Abroad by Katie Crouch

Author:Katie Crouch [Crouch, Katie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-0-345-81368-8
Publisher: Knopf Canada
Published: 2014-06-16T16:00:00+00:00

15

We were invited, the four of us, for three nights. The house was owned by an English couple who sponsored Professor Korloff’s work; he and his wife had a hobby of collecting Etruscan and ancient Roman art. People who had houses like this, Jenny informed me, liked to use any excuse to invite people over to show off, which is likely why he’d asked Professor Korloff to bring us. Anna, who had been to one of Arthur’s gatherings before, said it would be more of a salon atmosphere. She imagined there would be some academic Italians, some high society Brits—”I know I’ll know someone,” Jenny kept saying—and us, the students.

The night before we left, B4 came over for dinner and to talk about the weekend. My mother phoned in a baba ghanoush recipe for me to make, which, due to the limited ingredients in Grifonia and my awful cooking skills, was cheerfully acknowledged as a disaster.

“So will I need my long dress?” I asked.

“Most definitely,” Anna said. “There’ll be at least one formal dinner. Not to the letter formal, but these people will appreciate it if you make an effort.”

“Girls, what can I borrow?” Jenny asked.

“Something from me,” Anna said. “I’ve got five good ones. Even after Dad died, my mother dragged me to weekend things so it looked like the family still had it going on.”

“Which you do,” Jenny said. “Obviously.”

“Well, I will have my doctorate someday. So that’s something.”

“For what? Working?”

“I’d be the first woman in my family with a job. It’s sort of a nice idea.”

Jenny snorted. “Until you’re thirty-eight and an assistant living with a cat. No thank you. I’d snap up one of your mother’s lords if I were you. Or how about an Italian count? After all, if we can’t find rich Italian boyfriends at this thing this weekend, we don’t deserve to live.”

“You’re such a modern girl, Jenny,” Luka said.

“I’m beyond modern. Haven’t you heard? We’re all done with that dreary women’s movement. Everyone’s snapping back again.”

“It’s not like you don’t have a job,” Anna said.

The silence was deep but quick; if I hadn’t been used to the girls’ rhythms, I would have missed the beat of fear.

“I’m going to be a detective,” I said. “Like in books. Always wanted to do that.”

“What?” Jenny asked. “Really?”

“Sure. I’ve told you that.”

“You haven’t.”

“Oh. Well, yes.”

“Taz, you would be the worst detective in the world,” Luka said. “No offense. But you didn’t pick up on the drug thing for weeks.”

“People find me easy to talk to. I’m good at interviews.”

“It’s actually true,” Anna said. “You’d be the perfect spy, because no one would ever suspect that a girl as nice as you had anything but sweet intentions.”

I looked at Jenny and smiled. She didn’t say anything.

“She does have one of those blank faces,” Luka said. “Impossible to read. I’d wager she’s a plotter though. The quiet types always are.”

“Well, God forbid you actually follow your tawdry career dreams,” Jenny said. “And what about your flatmate? What’s

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