Dave Hart Omnibus II by David Charters

Author:David Charters
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781908739575
Publisher: Elliott & Thompson

I’M TRYING again with Two Livers. I’ve got tickets for Figaro at Covent Garden. I’ve taken a box, organised a Michelin-starred chef to provide the catering, ordered the finest wines – better than anything the Opera House ever serves – and I make sure Tom drops me off half an hour early so I can fuss unnecessarily about the details and generally irritate everyone.

On the way Tom passes me the evening paper.

‘Front page news – isn’t that the bloke you saw at the Treasury?’

It’s true. Lord Bigmann’s political career seems to have taken a bit of a dive. Apparently he’s been having a little bit on the side that Lady Bigmann knew nothing about. Several little bits on the side actually, and they all look quite tasty. Someone dug up the dirt and now the papers have splashed it. In fairness, it’s nothing I wouldn’t do myself as a matter of daily routine, but political life in Britain is governed by a golden rule of hypocrisy: don’t get caught and, if you do, make sure you’re not caught doing something the Establishment – and, in particular, your political masters – might be jealous of. Lord Bigmann did get caught, the ‘ladies’ have sold their stories to the press and now there’s talk of him resigning. So far Lady Bigmann is standing by her man. Looking at her picture in the paper, I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes right now. She looks like she could eat a Northern scrap-metal merchant for breakfast and spit out the rusty bits. Isn’t life a bitch?

Dinner at the Royal Opera House has been planned with meticulous detail. We’ll start with a selection of amuse-bouches with our champagne, and then we’re going to be eating foie gras terrine washed down with Tokay, followed by lobster with all kinds of interesting bells and whistles with a Grand Cru Chablis. This chef knows his stuff and I’m sure it will be a hit. As for the opera, all I have to do is not fall asleep. It’s three and a half hours with one interval. I considered popping something to make sure I don’t nod off, but on reflection decided to avoid drugs and alcohol altogether for twenty-four hours beforehand, and get an early night – alone – which was a challenge worth accepting for the prize I’m seeking.

So I’m feeling uncharacteristically alert and refreshed, in some ways almost disturbingly so. Without chemical assistance of one sort or another to smooth out life’s little wrinkles, even small things seem to irritate me. In fact I’m pretty snappy. Chill, Hart, chill. All you have to do is stay awake and let the food, the wine and the performance take care of the rest. There’s much less chance of fucking up, because most of the time you’ll be sitting in silence, taking in the opera, which has great reviews and will hit the perfect cultural chord with Two Livers. The less you speak, the smaller the chance of saying the wrong thing.

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