Brond by Frederic Lindsay

Author:Frederic Lindsay [Lindsay, Frederic]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780857902009
Publisher: Polygon

ELEVEN

There was a smell of frying bacon and since it was an illusion I kept my eyes shut, not wanting to be disappointed. Thoughts of the middle of the night ebbed into the forebrain. By cautious fractions, I stretched in the bed.

I was alone.

‘You’re awake then,’ a measured cheerful voice asserted. ‘You’re a good sleeper when you start.’

Reluctantly I peeped out of one eye. Margaret was bending over the cooker turning something in a frying pan. She had found a kettle, too, and a wisp of steam plumed merrily into the air. It was a scene of pleasing domesticity. I rechecked my memories of the night and clenched the eye shut again.

‘It’s a beautiful morning,’ she said. ‘The sun’s splitting the stones.’

I could hear the spatter of fat. Despite myself, my mouth began to water.

‘That can’t be bacon. Where would you have got it?’

Her laugh, like every sound and move she made, was music.

‘I found a little corner shop. There’s ham and eggs and coffee. And he had rolls. Do you like rolls?’

‘What could be nicer?’ I said, keeping my eyes shut.

‘There’s butter with them,’ she said coaxingly.

I put my forearm over my eyes.

‘Come on!’ she said. ‘It’ll spoil if it has to wait.’

If only, I fretted, she had thought about that during the night.

‘Chuck me over my clothes,’ I said.

‘In a minute. Do you like your eggs turned?’

Flesh and blood could stand no more. Resolutely I put back the blankets and stood up.

‘Sweet God!’ she said. ‘I hope you’re not one of those exhibitionists.’

With more awkwardness than grace, I progressed to where she had piled my clothes neatly on the edge of the table. Among her other virtues she seemed to be house-proud. I got into my underpants with difficulty. She could not resist another glance over.

‘No need to peek,’ I said. ‘It hasn’t recovered from the mauling you gave it last night.’

‘Oh, now,’ she said seriously, ‘don’t talk like that or I won’t think well of you.’

‘Turn them!’

‘What?’ she asked in fright.

‘The eggs – I like them done both sides.’

Fat hissed as she tipped them over.

‘I fried them in butter.’

‘You’ll give me a coronary one way or the other.’

Dressed, I came over and had a look.

‘You should fry bacon on a dry pan,’ I said.

‘Don’t be silly.’

‘It’s true. A dry pan – heat the bacon and slant the pan. Press the fat out as it fries. Makes the crispest bacon you could eat.’

‘I suppose you’ll manage this though.’

She sounded offended. I began to feel better. To tell the truth, I began to feel unreasonably cheerful. We had two eggs each as well as the bacon. She was a good eater. There wasn’t much talking until we had finished.

‘I’m going to be coarse again,’ I said.

She looked relieved when I scrubbed the plate with the buttery end of the last roll.

‘Run out and get the same again, would you?’ I licked pale flaky crumbs from the wet tip of my finger.

‘Are you still hungry? Would you like something else?’

There

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