Free Legacy by Alan Judd Page B

you do much First World War in the army?’
    Hugo viewed military service as primarily a course of study. He was an authority on the First World War, though he preferred the term ‘enthusiast’, and while Anna cooked he showed
Charles his books. He was wearing cavalry twills, sports jacket and tie, which Charles interpreted as an expression of identity with earlier generations until Hugo mentioned that he had been to
Saturday Mass that evening.
    ‘It’s good for the girls,’ added Hugo, as if asked to explain. ‘Gives them the possibility of choice later. They enjoy it. They like dressing up. Anna doesn’t. Go
to church, I mean. Likes dressing up.’ He laughed abruptly, standing very close.
    Dinner was in the kitchen at the back of the house, which had been two rooms. Looking for something to compliment without exposing his domestic ignorance, Charles chose the pine table.
    ‘Deal,’ Hugo corrected. ‘That’s what more honest, less pretentious generations called it. It means any cheap white wood, which usually happens to be pine. The whole pine
business is a wonderful example of something old dressed up as something new. Fashion, that’s all.’
    ‘Fashion maybe but at least it’s a cheerful one,’ said Anna. ‘Better than the earlier fashion in houses like this for painting everything brown.’
    ‘Not the kitchen table. That would have been plain and scrubbed daily by the lady of the house.’
    ‘By her scullery maid, more like.’
    ‘True. It would be nice to have staff again.’
    ‘Then you’d better get another posting.’
    Hugo poured more wine. ‘Not that we’d have been eating in the kitchen. Earlier generations would not have understood our mania for the vernacular, for exposed brickwork, unpainted
wood, paying vast sums for places where animals lived and calling them mews houses and living in them ourselves and all the rest of it.’
    ‘We could move into the dining room if you prefer,’ said Anna.
    Hugo put his hand on Charles’s arm. ‘Talking of which, there is a wonderful table in there. Bet you can’t guess what it is. Come and see.’ He stood, wiping his mouth with
his napkin.
    Anna put her hand on Charles’s other arm. ‘Hugo, you can’t. He’s in the middle of his meal. Why don’t you wait till we’ve finished?’
    ‘Won’t take a second. Come on.’
    Anna’s mouth set firmly as she looked at her husband, but she said nothing. When Charles caught her eye she raised her eyebrows and smiled her crooked, shy smile. Its crookedness made it
seem personal and beguiling, a secret shared.
    The table was a handsome oval leaf with turned legs. ‘Mahogany,’ said Charles.
    Hugo was delighted. ‘Very understandable mistake. Very understandable.’ He clutched Charles’s arm, blinking rapidly. ‘Experts have made it. Actually, cherry. Most
unusual, isn’t it?’ They returned to the kitchen. ‘I was right, darling. He got it wrong.’
    ‘Darling, you are clever.’
    Charles left later than intended and drove back across the river to South Kensington. He had meant to ring Roger and warn that he would be back at the flat, since he suspected use of his room
when he was away. He heard the noise of the party as he approached the building. When he opened the flat door he found a man he didn’t know pinning a woman against the wall and urging her
that it wasn’t very far. They both held empty glasses.
    ‘It is far,’ she said, staring into his eyes.
    The man shook his head. ‘It isn’t far.’
    She nodded. ‘It is far.’
    The atmosphere was thick with candle and cigarette smoke. There was music and dancing in Charles’s bedroom. His bike was in the hall, with coats over it. The tiny kitchen was crammed and
there was more music from Roger’s room along the corridor. He knew two of the people in the kitchen, David Brook and Alastair Devauden, young postgraduates from the course.
    ‘Where’ve you been?’ shouted David above the music. ‘We’ve been looking for