A Rural Affair

suburban relief our ties and high heels.

‘Hope! Chad!’ Angie got to her feet with a bit of a swoon, manufacturing the impression she’d just come out of a literary trance, so engrossed had she been in the narrative. ‘How lovely to see you. Now I know you’ve met Jennie and Poppy before, but this is Angus, Peggy, Sue – I won’t do surnames,’ she fluttered with a tinkly laugh. Everyone stood up: some in a rush so their books fell on the floor; some with a bit more ease, like Luke; and some, like Passion-fuelled Pete, even giving a little bow as he shook Chad’s hand.

Chad, looking even more Adonis-like close up, displayed impeccable manners and some perfectly straight white teeth as he smiled. He smiled a lot and intoned ‘Chad Armitage’ every time he was introduced, making his way around the circle and looking right into everyone’s eyes. He was followed by Hope, whose tiny little hand as she extended it seemed as fragile as a bird’s wing. She really was awfully pretty, I thought, as I drank in more perfect teeth and silky hair. We all beamed as she greeted everyone warmly. Only Peggy’s smile was more amused, and she declined to stand, politely offering her hand and muttering to me that at her age she only stood for royalty and the over-seventies. Certainly not for a man. What did Angie think she was doing?

Angie, who’d once met Camilla Parker-Bowles and never quite got over it, was indeed becoming more and more lady-in-waiting-like as she proffered the two remaining chairs. Then she decided they were too ropey for the Armitages and made Luke and Jennie swap, in order to give Chad and Hope more acceptable ones.

‘So!’ said Chad, rubbing his hands and looking huge on the chair Angie had finally deemed suitable, a tiny gilt rococo number she’d bought at Sotheby’s. His voice was thrillingly transatlantic. ‘What are you guys reading, then? Hope and I are so excited about this, incidentally. We did a lot of reading groups back home and got so much out of it.’

Angie cleared her throat. ‘Well, this week we’re all reading The Ghost by Robert Harris. It’s not a frightfully intellectual book,’ she hurried on, ‘and of course we will read something more challenging later on, but it’s a rattling good read with a terrific plot. A good starter book, we thought.’

‘Oh, OK, good idea,’ Chad agreed. He took the book from Pete beside him, who offered it. ‘Hey, I like the sound of this,’ he said, reading the blurb on the back. ‘Makes a change from Philip Roth, doesn’t it, Honey?’

This, to Hope, who, if she was surprised by the popular nature of the novel, was hiding it beautifully. ‘It certainly does. In fact it looks wonderful,’ she said, turning it over in her hands as he passed it to her. ‘And what did you all make of it?’ She glanced around, smiling.

‘Oh, it’s tremendous!’ boomed Angus. ‘Absolutely first class.’

‘Really? That’s great.’ She smiled at Angus, perhaps waiting to be further illuminated. If she was, she was disappointed. He beamed back. ‘What about you, Pete?’ She turned kindly to her neighbour, having remembered his name. The blood surged up Pete’s neck and into his cheeks.

‘Oh, um … I thought it was very good too.’

‘Good, good.’

This didn’t give us a great deal to build on. And although Hope could have asked someone else, it would have thrust her into a dominant role, so she sensibly refrained. Instead she smiled encouragingly at Pete, hoping for more. Pete eyed the door as if he might make a run for it.

In the deafening silence that followed, Angie shot me a pleading glance. ‘Poppy, what about you?’

Sadly I hadn’t read it. I’d had too much on my plate this week. Although, actually, come to think of it, I was pretty sure I had read it, years ago.

‘I thought it was gripping.’ Angie’s eyes demanded more. Much more. ‘And … and I particularly liked the bit where the guy hangs from the cable car, in the snow,’ I said wildly. ‘Really exciting.’

‘That’s Where Eagles Dare,’ said Jennie, rather disloyally, I thought.

Everyone cast their eyes down to their book. ‘Anyone else got any thoughts?’ Angie said brightly. ‘Who didn’t enjoy it?’

Lots of shocked murmuring, head shaking and pursed lips at this. But no concrete ideas.

‘So … everyone enjoyed it.’

More enthusiastic agreement. But then something of a hiatus again. And don’t forget we were all in a circle, so it was a bit like Show and Tell at Clemmie’s school. A mistake, I felt. Too intimidating. We were also missing Simon, who surely would have had some erudite, eloquent remarks on the matter. Angie, Jennie and I looked despairingly at one another. We hadn’t thought this through. Did this need chairing? In which case, who was going to do it? Were there too many of us? Too few? How did it work? What was a book club?

‘Did anyone have any thoughts on characterization?’ suggested Luke, and I could have kissed him. Angie looked