Page 9 of Infamous

‘Thank you, Mr Rednock,’ Rose said, watching him walk away with a frown on her face. As soon as he was out of earshot, she turned back to Eddie. ‘Vile creature.’

‘That’s what I’ve been saying!’

‘Nothim– you! I cannot believe you’d be so unconscionably rude to the poor man’s face – it’s only the fact that he’s so sweet that’s saving you from social disgrace—’

‘I like being a disgrace,’ Eddie said, grinning in the manner of a child who has secretly put ants in your bed. ‘He’s old, he’s dreadful, I don’t like him.’

Actually, if the circumstances of their meeting had been different, Eddie thought shemighthave liked him just fine. He was generally inoffensive; of medium height, pinkish all over and balding at the temples, slightly jowly and with a pair of thin gold spectacles perched on his nose. He had a lot of laughter lines, and he seemed ready and willing to produce more.

Rose’s parents didn’t seem to object to him one bit. In fact, the only thing theydidseem to object to was Eddie herself; they had been darting rather concerned looks at her all evening, which Eddie had decided not to take personally, until she’d been lurking near the drinks table partially hidden by a large vase and had heard Mrs Li say, ‘Oh, dear, I wish she hadn’t brought her. She can be so rude.’

Still, Eddie had reasoned, she could have been talking about somebody else – until Mr Li had said, ‘Who, dear?’ and Mrs Li had said, quite distinctly, ‘Edith Miller.’

For some reason Mr Rednock had seemed very nervous as Rose’s parents introduced him to Eddie, and had busied himself with directing the taking of coats et cetera, but Rose had firmly steered Eddie back over to him a while later and subjected her to all manner of banal niceties that left her with no real impression of the man whatsoever.

He was returning now, a glass of wine in each hand. Eddie expected him to hand his spare to Rose, despite the fact that she was still holding one that was mostly full; instead, he had the audacity to hand one to Eddie, and she had no choice but to say thank you.

‘Miss Li tells me you’re a writer, Miss Miller. It is so rare and wonderful to come across a woman who writes prose!’

‘I suppose you think I ought not do it,’ Eddie said, narrowing her eyes at him as she took a begrudging sip of wine.

‘Not at all – I dearly love to read. I have many friends in the arts, in fact, and I have been known to write the occasional piece for newspapers and pamphlets. All utter rot, I’m sure. Do you write novels? If you’d do me the honour, I’d love to read your latest.’

‘Well,’ said Eddie, feeling her neck flush. ‘I don’t .?.?. That is, I haven’t—’

‘Edith writes short stories,’ Rose said quickly, touching her fingers to the back of Eddie’s arm. ‘They’re wonderful. So clever, and funny! She is going to be a published author.’

‘Ah. Lovely. A story, then. Whenever is convenient.’

‘I haven’t got any copies,’ Eddie said stiffly. ‘Only the originals, and I shouldn’t care to hand those out in case the recipients were careless with them.’

‘Don’t be silly, Eddie,’ said Rose, her smile strained. ‘He’s a grown man, he’s not going to get sauce on them.’

Eddie smarted a little at the mention of sauce; Lucy-Anne had once ‘accidentally’ managed to get enormous globs of beef dripping all over a story she had spent weeks on, and all because the prissy blonde antagonist namedMary-Anne had fallen to her death trying to impress a passing man on a horse.

‘You might think they’re justfunny little stories, but I’m not going to start parcelling them out willy-nilly to anybody you choose—’

‘Eddie, you know very well that isnotwhat I meant.’

‘I don’t mean to put you out,’ Mr Rednock said, somehow still smiling. ‘Honestly! The last thing I want to be is a bother. Perhaps instead you could do a reading? That way you need not part with your stories, and we can all enjoy them without risking a saucing. I should love to be present at one of the first readings of someone who I am sure will one day be a great and accomplished author.’

Eddie could find no logical reason to object to this plan, and so settled on an illogical one.

‘I don’t have the right sort of voice for reading to so large a room.’ Rose’s fingers on Eddie’s arm went the way of pinching. ‘But I’ll—ow!I suppose I’ll consider it.’

‘Good. Good!’ said Mr Rednock, visibly relieved. ‘Actually, there’s an acquaintance of mine you might like to meet, an old friend .?.?.’

Eddie was no longer listening to him. She was instead giving Rose a Meaningful Look. They had been friends for so long that it was very easy for them communicate without words – up until very recently, Eddie thought ruefully, she wouldn’t have needed to employ a Look at all, as Rose would have known her well enough not to drag her to such a party – but even though she was entirely sure that Rose understood her meaning, they did not seem to be running full-tilt for the door. In fact, Rose was pointedly not meeting her eye, and was instead smiling at Mr Rednock as he continued to prattle on.

Rose and Eddie were by far the youngest guests invited for dinner, and when they sat down at the dining table Eddie kept looking around at them all with barely concealed horror. Were these the sorts of people Rose wanted to spend her time with? Miss Higgons, a spinster of five-and-thirty who looked as if she had never been acquainted with a washbasin in her life? Mr Carter, who lived one street over from the Millers and could often be seen pushing his snaggle-toothed dog in a perambulator? The man sitting opposite Eddie had been introduced as the editor of a newspaper, which would have piqued her interest, but he had immediately started talking at great length aboutsailing, which had not. The chair next to him was empty, and Eddie found herself staring at it, finding it far better company than any of the ones that were filled.

‘Pass me that cranberry sauce,’ Eddie whispered to Rose as they were presented with the main course. ‘And I shall fashion myself a nosebleed.’

‘You shan’t need to fashion one if you carry on like this,’ Rose whispered back, her tone entirely at odds with her genial expression. ‘I shall punch you in the face and you’ll bleed a merry trail all the way home.’

‘Oh, gosh, please do. Perhaps I’ll be knocked out entirely and you can just revive me when it’s time to leave.’

‘Stop being such a toad, Edith.’