Idiopathy

‘Warm in your office, was it?’

‘Yes thanks.’

‘Long way from that car park now, aren’t you?’

At this, Daniel simply laughed, even if it was only to mask his grimace.

‘We’re not onto this already, are we?’ said Angelica, carrying through the lentil thing and rolling her eyes. ‘I mean for God’s sake, boys, let it go.’

Sebastian spread his hands in a smug, blameless way. Daniel did the same in an equally smug, though slightly less blameless way.

The conversation moved on. Plum and Sebastian talked about Brighton. They always talked about places as if the people to whom they were speaking could never possibly have been there. Daniel had been to Brighton, but didn’t say anything. He’d already flirted with a spell in the doghouse during his exchange with Sebastian. He was usually, he thought, better at managing these occasions. Perhaps it was Katherine’s call, the stirring up of all those unpleasant memories and sensations. Perhaps it was the flu. Either way, he felt decidedly sharp-edged. Katherine would have said this was his true self. As far as she was concerned, conviviality was always a lie. You could fake being nice, she would say, but being a cunt came from the heart.

When Daniel tuned back into the conversation it had turned to politics and failures of government. It never ceased to amaze Daniel that, years after Blair’s departure, his shortcomings remained a fixture of dinner-party conversation. If that wasn’t a legacy, Daniel didn’t know what was.

‘I mean,’ said Sebastian, ‘just look at Afhanistan.’

‘Oh I know,’ said Angelica. ‘Afyanistan is a horror. To think that man actually took us there.’

It was, Daniel noticed, an unspoken agreement within the group that the names of foreign countries had to be pronounced with a slightly different inflection than was usual, delivered with such confidence that it implied ignorance on the part of anyone oafish and colonialist enough to say Afghanistan.

‘You know,’ said Sebastian, leaning forward in the manner that always presaged his saying something intense. ‘The Native Americans have this really fascinating approach to the whole concept of leadership.’

‘Oh I love their outlook on things,’ said Angelica. ‘Like their system of non-ownership and their whole attitude to the land? It’s so awful that we just crush these cultures without learning from them first.’

‘It’s true,’ said Daniel. ‘We should learn then crush.’

‘Oh you know what I mean. Don’t be pedantic.’

‘What they say,’ said Sebastian, quickly heading off any possible sidetracking, ‘is OK, you can be our leader, you can be our chief or whatever, but only until you start behaving like our leader. You see?’

‘Mmmm,’ said Plum. ‘God, that’s so beautiful.’

‘Mmmm,’ said Angelica.

‘Because what they’re saying,’ said Sebastian, ‘is that power corrupts, right? It’s like the … the inevitability of fascism.’ He clapped his hands once, quickly, clearly pleased with the phrase. ‘And the second they spot that you’re going over to the dark side …’ He drew a finger across his neck. ‘You’re finished.’

‘So who makes that decision?’ said Daniel. ‘I mean, is there a sort of matrix of warning signs or something? What are the key indicators? Buying a Porsche?’

‘I think that’s a very materialist way of looking at what is essentially a spiritual matter.’

‘Well I think the whole thing’s a very spiritual way of looking at what is essentially a practical matter. Don’t you want your leaders to behave like leaders? Don’t you want them to take responsibility?’

‘Mmhmm,’ nodded Sebastian. ‘But there’s the issue of the common good.’

‘Who decides that?’

‘Daniel’s a bit grumpy today,’ said Angelica, rubbing his back and pouting. ‘He’s had an ickle bit of fwoo.’

‘Oh fuck off.’

‘You’d be right out of the Native American leadership circle with that sort of behaviour,’ said Plum, winking at Daniel. She had a way of somehow joining in with the general conversational trend while at the same time suggesting a degree of sympathy with the underdog, meaning no one could ever justifiably get angry with her, meaning in turn that Daniel quickly became angry with her but had no idea how to express it without looking like an arsehole.

‘Illness is such a blessing,’ said Sebastian, helping himself to some more of the lentil thing. ‘It’s so cleansing.’

‘I’m full of snot. I don’t feel cleansed.’

‘Gwumpy wumpy,’ said Angelica, reaching down to pick up the cat, groaning a little as she heaved its formless mass onto her lap. ‘He’s gwumpy, isn’t he? Yes he is. Yes he is.’

‘I remember when I had dysentery in Sri Lanka,’ said Plum. ‘God, it was like being a new person at the end of it.’

Sebastian put his arm round her and kissed her temple. ‘You were so beautiful going through that,’ he said.

‘Gwumpy man. Gwumpy wumpy daddy man. Yes he is. Yes he is.’

‘Do you have to talk to the cat about me in that way? I mean really? Is it really necessary?’

‘Animals know our true selves,’ said Sebastian. ‘If you’re comfortable with your true self you have nothing to fear from the cat, regardless of what Angelica says to it.’

‘I’m not that concerned about the cat’s opinion, actually, it’s more the …’

‘I sometimes feel like he looks right through me,’ said Angelica, looking at Daniel but ostensibly referring to the cat. ‘Like he can just walk into the room and know, you know? Like the other day when I was feeling really negative, you remember, honey, over that whole thing with the phone and the … anyway, that’s irrelevant, I don’t want to go back to that space again, but he just walked into the room, and looked at me, and I just felt he understood, and he came and sat with me, and it was so calming, and I thought, all of this is happening without language, without words.’

‘It’s true,’ said Daniel. ‘He knows the pain of being mischarged on your quarterly BT bill.’

‘It’s not that literal,’ said Sebastian.

‘I know. I was sort of joking.’

Sebastian nodded as if this confirmed something very important to him. It was one of the things that Daniel had never quite understood about Sebastian and Plum and their ilk. For people who believed in freedom and expression and peace and love, who railed daily against the tyranny of the squares, they were oddly humourless, as if free expression and boundless emotional exploration were such a serious business that they left no room for actual fun.

‘Who wants more?’ said Angelica, pouring the cat onto the floor as she stood up to attend to the food. ‘Honestly, there’s loads.’

‘I couldn’t,’ said Plum. ‘Really.’

‘Not for me,’ said Daniel. ‘Lovely as it was. I’m stuffed.’

‘Looks like it’s just you and me, Seb. Go on, have another spoonful.’

‘Absolutely don’t mind if I do,’ said Sebastian, passing his plate over. ‘You must give me the recipe.’

‘I’m so blessed to have a man who cooks,’ said Plum.

‘Oh, you are,’ said Angelica. ‘Daniel’s a bloody disaster area in the kitchen.’

‘How can you eat something if you don’t have a relationship with it?’ said Sebastian, dry-swallowing another wad of brownish paste.

‘Mmmm,’ said Angelica.