Marking Time by Elizabeth Jane Howard

Author:Elizabeth Jane Howard [Howard, Elizabeth Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Historical, War, Adult, Romance, Family, Contemporary, Saga
ISBN: 9780671527945
Google: Q_CgLN95yCcC
Amazon: 0671527940
Goodreads: 723621
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 1991-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

‘Bet you didn’t know that, Miss Milliment.’

‘Indeed no. I had always thought plane trees occurred in this country far later than Chaucer.’

She had been reading over the Brig’s latest chapter of his book about trees in Britain, a task she had taken over from Rachel who had had to go to London for the weekend.

‘Most people seem to think that they were brought here about the time of the East India Company. Utterly wrong, as you can see.’

‘John Evelyn has rather a good account of Xerxes and a plane tree.’

‘Does he now? Amazing feller. Find it and read it to me, would you?’

Miss Milliment obediently hoisted herself to her feet and pattered over to the large glass-fronted bookcase. Finding a book in it was a great trial to her, as the bookcase stood in a dark corner of the study, and the books were not arranged in apparent order. Rachel, of course, would have known where it was. She hunted, but she could only read the spines of the books by taking each one out. ‘I’m afraid I may be some time finding it,’ she said apologetically, but the Brig did not seem to notice: he was in full spate about the tremendous size of plane trees he had known at Mottisfont, some rectory in Sussex, and the avenue at Cowdray Park, and at the same time feeling for his whisky decanter with purple gnarled old hands . . . ‘Find me a glass, would you, Miss Milliment?’

She stopped looking for the book and searched for one of his immensely heavy cut-glass tumblers. The room was so full of furniture, papers and books that her passage through it was difficult.

‘There’s that piece of Pliny’s somewhere, about eighteen fellers eating inside a hollow tree. Just read that to me, would you? It might be suitable.’

Pliny she could find, because he was lying on the desk, but finding the piece that he wanted was another matter. Fortunately for her, a car arrived which the Brig identified as belonging to Hugh: she was asked to find another glass, the monologue on the girth of plane trees ceased, and he became fidgety in his desire to hail Hugh at exactly the right moment so as to entrap him. ‘Is that you, Hugh? Hugh? Is that you? Ah! The very feller I wanted to see. Have a drink, old boy. Thanks, Miss Milliment. She’s been reading to me because Rachel went to London to sort the books at Chester Terrace. Should do the same with my cellar. Do you remember when you came on leave and all I’d got was three bottles of what I thought was undrinkable claret? Bought it for one and nine a bottle in an auction – twelve cases: I’d taken to giving it as wedding presents it was so bloody awful – and we got those three bottles up and they were absolutely superb! Remember that?’

Hugh said that that had been Edward’s leave. Miss Milliment put the second glass by the decanter and retired.

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