The White Guinea Pig by Ursula Dubosarksy

Author:Ursula Dubosarksy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ligature Pty Limited
Published: 2021-11-10T11:04:39+00:00

9 · Simon

Violetta was spending a rather unsettling evening with Marcus in the bookshop. Of course, Marcus was never what you would call relaxing company, but in shops he was worse than ever. Violetta had a humble attitude to shopping. She would scurry in, peer furtively around for what she wanted, hurry over to pay for it and slip out as quickly as she could, hoping she hadn’t caused anyone any trouble. But for Marcus, going shopping was one of life’s great social adventures.

This was particularly trying to Violetta in a bookshop, which had for her some of the hallowed atmosphere of a library. Marcus had other ideas. They made their way out of the cold city down an escalator, into a big, modern bookshop, well-lit and brightly coloured.

‘I’m looking for something on embroidered rugs,’ he announced in such an enormous and forceful voice that several people lurking in the aisles of paperbacks glanced up in shock, as if he had demanded a pornographic magazine. Violetta was still in her school uniform, but Marcus had changed into a white shirt and black trousers, hitched up with bicycle clips, revealing orange socks. He might well look like the kind of person, thought Violetta, who has an unashamed interest in the seamier side of life.

‘Embroidered rugs,’ said the man behind the counter thoughtfully.

‘Preferably eastern African,’ Marcus continued. ‘My mother has a particular interest in Kenyan handicrafts.’

This sounded most unlikely to Violetta, now she had met Marcus’s mother. She more than suspected that Marcus was one of these people who buy presents for other people that they would like to receive themselves.

‘Eastern African embroidered rugs,’ muttered the man, obviously unwilling to admit they had no such thing.

‘Or tribal music of Zimbabwe,’ suggested Marcus, to show he was not being difficult.

The man nodded, a blond lock falling over his tortoise-shell glasses. ‘Come this way,’ he said, with a sudden and masterful gesture, walking briskly down to the back of the shop. ‘There might be something here for you.’

It didn’t take Violetta long to realise that this was going to be a prolonged evening, and one in which her advice was not going to be called upon with much frequency. Marcus was telling the man, whose name was Ted, according to the label on his red shirt, all about his long-term interest in African needlework, and how waterways of the Gobi desert was not quite the same thing. Ted was undaunted, however, and optimistically showed him a book on Egyptian cuisine, with the same admirable spirit as an estate agent who shows the client a two-storey shop with a spacious courtyard when what they asked for was a three-bedroom house with a lockup garage.

‘A beautifully presented book,’ remarked Ted, flipping over the glossy food-filled pages.

‘Ah, yes, the Moroccan influence …’ murmured Marcus non-committally, scanning the index at the back.

Why on earth did Marcus ask her to come? If he really wanted her advice, she would have suggested getting his mother some fragrant drawer liners, or even some crystallised ginger, of which she had noticed the older generation was peculiarly fond.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.