Shine, Pamela! Shine! by Kate Atkinson

Author:Kate Atkinson [Atkinson, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781542020602
Published: 2020-08-31T16:00:00+00:00

The members of the book group perked up like meerkats at the sound of the front door opening and then crashing shut, closely followed by Nicholas slamming into the room as if he was pretending to lead a SWAT team. He flinched at the unexpected sight of a room full of middle-aged women—really he couldn’t have looked more horrified if he’d stumbled on a coven of naked witches sacrificing a goat on the fitted Axminster.

“Book group, Nick,” Pamela said to him helpfully. It would have been nice if he could have managed even a rudimentary “Hi,” or shown at least a pretense at manners, but instead he muttered something that didn’t even try to be a sentence (“Don’t slouch! Speak clearly! Shine!”), before backing out of the room cautiously as if the book group might be about to follow him en masse and savage him out in the hallway. He left an intrusive scent of beer and cigarettes in his wake.

The room was silent for a moment as everyone tried to think of something positive to say about Nicholas. Pamela had to resist the desire to fill the void with excuses. (“I did my best” might be top of her list.) Everyone else’s offspring were doing interesting things. “International law with a trade delegation to China. Charlotte speaks fluent Mandarin, of course.” Or, “Tom’s just got a job with the Scottish Office—bit late in the day but we’re thrilled.” And so on, ad nauseam.

“Nick hasn’t really found out what he wants to do yet,” Pamela said.

“Oh, I know,” Honor said, all earnest understanding. (“That dress!” Pamela thought.) “Ed’s taken forever. He’s helping to build a school in Botswana at the moment but he’s talking about politics when he returns.”

This information was met with a murmur of approval. “Good for Ed,” Fiona said.

Jolly, jolly good, Pamela thought and had to put her hand over her mouth to stop her sarcasm flying out into the room. “Wonderful!” she supplied instead.

Alistair was irritatingly indifferent to his first son’s prospects, whereas the second son—Noah—already had “his name down for Gordonstoun. If it’s good enough for the royal family, it’s good enough for my son.” This didn’t seem like a very good recommendation to Pamela.

“I don’t know why you’re complaining,” he said to Pamela, “you should be glad Nick’s working. God, Pamela, let’s be honest, neither of us ever imagined him with a job.” It seemed a shame that Nicholas didn’t have at least one parent who had harbored expectations for him, however small.

“Of course Amy’s such a highflier,” Sheila said, as if Amy’s talents made up for Nicholas’s deficiencies. “Chalk and cheese, your Nicholas and Amy,” Sheila laughed. Pamela sighed. So many clichés, so little time.

“Still, it must be nice having one of them still living at home,” Fiona said, wreathing herself in a pashmina as the members of the book group trooped into the hallway and started struggling into layers of outdoor clothes.

“Well . . . ,” Pamela said as the smell of something illegal drifted down the stairs, “in some respects.

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