feeling rather crestfallen about the dismissal of Miss Wiggins's script, I politely declined the offer of tea and made my way out into the bright sunshine. I decided to go home and see if Teddy Carmichael had returned from Paris but as I was walking towards the taxi-rank in Tottenham Court Road, I heard someone behind me shout out: 'Hey, Andrew! Andrew Scott!'
I turned round to see a swarthy well-built chap of my own age walking briskly towards me from the comer of Bedford Square. At first I had no idea who he could be but as he came nearer I recognized him as Antonio Rubira, a delightful Spanish gentleman with whom I had chummed up when we had met some two years before at a house party given by Lord Philip Pelham's parents, the Earl and Countess of Cheshire.
So I held out my arms and we hugged each other in the Continental style as I greeted him. 'Buenas dias, mi amigo viejo, que tal?'
'Soy muy bien, gracias and all the better for seeing you, my dear fellow!' he exclaimed (and I should add here that Antonio spoke perfect English for his half-Scottish mother brought him up to be bi-lingual). 'Do you know, I was just on my way back to the Savoy where I was going to telephone you to see if you were free to dine with me tonight at Bickler's.'
'Well, if nothing else I have saved you the cost of a telephone call,' I replied. 'And I am free this evening. But I'll be frank with you, Antonio, I can't really afford to go to such an expensive restaurant.'
Antonio smiled broadly and grinned: 'Your father keeping you on a tight rein as usual? Well, that won't matter because our dinner will be on the house. You see, my father has an account with Bickler's because he comes to London quite frequently since the Spanish government invited him to lead a committee to promote Anglo-Spanish trade. He was told that it would be more convenient for the bureaucrats if he would arrange for his bills to be sent directly to the Foreign Ministry in Madrid.
'Mrs. Bickler caters all his receptions in the restaurant or at the Embassy and she's so grateful for the business that she insists on treating me every time I come over here,' he explained. Then he clicked his fingers and said: 'Andrew, I must rush away as I'm having tea with a distant relative of my mother's. But I'm so pleased we can meet up again later. Eight o'clock all right for you?'
'That would be lovely,' I answered as I hailed a passing cab which I insisted Antonio should take as I was in no particular hurry. I waved goodbye to him as I decided that, although I would have a free feed tonight, it was unnecessary to splash out one and six on a taxi when I could sit on an omnibus which would take me to within some hundred and fifty yards of my front door for twopence.
I came home to find that Teddy Carmichael had returned from France just after mid-day. Whilst we munched through the cucumber sandwiches left by Mrs. Pelgram, he recounted the details of an extraordinary sensual affair in which he had been involved during his brief stay in Paris. He leaned forward over the tea-table and said: 'Andrew, you might not believe me, but the day before yesterday after a slap-up luncheon, I fucked the pretty young wife of the naval attache at the American Embassy.'
'Well, lucky old you,' I rejoined with a chuckle. 'But what was so extraordinary about this occurrence? Many ladies attached to naval officers find themselves with an itch which occasionally they find it necessary to scratch in a discreet manner. To be blunt, it must be especially tempting for them to enjoy the cocks of passing acquaintances such as yourself who can be relied upon to keep their secrets and are most unlikely ever to be seen again by their husbands.'
'Yes, yes, I realize this,' he said impatiently. 'However, in this case it was not the lady in question but her husband who asked me to poke her!'
I stared at him in amazement and exclaimed: 'Oh come now, Teddy! Are you trying to pull my leg?'
'Not at all,' he said sturdily. 'Without a word of exaggeration, I tell you that's precisely what happened. Look, it all began the night before when I met Captain Gordon Dashwood at a private view of the latest works of Alfred Kleiman, the German abstract painter whose paintings are the current rage in highbrow Parisian circles. He was sitting by himself on a sofa with a glass of wine in his hand and I could see from the glum expression on his face exactly what he thought about Kleiman's colourful daubs. Anyway, I sat down next to him and when I cautiously mentioned how difficult I found it to see the merits of avante garde art, his face lit up and, putting down his glass, he grasped my hand and shook it vigorously.
'“Let me shake you by the hand, sir,” he said in a pleasant Yankee drawl. “In my opinion, if you showed this crowd a canvas of six splodges of red paint and informed them that the picture was the famous Donkeys Backside by Alfred Kleiman, some idiot would pronounce it a masterpiece.”
'You're probably right,' I said cheerfully.
'“Oh Gordon, you're not boring this gentleman with your reactionary views about modern art?” said a sweet voice behind me and I turned my head to see a pretty young woman standing behind me.
'She really was exceptionally attractive, Andrew, with a well-proportioned figure, a graceful white-skinned complexion, large brown eyes and rich red lips which, when she smiled, revealed sparkling white, even teeth. I was delighted when she sat down next to my companion who sighed: “Very well, my dear, I know you think I am an old fuddy-duddy but I believe that my friend here will stand on my side of the barricades if you want to discuss the merits of Herr Kleiman.”'
Teddy paused and let out a hoarse guffaw as he went on: 'Naturally I leaped to her defence because to gain an introduction to this ravishing creature I would have taken her side in any dispute even if she had argued that two and two made five! I said: “Well, let's not be too hasty. Painters like Kleiman are expressing their ideas in an intensely personal, private fashion which it totally different to the traditional, accepted techniques and I don't think they should be dismissed out of hand.”
'To my delight, the stunning girl clapped her hands and said: “Bravo! Well said, Mister-”
'“Carmichael, Teddy Carmichael,” I smiled, standing up to shake her hand. Two delectable dimples appeared on her cheeks when she smiled at me and said: “How do you do, Mister Carmichael. My name is Valerie Dashwood and this is my husband, Gordon.”
'“A pleasure to meet you, sir,” I said with a bow. To cut short the story, we chatted very pleasantly until the Dashwoods had to leave the gallery, but before they left me, Captain Dashwood insisted that on the following day I should join them for luncheon at Chez Nicole, one of the swankiest restaurants in Paris.
'Quite frankly, I would have accepted an invitation to eat at a workman's cafe in Belleville. Not that I complained at the delicious food at Chez Nicole. We started with caviare followed by sole poached in white wine and then a coq au vin which fairly melted in the mouth, all washed down with a splendid white Sauterne.
'Then Valerie left the table to go to the ladies' room. As soon as she was out of earshot, Captain Dashwood frowned as he looked at his watch and said: “Dear Lord, is that the time? Teddy, forgive me but I've just remembered that I have to see the Ambassador at three o'clock and there are one or two papers I should run my eye over beforehand. So please do not think me rude, but I really must get back to the Embassy. I've already settled the check but I would appreciate it if you would be kind enough to escort Valerie home.”
'“Of course, it will be my pleasure to take Valerie home,” I said. Then I nearly fell of my chair when Captain Dashwood leaned over the table and added quietly: “Thank you, Teddy, and in that case, I should mention that there is one further service you could perform for my dear wife. This morning Valerie told me how delighted she would be if I could persuade you to fuck her.”
'I could hardly believe my ears and I spluttered: “What did you say?” He calmly repeated: “I said that Valerie wants you to fuck her.”
'“That's a pretty poor joke,” I commented. But he shook his head and continued: “It's no joke, Teddy. Don't look so shocked-we've been happily married for eight years but since our first date I've always known that I could never satisfy Valerie's tremendous appetite for fucking.”
'Captain Dashwood stood up to leave us as I slowly digested this information. Seeing the dazed look of astonishment on my face, he shrugged his shoulders and added: “Teddy, it's a price well worth paying to be married to such a luscious woman. Anyhow, I'm truly proud that so many men desire her.”
'I could not refrain from blurting out: “Yes, I suppose I can understand that, although there can only be a small minority of men who are happy to share their wives' favours.”
'“Maybe so,” he agreed. “But it doesn't bother me that Valerie takes lovers now and then. Honestly, I really don't mind because her affairs keep her happy and fulfil her needs.”
'With those words, he waved goodbye and left me with my mind in a whirl. Then it struck me that perhaps I might be the victim of a practical joke (albeit in the worst possible taste) played by Captain Dashwood on both his lovely wife and myself. My hands began to tremble as I thought how dreadful it would be if her husband had been
