A Cast of Falcons by Phillip Parotti

Author:Phillip Parotti
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781636240893
Publisher: Casemate
Published: 2021-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

The Winslows’ flat, located on the third floor of a spacious and rather attractive Parisian-style apartment block and with a balcony overlooking the Nile, was not far from the British residency. When Dev showed up there shortly before eight o’clock that evening, he was admitted by an Egyptian butler of sober mien who deposited his cap on a table in the foyer and then took the roses he carried, a full dozen, before turning them over to a houseboy, who quickly placed them into a vase and followed behind the butler as the man led Dev to the sliding doors of a drawing room and announced him.

Inside, Mrs. Winslow, as Dev knew she would, welcomed him graciously, thanked him for the flowers that the houseboy carried, and then introduced him around—first to the Hortons, Mr. and Mrs., from Philadelphia, Mr. Horton representing a shipping firm which specialized in supplying the British in Egypt with everything from agricultural beef products to munitions. A Mr. Tolliver and his wife apparently hailed from Virginia—Norfolk to be exact—Mr. Tolliver’s firm helping to supply the tobacco which the troops most like to smoke. Unlike Dev, who had come in his uniform, the guests were more formally dressed, the men wearing dinner jackets, the women wearing gowns, and as he was introduced to them and presented with a whiskey, Dev could not help noticing that Miss Lily Winslow appeared to be nowhere in sight.

When Lily did arrive, finally, after Dev had had time to exchange a few words with each of the couples to whom he’d been introduced, Dev felt his pulse quicken. Lily Winslow, he saw at once, really was a rather beautiful girl, the emerald-green gown in which she appeared setting off perfectly the tint of her hair, all of it piled above her, washerwoman style, so as to show off her delicately featured face.

“I see you’ve had no trouble finding us,” she said to Dev as she came forward and shook his hand.

“No,” Dev said. “Perfect location for access to the residency, I imagine.”

“Perfect,” Lily said. “Easy walk for Dad, and he seems to confer with the particular minsters engaged in finance at frequent intervals. Much better there than at the bank, if you see what I mean.”

Dev saw and said so.

When it came time for dinner, Dev took Lily in, the two of them seated across from one another at the foot of a table that was not so wide that it discouraged conversation. Neither of them desisted from speaking with the others at the table and joining in the round of general subjects that were discussed. But as the dinner proceeded—one that featured a curry that Dev found utterly delightful and for which, he found, Mrs. Winslow’s cook had become justly famous—he and Lily nevertheless drifted into more and more semi-private conversation, Lily initiating the talk by asking him if he had gone to college in the States and where.

“Rutgers,” Dev replied. “Mechanical Engineering.”

“I thought you might be an engineer,” Lily smiled.

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