Bigot Hall
“We’d read about it and now we were doing it, full of mad humour and high spirits. I thought of her anxiously and often, while outwardly appearing to stand idle. I loved her to the very bones in her hair. Talking in glances like identical twins, we drew the scowling attention of Uncle Snapper, who bellowed the observation that Adrienne was ‘a wayward, gamine bitch, smiling with her mouth open and clearly up to no bloody good’. Father remarked that a bit of conspiratorial grinning was only to be ...expected, but Snapper could only repeat that we’d enough casual insolence to choke a pig. ‘You’re not the first to be bohemian,’ Snapper snarled at Adrienne. ‘I once played a cello on a deserted beach.’ ‘I’m sure it was deserted. Instantly.’ Striding this Freudian minefield - a refreshing change from that of my own philosophy - I felt like a Wonderland explorer. Adrienne’s blurred face, sick with solemn beauty, floated through large daydreams. At night we were going at it like knives and enjoying long, fluorescent conversations about our migraine experiences.MoreLess
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