The Dinner Guest B Walter (readict books TXT) 📖

Meryl arrived shortly after Jerome, prompting us to move into the lounge so we could sit down properly. Matthew was being the conscientious host, filling up everyone’s wine glasses and offering more cake than anyone could handle.

‘My goodness, Matthew, it’s like you’re going into the catering industry,’ Meryl said, her smooth American accent instantly transporting me back to my childhood. My parents had known Meryl long before they had me. My father had some business association with her late husband’s company and they all became firm friends. When they had me, they instantly made her godmother, and I’d grown up spending summers running around the large country house she and her husband had owned in Kent. She sold it upon his death fifteen years ago, preferring to live in Central London so as to have a better eye on her own business – a beauty cosmetics company called Streamline. She has a more distant, hands-free relationship with the company now, the day-to-day management carried out by a group of industry high-fliers she appointed. Although still only in her sixties, it felt sometimes like she’d aged rather quickly within the last few years.

‘I’m looking forward to meeting our new member,’ Meryl said, cutting into her slice of carrot cake with a small fork. ‘I understand she’s a young person, like the two of you.’ She nodded at Matthew and me. ‘Will be nice to have some more young voices.’

Anita’s lip twisted at the thought of being lumped in the old club with Meryl and Jerome.

‘She’s a little late, it seems,’ I said, checking the time on my phone.

‘She hasn’t messaged to say she’s running late, but she confirmed yesterday she was still up for coming,’ Matthew said, looking down at his phone.

The doorbell rang at that moment. Everyone looked around at each other, apart from Anita who craned her neck to see if she could see whoever was on the doorstep, apparently keen for a first glimpse of our mysterious new guest. It suddenly felt like I was in a play and a pivotal character was about to enter stage right.

‘That must be her now,’ Matthew said, and disappeared out to the hallway. Everyone sat in an awkward silence while we heard him saying hello and being all welcoming and doing the host thing. Then he came back into the room, bringing with him the tallish, blonde, nervously smiling woman.

‘This is Rachel, everyone. The new member we’ve all been waiting for.’

I saw Rachel’s face fall. ‘Oh gosh, I’m so sorry I’m late. I’m so embarrassed. I got the street muddled up with another…’

Matthew, realising how his phrasing may have been interpreted, cut in, ‘No, no, sorry, I didn’t mean waiting for in that way – just that we’re all so excited to have a new member of the group.’

I saw Anita raise a mean-spirited eyebrow at this. Jerome, on the other hand, leapt up and clasped Rachel’s hands in his. ‘Delighted you could join us,’ he said earnestly. She smiled and said a slightly breathless thankyou and Matthew guided her to the chair next to Meryl.

‘Splendid to meet you, my dear,’ Meryl said, nodding at Rachel. ‘I’m Meryl, and this is Anita.’ Rachel smiled and gave a little wave to them both, taking her seat and putting her handbag on the floor, before bending down to retrieve something from it – a copy of the book, it turned out – getting slightly flustered when a pack of tissues dropped out.

‘Have you come far?’ Meryl asked as Matthew poured her some wine. I saw his eyes meet mine then flick to the cake. I took his prompt and offered Rachel a slice, but she declined.

‘From Pimlico. I decided to walk but got a bit lost somewhere just up from Sloane Square. Ended up walking in the wrong direction for a bit.’

I saw Anita’s attention prick up. ‘Oh, I live in Pimlico. We probably passed each other on the way.’

Well you wouldn’t have, I thought to myself, because you’ve been here for about nine hours.

‘Whereabouts are you?’ Anita continued in her usual abrupt, borderline rude way.

‘Oh, nowhere very grand,’ Rachel said.

A normal person would have taken this as an indication to move on; Anita was many things but not, sadly, a normal person, so pressed on. ‘Which street?’

‘Oh, um, just off Johnson’s Place.’

Anita’s eyebrows rose so high up her head it was almost comical. ‘That’s on the Churchill Gardens Estate, isn’t it?’ From her tone, anyone would think Rachel had confessed to bedding down with a pack of wolves every night.

‘That’s right,’ Rachel said, with a smile. ‘I rent a little flat there.’

Anita’s eyes widened even further. ‘Is that so? Goodness. Well. What’s it like?’

Rachel gave a slight shrug, ‘It’s fine. I mean, it could be better. Not as lovely as round here. But I haven’t been murdered by a gang just yet, so things could be worse.’

Jerome laughed. ‘You must excuse my daughter-in-law. She lives in fear of anyone who doesn’t get their avocados from Waitrose.’

Anita looked mortified. ‘I don’t eat avocados, Jerome. And you’re painting me as some kind of snob, which is more than a little audacious while you sit on your throne in your Mayfair apartment…’

‘Shall we perhaps,’ Meryl said, her soft voice doing what it did best – cutting through a room as if she’d shouted – ‘turn our attentions to our book this month?’

Anita moodily snatched up her bag from wherever she’d tossed it earlier, took out a pristine paperback, and said, ‘Fine.’ Jerome smiled at her, as if he were an indulgent uncle and she a sulking child. I saw Rachel’s eyes meet Matthew’s opposite. He offered her a little flick of the eyebrows and a grin, and then he started to talk about what he ‘took away from’ the novel.

Looking back now, I can’t be sure how long Rachel was gone. I think I vaguely remember her asking Matthew the direction of the loo, and I thought she’d gone off in the right