Page 39 of Infamous

‘No, no, not private,’ said Nash cheerfully. ‘But it is over, I’m afraid. I’ll show you around after we eat, Dayo, it’ll all look a lot better after a few bracing drinks.’

‘Nicks?’ Liza put her head around the door, looking irritated, as if she’d been seeking him for a while. ‘They’re calling us to dinner.’

‘Excellent!’ said Nash. ‘Follow that woman and she will lead you to the promised land.’

*

The dining room was too cavernous to be cosy, but with the fire lit and the table aglow with candles, it felt as if they were all huddled together in a very atmospheric cave. Eddie found herself sandwiched between Liza and Valentine, the latter of whom kept topping up her wineglass and smoking a pipe between mouthfuls of soup. Kitty told a wild story about a sitting gone wrong – an attempt to paint a member of the nobility that had almost landed her in prison – and it kept them all entertained through the entire first course and well into the main.

‘You know Donne went to prison,’ said Nash. ‘And Thelwall. And Chaucer. All great thinkers should.’

‘Oh, well, what’s good for Thelwall and Chaucer,’ Kitty said, rolling her eyes. ‘Idon’t believe one must suffer for one’s art, Nathaniel.’

‘Not my name,’ Nash said good-naturedly.

‘Nashaniel—’

‘Oh, come on. Now you’re just being silly.’

‘Ienjoymaking art. I don’t have to storm off into the wilderness to stub my toe and have a weep about it just to rustle up some inspiration. This idea that everything must come from pain, that even poetry about love and joy must be tinged with the exquisite agony of mortality .?.?. it’s all very sad and morbid.’

‘But you make some truly depressing art sometimes,’ Valentine countered. ‘I have seen your portraits of men returned from war – they were harrowing.’

‘Oh, God, yes, when the mood takes me. But I don’tmanufacturethe mood. All I am saying is, if I make something out of joy, if everybody who beholds it feels that joy and their life is improved, however fleetingly, because of it .?.?. is that not worth merit?’

Eddie cleared her throat. ‘I agree with Miss Stuart.’

‘Kitty,’ said Kitty.

‘All right, I agree withKitty.’

‘Expand,’ said Nash.

‘What?’

‘Oh, you don’t have to turn every dinner party into a debate in the House of Lords, Nash,’ Liza said despairingly, accepting another glass of wine from Mr Akerele opposite her.

‘Defend yourself,’ Nash said, ignoring his wife, waving his knife at Eddie as if he were about to use it to spar with her.

Eddie glanced at Rose, who was studying her with a carefully neutral expression.

‘Well, I think .?.?. I think that, as Kitty says, if you try to dictate the precise emotions that can result in great art, you will only restrict it. And .?.?. no good art ever came from imposing arbitrary restrictions. Even if those restrictions are imposed by so-called artists themselves.’

Valentine cheered and clapped her on the shoulder; Kitty laughed and raised her glass. Eddie went pink, pleased with herself for holding her own but trying not to let it show. Down the table, she saw Rose say something quietly to Albert; for some reason it prompted a spike of unease in Eddie’s stomach – the worry that perhaps Rose thought her pretentious and was telling Albert so behind her hand.

‘I’d be perfectly happy for you to go to prison, Nash,’ said Mr Akerele. ‘Happy indeed, if you were to do it in pursuit of the betterment of this country and the freedoms of your fellow man, and not because you are so afraid of your editor that you would rather be starved and beaten and set upon by rats than simply sit down at your nice comfortable desk and finish writing your novel.’

‘All right, all right. You’ve all made your points. You villains can stop tormenting me now and eat all my food, warm yourselves by my fires, sleep in my comfortable beds .?.?.’

‘Comfortable?’ said Valentine. ‘I think mine is made out of old shipping crates. I sat down on it and almost fell through to the floor.’

‘Would you prefer to sleep on the billiard table?’

‘Is it structurally sound?’

‘If you’re a billiard ball.’

‘Valentine, if your bed is not to your liking we’ll have the servants make other arrangements,’ Liza said firmly. ‘Or you can sleep in ours.’