But in a way, the little interlude is a high spot. The next day I have a tutorial, with Lawrence, and it’s boring. I get annoyed at him because the work is too easy, and he gets annoyed at me for answering all the questions, but honestly if I don’t, how are we supposed to move on? And two days later, the kitchen doesn’t look too different to how it did before we cleaned it up. OK, there’s no trash corner, we’ve learned that lesson, but I’m still the only one doing the washing up. And I’m not doing it for everyone.
So when I get a text from Lily I guess I’m excited. She simply tells me an address, and to come at eight. I look up the address on Google, and it looks like an apartment in one of the typical brownstone houses around here, although from the cars outside you can tell it’s in the expensive part of the city. But I don’t really know what to expect. I don’t know what to wear, nor whether we’re eating at the house, or going out, or anything.
I decide to walk there, in the hope it’ll calm my nerves. And because I haven’t really figured out the subway yet.
The apartment looks more impressive in real life than it looks on Google Earth, but I tell myself not to be intimidated and knock on the door. It takes ages for anyone to answer it, but when it opens it’s Jennifer. She’s dressed quite relaxed, in black leggings and a kind of chunky green jumper, but once again, she looks stunning in it, and it’s nice to see how she greets me – I get a hug and a kiss on both cheeks, and I feel enveloped in her perfume, which kind of pulls me into the house.
“Billy – you came!” she says. “Come into the kitchen with us girls, ignore those stupid boys.” She directs the last comment into a room on her left – I can’t see inside, and takes my hand. I follow along, as if pulled by the scent from her hair, but I can’t help also noticing that the lobby here isn’t what I expected. I thought I was coming into a building divided up into lots of different apartments but it seems that Lily has the whole floor – that’s assuming it is actually Lily who lives here. And the decoration is amazing, it’s like being in a museum. The hallway is packed with antique-looking furniture and there are wooden panels on the walls, and actual oil paintings too. Hanging from the ceiling is an actual chandelier. I gaze around as Jennifer leads me along, and then through a door and into a kitchen. But it’s not a normal kitchen. It’s bigger than my whole apartment, even all the bedrooms. The decoration is similar to the hallway, just even more so. I only expect to see Lily, but Eric is also there. He’s sitting on the worktop with his feet up, wearing a bright blue silk shirt.
“Billy will help us settle this,” he says, as if I’ve been there for ages and just wandered back into the room. “The lovely Lily and I are arguing about the need for effective gun control in this country. I believe we need to ban all firearms, with the exception of those used where it’s absolutely necessary to control wildlife populations. But Lily here wants to gradually phase them out, though she gives no details how that works in practice.”
He talks really quickly, and as he does so he swings his legs down and, to my surprise, embraces me just as Jennifer did, including the kisses that are nearly but not quite on the cheek. But whatever he does, or says, it can’t compete with how Lily looks. She’s dressed in a nearly white dress, with flowers printed on it, and a delicate cardigan draped around her shoulders. She comes over and gives me a welcome hug as well, but without the kisses. I pay so much attention I barely realize Eric has spoken again.
“Yes. Well I think we need to get Billy warmed up before we hit him with the big questions in life.” He holds up a bottle – it’s just wine this time, white wine – and he pours some for me, into a giant, delicate wine glass. He slides it over the granite of the work-top.
“You’re being deliberately idiotic, Eric. As usual.” Lily goes back to the earlier conversation. She’s making a salad, I notice. I’ve not seen salad in several weeks. “I’m simply pointing out that there are already millions of guns in circulation. If you simply ban them it won’t make very much difference, and any approach needs to bear that in mind.” Eric stares at her, then theatrically looks away.
“Actually, if you prefer,” Jennifer interrupts, smiling sweetly at me. “You could join the boys. They’re in the billiard room, discussing French Impressionist art.”
I don’t know if this is a joke or not, though I’m beginning to suspect it might not be, but either way, I haven’t quite gotten over the house I’m in.
“Is this house all yours?” I ask. For a second I regret the question, but Eric turns on me with a big grin.
“Yes, it’s quite something isn’t it? The Lily-Palace I call it. Furnished for
