Katie?’ suggested Bec. ‘It’s all right, Jason, she does that sometimes. We like to take her down a bit. She’s such a princess. Come and let’s reward this excellent companion animal.’

Jason, shocked, went along with Bec to show her where to find the cat treats. Bec and Sarah, both lovers of this gangling youth? You just never really do know about people.

Meanwhile the wine was good and the discussion about replacement sopranos was good cover. Michael had an Australian accent and a nice, soft voice.

‘I’ve got a mate who’s a maths teacher, I like playing chess, he gives my number two mobile number to people who like playing phone chess. It’s different from face to face, you get time to think about your moves. I’ve got four games on the phone at the moment. I don’t even know the gender of two of them. Playing on the internet you have to declare if you’re a girl and people can get nasty. You can get flamed. I used to sign myself in as a girl to flame the flamers as a public service. There’s some weird dudes in the chess world.’

He emptied the stubbie in one draught and took another.

Daniel sipped his beer and nodded.

‘So a phone game with one person is a good option for the shy ones. This one called herself Brigid from the start. So I knew she was a girl. Probably. See previous comment about weird dudes. Then we used to chat a bit, you know, after a month or so. She asked me what I did, I told her about Sarah and Bec, she told me about her shitful rels and crazy church—she needed someone to talk to, right?’

More beer went the way of the first stubbie. Daniel nodded again. This D&M process didn’t require him to say much, I noticed.

‘She was a good player!’ Michael exclaimed. ‘Fucking brilliant. Played like the best girl players, lots of aggression. I showed
one game to Bec and she said that Brigid was fierce and desperate. She’s clever, Bec.’

‘Yes,’ said Daniel.

‘Knows stuff, Bec does. Thinks. Now Sarah, she doesn’t think, she’s just sure she’s right, and if you argue with her, she flounces off or gets mad. She’s real dark on your Corinna. Nearly wet myself when she told her off in front of everyone just when she was getting into one of her raves.’

‘You don’t seem to like her much,’ Daniel commented.

Again the boy shrugged. And grabbed for more beer.

‘She’s been strange since she got into this vegan stuff, her and Janeen. But she’s too clingy to run with the freegans, like Rupert did. And she and Bec … I don’t know …’

‘Brigid?’ Daniel hinted, trying to get Michael back onto the topic.

‘Yeah, well, as I said, we used to chat a bit while she was thrashing me at chess, and she told me she was sick, and I asked what was wrong. And she said she seemed to be pregnant, had no idea how it happened. I thought, why do I always end up with crazy chicks? Sorry. Ladies. Women. Like I said, I never met her.’

‘Indeed,’ said Daniel.

‘Got enough trouble,’ mumbled Michael, and drank more beer. I was glad I had laid in supplies of light, or we were going to be carrying Michael home.

‘What’s a D&M?’ I asked Rupert.

‘Deep and Meaningful,’ he told me. ‘I’m a little worried about Michael. Too much success with women, too soon. Not good for such a young man.’

‘If Bec heard what he just said, and relays it to Sarah,’ I replied, ‘I think success is going to be the least of his troubles in the near future.’

‘We will have to replace her, and if we have to replace Bec as well it would be better to find a less … complicated set of relationships,’ he agreed.

The apricot crumble was eaten. Herbal tea, cherry brandy and coffee was drunk. The choristers departed, issuing an invitation to attend rehearsal in the roof garden and a promise of a return feast to come. Jason went with them.

The room was suddenly empty except for a lot of cups and glasses and beer bottles. I gathered them all up for washing while Horatio sat on the couch and purred. There was a strand of golden hair caught in his front claws.

‘Pleased with yourself, eh?’ I asked him as I straightened the couch around him.

He purred a brief agreement.

‘Well, that was illuminating,’ said Daniel.

‘But not agreeable in conclusion,’ I said.

‘Yes. I’m pretty sure that Michael isn’t the father, and he was the only outside candidate. Sean dumped her because she wouldn’t kiss him.’

‘Bummer,’ I sympathised. ‘Let’s leave the washing up and go to bed.’