Rates of Exchange by Malcolm Bradbury

Author:Malcolm Bradbury [Bradbury, Malcolm]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
ISBN: 9781447222781
Publisher: Pan Macmillan

II

‘Yes, I have, I have, my dear Mr Petworth,’ says Budgie Steadiman, putting her arm through Petworth’s and leading him toward a settee, ‘And now come and tell me what you think of Slaka.’ ‘What time are we expecting the other guests, darling?’ asks Steadiman, standing in the corner. ‘Eight-thirty,’ says Budgie, ‘You know I wanted a little time to myself with Mr Petworth. You see, Mr Petworth, I wanted to find out if you were as charming as I’d hoped.’ ‘I’m afraid it’s not very likely,’ says Petworth. ‘Oh, are you modest?’ asks Budgie Steadiman, ‘Please, first impressions are quite in your favour. Now, come and sit down here with me on the sofa, and we’ll go on to second ones. Felix will get you a drink.’ ‘Perhaps you’d care for a pee,’ says Steadiman, ‘Care for a pee a peach brandy?’ ‘It’s not to be missed,’ says Budgie. ‘I seem to have had rather a lot of that today,’ says Petworth, ‘They entertained me to an official lunch.’ ‘Oh, those things,’ says Budgie, ‘Sudden death.’ ‘Well, how about a sort of piss a sort of Piesporter?’ asks Steadiman, who has opened the Kurdish camel-driver’s trunks, to display an exotic quantity of diplomatic liquor. ‘It’s a nice dry white wine they make here,’ says Budgie, ‘I do recommend it for loosening the inhibitions.’ ‘Very well, I’ll try that,’ says Petworth. ‘Excuse me a moment,’ says Steadiman, holding up a bottle, ‘I’ll just have to go to the kitchen and ask Magda for a screw.’ ‘Of course, you do that, darling,’ says Budgie Steadiman, throwing out her hand in a careless gesture, so that it lands by some chance on Petworth’s knee, ‘And meanwhile dear Mr Petworth can tell me everything there is to know about his fascinating day.’ ‘It wasn’t enormously fascinating,’ says Petworth, ‘I had a very large lunch and I saw Grigoric’s tomb.’ ‘Well, of course,’ says Budgie, ‘They always do. I’m afraid I never did understand the pleasure it’s supposed to give. But then I never liked Madame Tussaud’s either.’

Budgie Steadiman’s loose muu-muu dress seems to be growing progressively looser; she smiles at Petworth warmly. ‘Well, tell me what you think of Slaka,’ she says, ‘Tell me what you have made of it.’ ‘It seems very pleasant,’ says Petworth. ‘Slaka, city of art and music, bugs and spies,’ says Budgie, ‘I suppose discretion has been urged on you? You’ve been warned that walls have ears, windows have eyes, that the maid flashes signals to the security police with her stockings?’ ‘So I gather,’ says Petworth. ‘Yes, the golden rule of Slaka is, whatever you do, do it out of sight. And what do you like to do, Mr Petworth, what are your sports?’ ‘No sports, really,’ says Petworth. ‘Oh, do be frank,’ says Budgie, putting her hand on his, ‘I am. You may have noticed I lack what’s called a discreet temperament. I am one of those in whom the heart leads the head. Really I’m not a Slaka sort of person at all.

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