Mood Indigo Read Free Page B

the rink to themselves – or almost. They went up to the swarming mass and Chick, recognizing Colin by his cleft skates, grabbed his ankles and extricated him from the seething crowd. They shook hands. Chick introduced Alyssum and Colin put himself on her left as Chick already occupied the dexter flank.
    They brushed themselves down when they reached the far side of the rink to make room for the serf-sweepers who, giving up all hope of finding anything but worthless rags and tatters of disconnected personalities in the mountainof victims, had got out their squeegees to wipe out the hundreds of stiffs, and shoved them into the gully while singing the Rinkunabulan Anthem composed by Beatrice Webb in 1892, and which goes something like this:
    Withdraw, sweet skaters, from the icy scene
–
    Within a trice the serfs will sweep it clean
…
    The whole ceremony was punctuated with exclamation marks from the whooter which were intended to instil, in the depths of the most devoted souls, a shudder of incoercible terror.
    Those skaters who were left applauded the initiative that had been shown, and the trap closed over the rest. Chick, Alyssum and Colin said a short prayer and began to gyrate once again.
    Colin looked at Alyssum. By some strange trick of Fate she was wearing a white tee-shirt with a yellow skirt. She had white and yellow shoes, with ice-hockey skates. She had smoked silk stockings and short white socks rolled over the tops of her little boots whose fluffy white laces had been twisted three times round her ankles. On top of all this she also had a sharp green silk scarf and masses of thick blonde hair from which her face peeped out. She looked out at the world through wide open blue eyes, and the boundaries of her being were delineated by a skin that was radiant and golden. She possessed round arms and calves, a narrow waist and a bust that was so perfect it might have been a photo.
    Colin looked somewhere else in order to steady himself. When he had managed this he lowered his eyes and asked Chick if the Stilettoed Eel hadn’t given him indigestion.
    â€˜Don’t talk to me about it,’ said Chick. ‘I stayed up all night fishing in my bathroom to see if I could find one too. But there only seems to be trout in my place.’
    â€˜Nicholas ought to be able to do something for you,’ said Colin, reassuringly. And then, addressing himself more particularly to Alyssum, ‘You have an extraordinarily gifted uncle.’
    â€˜He’s the pride of the family,’ said Alyssum. ‘My mother’s never got over being married to a mathematical wizard with nothing more than a first in calculus while her brother has done so well for himself in life.’
    â€˜Your father’s a wizard with a degree in maths?’
    â€˜Yes, he’s a don at the University and a member of the Magic Squared Circle …’ said Alyssum. ‘It’s awful. And he’s thirty-eight! You’d think he might have made some effort. Luckily we’ve always got Uncle Nicholas.’
    â€˜Wasn’t he going to come this morning?’ said Chick.
    A heady perfume rose from Alyssum’s shining hair. Colin moved away a little.
    â€˜I think he’s going to be late. He was full of inspiration this morning … If you’d both like to come back home for lunch with me, we’ll find out what it was …’
    â€˜Fine,’ said Chick. ‘But if you think I’m going to accept an invitation like that, then you must have a very strange conception of the Universe … Find a fourth first! I’m not going to let Alyssum go to your place or you’ll seduce her with the magic of your clavicocktail – and I’m not standing for that.’
    â€˜Oh …’ protested Colin. ‘Hark at the things he’s saying! …’
    He didn’t hear any more because an inordinately lengthy individual, who had been giving a demonstration of speedfor