The Old Man and Me (1963) by Elaine Dundy

Author:Elaine Dundy [Dundy, Elaine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2010-08-19T04:00:00+00:00

10

NO DOUBT because of my being an American (though possibly the strain of all the mixed emotions I'd been feeling that day might have had something to do with it as well), I was out cold the moment I hit the sack that night and it damn near was noon next day when I came to. I rang the bell and I must have slipped back into sleep, or the pussy-footing was super-perfect—at any rate, when I registered again the curtains were parted, the breakfast tray was on my bedside and, you guessed it, the bath had been drawn. And all I'd caught sight of was the tail end of the black uniform.

I dressed and went downstairs into what I was beginning to think of as the non-Assembly Hall. I mean it was truly remarkable the way they all had of getting in there and spreading themselves limply about the furniture and not assembling.

Through the french windows, invincible in tweeds, impregnable in brogues, burst Lady Daggoner, an English Rose turned hyacinth from the morning's exertions, closely followed by C.D. and—peek-a-boo—Ann too, whom she'd also taken along on the expedition, the rat.

We all more or less looked towards their general direction— though I certainly wouldn't wish to imply any group activity in this movement.

“What was it like? Is the house nice?” somebody not much wanted to know.

“Absolutely dazzling? said Ann stretching her neck prettily and giving us her profile. I wish I could reproduce that awful English azz. It always went right through me. It had a “y” in there after the “d” so you got a “dyazzling,” which is pretty horrible for a beginning, but it was the way they started to say “dyazz—” and ended up flattening it into “dyezz—” that set me on edge.

C.D. came over and sat by my side. “What did you think of it?” I asked him with, need I tell you, a more than academic interest in his answer.

“Cos was being his usual tiresome self,” said Lady Daggoner with an indulgent smile for him. “All we do is look and look. And all he does is fuss and complain. He's made slaves of us all.” She let her hand trail along the back of his neck in an intimate manner I didn't care for as she went in answer to the butler's summons.

And here came the Amusing Young People.

“Melinda! Peter! Your guests.”

Thus Melinda! (Daggoner Child One) and Peter! (Daggoner Child Two) were mobilized into action in the foreground while there began with the Daggoners Senior and their group a kind of collective (though I hate to use so strong a word) withdrawing and disappearing action into the background. Mrs. Something-Something, the Dance-loving mother, popped in for a second showering me with Clara Hatch leaflets and reading me selections from the latest Hatch letter, and then disappeared. I was sorry to see her go for her departure—along with whatever else was mysteriously going on at the same time—had left me totally isolated.

C.D. was leaning over the back of my chair.

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