Ostrich Country

‘That’s no way to treat your friend,’ said Bill to Pegasus.

Mervyn grinned. Pegasus fumed.

‘Yum yum,’ said Bill, of the jelly.

Pegasus mumbled.

‘Don’t talk with your mouth full,’ said Brenda.

Pegasus looked helplessly at Mervyn, but there was no help from that quarter.

‘Are you enjoying yourself, Mervyn?’ said Brenda.

‘I’m having the time of my life,’ said Mervyn.

‘Jolly good,’ said Bill, measuring his length on the sand and yawning contentedly.

They all measured their lengths on the sand and yawned contentedly. Above them the sky was blue, with white lines where aeroplanes had been. And the great sea teeming with fish. And beyond it the Baltic. And boats rocking gently on the summer breeze in the Baltic, with the rhythmic waters lapping against their hulls, and the long-legged summer girls. Another fistful of sand landed in Pegasus’s face.

‘Let’s go and dam up a stream,’ said Bill. ‘That’s always fun.’

A quick search revealed a complete absence of streams. They played ducks and drakes instead. Neither Pegasus nor Mervyn could equal the flair shown by their host and hostess.

Then they drove home.

‘Look,’ said Mervyn with mock excitement. ‘Cows.’

‘Oh yes,’ said Bill and Brenda.

‘Horses,’ said Mervyn.

‘Oh yes.’

‘Look, a traction engine.’

‘Oh yes.’

‘Look, an Early English church tower.’

Pegasus felt drained by the nervous tension. Silence was even worse than conversation, because it made him fear what would be said next. But at last they were back. The ordeal was over.

‘Thank you very much indeed for a lovely time,’ said Pegasus.

‘Simply super,’ drawled Mervyn, crooking his hand. ‘I haven’t you know, let myself go so much in years.’

‘It was fun, wasn’t it?’ said Bill.

Brenda rushed over to the hotel to serve dinner. Pegasus, whose evening off it was, went for a drink with Mervyn. They drove away from the village, into the heart of agricultural Suffolk, away from the sea.

At first they didn’t mention the picnic. Then Pegasus said: ‘I’d say I was sorry I let you in for it, except that you didn’t do much to make things any better.’

‘Can’t you move?’ said Mervyn.

Pegasus hesitated. ‘I don’t like to,’ he said.

‘You mean you like it there?’

‘It’s not that. But, you know, I’m all they’ve got.’

Mervyn bought another round of drinks. The bar was shady and cool. The beer was hoppy, woody, a country beer. Not so many left. The beer at least they could enjoy.

‘By the way,’ said Mervyn. ‘I saw Paula.’

‘Good God, where?’

‘Kensington Gardens.’

Despite everything Pegasus felt a flicker of excitement.

‘With her Simon?’

‘She wasn’t with anyone.’

‘Did she see you?’

‘No. I turned away, for some reason.’

‘How did she look?’

‘I had the impression she was sad. But I’m no judge of women.’

‘No.’

‘I gather you’re having an affair with the landlady,’ said Mervyn.

‘What makes you think that?’ said Pegasus.

‘You,’ said Mervyn.

‘Well yes I am,’ said Pegasus. ‘In a way.’

‘I think I’ll hang around till tomorrow afternoon, if that’s all right,’ said Mervyn.

‘That’s fine,’ said Pegasus. ‘In what way did you think she was sad?’

Mervyn grinned.

Bill and Brenda were still up when Pegasus got home.