I Conquer Britain (17 page)

Humans really do make things complicated, don’t they?

But since I was raised by people who were always breaking down in deserts and on remote mountain-tops, I’m resourceful.

“Well how about this, then? What if Caroline and Robert meet Celeste casually? You know, not actually knowing who she is?”

“You mean we just happen to bump into them on the street?”

“I was thinking more of the garden.”

“In the garden?”

“At the barbecue.”

“What barbecue?”

He was definitely related to Robert.

“My goodbye barbecue. Tonnes of people are going to be there. You could invite all your other friends, too. You know, confuse them.”

For the first time he looked at me as though I might be speaking English. “You mean they wouldn’t see the tree for the forest?”

“Exactly.”

I couldn’t have put it better myself.

W
hen I told Caroline that the Czar wanted to invite some of his friends to the barbecue she went into what-language-are-we-speaking-now? mode.

“Friends?” said Caroline. “Xar wants to invite his friends?
Here
?”

“Not all of them,” I assured her. “Just a few.”

Caroline shook her head. “But why on Earth would he want to do that?”

“Because he wants you to meet them.”

“Because he wants us to meet them.” She smiled bravely, like she was coming down this dark alley at three in the morning and she knew what was going to be waiting for her at the end. “I see.” Caroline sighed. “Oh Lord.” She stared down at her tea. “I do hope this doesn’t mean he wants to marry her.”

I hadn’t expected her to unravel my complex and supremely clever scheme so quickly.

“Oh, I don’t think it’s anything like that,” I said quickly. “He just thought it’s time you—”

“Met his friends,” finished Caroline. “I wasn’t born yesterday, you know. I know what that means.” She lifted her cup as though it was filled with solid gold. “He’s bringing the girl.”

All Robert wanted to know was if they ate meat or not. They didn’t.

“God help us,” said Robert. “We’re being swamped by veggies. We’ll have to get another grill.”

“His friends?” said Nana Bea. “Well, I’d say it’s about time, don’t you?”

It didn’t look like my idea of hiding the tree in the forest was going to work exactly the way I’d thought. Nana Bea said it was like the elephant in the room. Everybody knew it was there, but no one was going to mention it, especially not to the Czar. They acted like all they were nervous about was if there’d be enough pasta salad and what the weather would be like.

The weather was perfect.

Caroline stared out the kitchen window like there was a unicorn chomping on her roses. “I can’t believe it. There isn’t a cloud in the sky.”

“What did I tell you?” Robert lifted an apron from the box he’d just taken from the closet under the stairs and held it up. It was red and said B B KING in large white letters on the front. “It’s not going to rain on barbecue day. Not this time.”

The Czar and I put tables and chairs around the garden while Nana Bea surpervised and Drake and Raleigh got under everybody’s feet.

Robert set up the two barbecues with a table between them.

Caroline strung coloured lights all around the garden.

“Who’s going to see them?” asked Robert. “It’s daylight.”

“Well, you never know…” Caroline shrugged. “It might go on till late.”

“It doesn’t get dark till gone ten,” Robert squawked. “You don’t expect them to stay till gone
ten
do you?”

“Well it depends whether or not they’re having a good time, doesn’t it?” said Caroline.

The Czar’s friends arrived first. There were five of them. Three of them had dreads and all of them were pierced. Celeste was wearing a green tutu today and a T-shirt that said Rob the Rich. She was the only one who dressed up.

“Good God,” muttered Robert as they slouched down the hallway. “They look like they just came from an anti-globalization demonstration.”

“I wonder which one it is,” murmured Caroline.

The Czar introduced them. Carlos, Rosen, Evelina, Jack, Celeste.

Carlos said, “Pleased to meet you.”

Rosen said, “Cheers.”

Evelina thanked Caroline and Robert for inviting her.

Jack was the one I’d seen at Parliament Square and in Camden. He said it was a pleasure to meet us all.

Celeste had never met a writer or a painter before.

“My parents friends tend to be more realistic,” said Celeste. She turned to Robert. “Not to be bad or anything, but how can you write novels when the world’s going to hell?”

Robert smiled like he’d probably had this question before (and probably from his son). “Just because a book’s a work of fiction doesn’t mean it isn’t true. Which is more than can be said about a lot of non-fiction.”

“Well, I’ll say one thing…” Celeste was looking around the dining room like she was planning to steal the silver. “The book business must be better than I thought. Maybe I should give up trying to save the world and write a novel.”

“Come on.” The Czar took her by the elbow. “Let’s go in the garden.”

“I don’t really
get
gardens,” muttered Celeste as he dragged her away. “I mean, first you destroy the natural landscape and then you spend all your spare time trying to recreate it but without any of the inconvenient things like insects and animals.”

“Well…” said Robert.

Caroline sighed.

“She’s got her share of opinions, that one,” said Nana Bea.

(Proving that old saying of Sky’s: It takes one to know one.)

Jack asked Robert if he needed any help.

“To tell you the truth,” said Robert as they led the way through the French doors. “I could use a veggie grill chef.”

“Brilliant,” said Jack. “I’ve been looking forward to having a chance to talk to you. I understand you’re something of an expert on the Victorians.”

Next to turn up were the Aswanis. Mrs Aswani was truly resplendent in a sari that was as bright and glittery as a Christmas tree.

“Cool,” said Tiki, taking in the Czar’s friends. “They’ve moved the revolution to the Pitt-Turnbulls’ backyard. That’s much more convenient. Plus they’re serving drinks and food.”

The Scolfields and the Jemisons arrived at the same time. The mothers were both in floaty, flowery summer dresses and the fathers and Daniel were in slacks and short-sleeved shirts, but Jocelyn looked like she’d just stepped out of a
Gap
ad for summer fun.

Jocelyn nodded to the rebel army that had gathered around a bowl of chips and dip. “Where did that lot come from?”

I said they were Xar’s friends.

“Ugh. They look like anarchists.” Jocelyn grimaced. “And he used to be so normal.”

“The one in the skirt would be pretty if her hair was a normal colour,” said Daniel.

Jocelyn pretended to laugh, but her eyes were glaring. “Oh, puhlease…”

It started off really well.

The Aswanis and Nana Bea got into a heavy discussion about back pain. Mr Aswani was a fellow sufferer.

“I’ve got a very good book that helped me,” said Nana Bea. “You can borrow it if you’d like.”

The Pitt-Turnbulls’ friends all swarmed around together, talking gardens.

Tiki, Rosen, Carlos and Evelina found they had a common interest in solar energy.

Jack and Robert huddled over the grills together, talking like they had to use up every word in their heads in the next hour or be turned into weevils.

And then it started to rain.

Caroline sighed. “It looks like it’s Plan B.”

I figured Plan B was cook in the kitchen.

“Nonsense,” said Robert. “Humans didn’t get where they are today by not being adaptable. Caroline, fetch the umbrellas.”

Apparently this had also happened before because Robert had two clamp-on umbrellas that he attached to bamboo poles stuck into pots on either side of the barbecues to keep the coals from going out (which was pretty ingenious for a man who’d just learned how to slice bread).

The rest of us (except for Jocelyn and Daniel who had disappeared into the house as soon as they’d said hello to everybody) beat a hasty retreat inside.

Out in the garden we all sort of milled around, but there wasn’t enough room to mill around in the dining room. We kind of broke off into two groups – the Pitt-Turnbulls’ friends around the table near the French doors where the wine was and Nana Bea, the Aswanis and the Czar’s pals more in the middle of the room. Tiki, Carlos and Evelina stopped talking about solar power and started talking about water. The Czar and the Aswanis got into a conversation about India. Celeste and Nana Bea were swapping protest stories. I was just thinking of going to see if Caroline needed any help in the kitchen when Jocelyn and Daniel finally decided to join the merrymakers. They both looked rumpled.

Jocelyn bore down on me like heat-seeking missile.

“There you are!” she called. “I was wondering where you’d got to.”

“That’s funny,” I said. “I was wondering the same thing about you.”

“I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am that I never rang you when I got back from my grandmother’s. I just didn’t have a chance.”

The girl was kindness and consideration given human form.

“That’s OK,” I said. “I was pretty busy, too.”

She didn’t ask.

Jocelyn launched into a detailed account of everything she and Daniel had been doing that had kept her so busy. It might have gone on for hours, but somewhere around “…and then we took a picnic to Kew – have you been to Kew? – oh, you really should go…” Jocelyn got distracted by something behind me. She kept talking but it was like the voice you get when you call the movie theatre to find out what time the shows are. Her eyes were staring over my shoulder like she was trying to move the furniture through telepathy.

I glanced around.

Nana Bea had moved over to join Tiki, Evelina, Rosen and Carlos. Daniel was talking to Celeste. He was standing almost on top of her (which, to be fair, was pretty hard not to do), with an expression on his face that I figured was supposed to be serious and intent but that looked more like constipation. Celeste was carrying the burden of the conversation, with Daniel nodding wisely every sentence or two.

I turned back to Jocelyn. “Isn’t that nice?” I grinned. “Daniel’s made a friend.”

She put a smile as bright as a surgical knife on her face and walked past me. I automatically followed her.

“There you are.” All warm and bubbly, she came up beside Daniel and slipped her arm around his waist. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” (No one was going to criticize Jocelyn for being too original.) She leaned her head against his shoulder. “And you are?” The warmth and bubble died out when she spoke to Celeste. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

Celeste looked at Jocelyn for a full nanosecond. “Celeste.” She looked back to Daniel. “Anyway, as I was saying, it’s no good just giving people aid. You have to change the system that keeps them—”

Jocelyn cut her off again. “You know, I’ve always loved that picture.” She was gazing up at the portrait of Mr Bean as though it was the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. “Don’t you think it’s just brilliant?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s good,” Daniel mumbled.

Celeste spoke clearly, distinctly and loudly. “Personally, I don’t really get that sort of thing. I mean, pictures of pets … they’re nice and all, but tens of thousands of children die every day of poverty. Don’t you think it seems a bit frivolous to paint pictures of cats?”

“Well … umm…” Daniel mumbled.

“No, I don’t,” answered Jocelyn. “Art is what separates man from the beasts.”

“What crap,” snapped Celeste. “What separates man from the beasts is a death wish.”

“A death wish?” Jocelyn coughed out a few pained laughs. “Oh, puhlease. I know all about global warming and the starving millions in the Third World and all that, but we have a civilization our great-grandparents couldn’t even have imagined.”

“Oh, really?” Arguing with policemen and politicians all the time had paid off for Celeste; she had scorn down pat. “And just what is it you do with all this brilliant civilization? Go shopping?”

Since this seemed to be pretty much what Jocelyn did do with all this brilliant civilization, she answered with an attack. “And what do you do? Stand in the road, chanting?”

Celeste sneered. “Sometimes. I sure as hell do more than people like you with your shallow, self-centred consumerist existence.”

“At least I contribute to the economy.” Jocelyn had a pretty good sneer too. “And perhaps if you did a little consuming now and then you wouldn’t look like a clown.”

Celeste finally worked out how to smile. “Looking like a clown is a sight better than looking like a walking
GAP
ad.”

I figured it was time to stop this conversation since it was starting to look about as attractive as an open wound.

“Hey, Jocelyn.” I put a hand on her shoulder. “I think lunch is almost ready. You want to see if Caroline needs some help in the kitchen?”

Jocelyn pulled away from my touch. “You help her.”

Celeste went into mock-innocent mode. “What’s the matter? Not used to doing any work?”

“
Me
? Look who’s talking. People like you don’t want to work and make a good life for themselves. You just want everything handed to you.”

To be fair to Celeste, she stayed cool and calm for a change. “It looks to me like you’re the one who’s had everything handed to her.”

Jocelyn, however, had zipped past cool and calm and was going straight into blind fury.

“And it looks to me like you’re someone who takes everything she can get her grubby paws on.”

“Jocelyn,” I said. “I think maybe you should chill out a little. You’re getting way overheated here. Celeste didn’t do anything to you, she just—”

“She didn’t do anything to me?” Jocelyn swung around so fast I thought I was going to bite her nose. “She’s only been making moves on my boyfriend since we got here.”

Celeste making moves on Daniel was pretty much the equivalent of Subcomandante Marcos trying to get it on with Britney Spears, but I managed not to laugh out loud.