They were getting tea from Sheila.
No alcohol. Earl Grey and Peek
Freens. Digestives. Plain.
Bill and Persimmon were not likely to overstay. “This is such a beautiful house”, Persimmon
had exclaimed for the third or fourth time this evening. “It’s a shame you’re selling it.” Bill, for the third or fourth time, answered
that of course she was selling it. It’s
haunted. They occupied the couch, but
this evening there was a comfortable distance between them. They weren’t even holding hands.
“Who’s this young
man who’s staying here now?” Bill asked.
“A friend of
Michael’s.”
“A FRIEND of
Michael’s, you say?”
“Yes’, Sheila
answered curtly.
“And where is your
son?”
“He just returned
to the Island.”
“So he’s found
religion, or what?”
“He seems to be
finding something.”
“Perhaps he’s
finding himself”, Persimmon said.
“Yes. I’m sure he’s finding that too”, Sheila
replied patiently.
“That other fellow
who was staying here, is he there too?”
“Glen? Yes, he is.”
“And your son’s
other friend, that older guy?”
“Matthew. It all
started with him.”
“I can’t get over
it—all these queers getting religion!
What is this world coming to?”
“Should it matter
that they’re gay?” Sheila said tersely.
“Hey, no need to
get defensive”, Bill said, smiling with his look of “please don’t hit me!”
charm.
“But you bring it
up a lot—my son’s sexuality, I mean. I
think it’s time you left off.”
“Sorry Sheila”, he
said still smiling, “I didn’t know you were taking this so personally.”
“It’s
wearisome. And it shouldn’t matter to
you, anyway.”
“Okay, fine.
Persimmon said,
following a few seconds’ awkward silence, “Did you hear that Letitia Van Smit
is missing?”
“Letitia—“
“I did an interview
with her last month. She’s that welfare
verification officer.”
“I’ll bet a bunch
of activists kidnapped her or something”, Bill said. “Too bad.
She was saving the taxpayers a lot of money.
“I thought she was
an obnoxious bitch”, Persimmon said. “I actually hope that’s what happened to
her.”
“I met her
once. Gorgeous!” Bill said with the
dramatic flourish of a trucker savouring a jelly donut.
“I see her as a
symptom of a very frightening, encroaching type of economic fascism”, Persimmon
said with pronounced distaste.
“Hey, take it easy
girl”, Bill said, reaching for a Peak Freen.
“Why don’t you go
fuck yourself!” Persimmon spat.
“Order in the
court!” Sheila pronounced blandly.
“Sorry”, Persimmon
said, blushing.
“I wouldn’t worry,
dear, I’ve often wanted to say that to him myself.”
“Hey, wait a
minute!” Bill said.
“More tea,
Persimmon?” Sheila said.
“Oh yes. Earl Grey is my favourite. Is it Twinings?”
“It is, dear. Bill?”
“No thanks.” He was sulking. “I was actually thinking we should probably
go soon. Persimmon?”
“If Sheila doesn’t
mind, I think I’d like to stay a while longer.”
“Well, I think we
should be going.”
“Well, go
then. I’d like to stay. Sheila?”
“By all means, the
night is young.”
“Persimmon, let’s
be reasonable.”
“I want to see
Sheila alone.”
“And you’re not
doing any such thing.”
“You’re afraid
we’re going to talk about you. Aren’t
you? Women teaming up against their common enemy, Man. Well, Bill, we are going to talk about you,
but only for a little while because you are not that important, and we’re bound
to find some more interesting topics of discussion before very long.”
“Then I think I’m
going to stay a bit longer.”
“Bill”, Sheila
said, “I think it’s time for you to leave.”
“You’re throwing me
out?”
“I probably am,
since you’re not about to leave willingly.
But I do want to visit alone with Persimmon. Do you mind?”
“Yes, I do mind.”
“Well, that’s just
tough. You can have your turn with me in
a day or two, if you like. In the
meantime, goodbye.”
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