Free The collected stories by Paul Theroux

he has how could he fail to be an admirer of yours?'
    This did the trick. Wibbert wrote his telephone number on the back of my hand in ballpoint, and as he had to hold my hand in his in order to do this it was noticed by the others at Miss Byward's as a rather eloquent gesture.
    'You're not leaving,' said Miss Byward, when I asked for my cape.
    so

    ALGEBRA
    'A dinner engagement. Unfortunately. I would so much rather stay here and chat. It's been lovely.'
    She released me and afterward I wondered whether she had not said those very words to me. On the bus home I thought how much more satisfying it was to be a host than a guest.
    I went home and after four tries typed a letter to Sir Charles, which I copied out in longhand - I liked the look of spontaneous intimacy in a handwritten letter. I was sure he would appreciate it. I told him about Wibbert and said that Wibbert was dead keen to meet him, if we could fix a day.
    The reply from Sir Charles came in the form of an invitation from the Royal Society of Literature in which I was named as his guest at a lecture by Cyril Crowder on 'Our Debt to Hugh Walpole.' Although a reply was not requested I dashed off a note to the Society's secretary and said I'd be delighted to attend. And another to Sir Charles. On the day, I was so impatient I arrived early and chatted to the only person I could find, a little old lady fussing at a table. I had very nearly invited her to meet Sir Charles when she revealed herself as one of the tea ladies and said, 'I should have a cream bun now if I was you. They're always the first to go.'
    Just before the lecture the room filled with people, Sir Charles among them. I blushed when a man, on being introduced to me by Sir Charles, said yes, indeed, he knew my work well. Sir Charles was pleased, and so was I, but I quickly took myself to a corner of the room. Here, a group of people were talking to a man who was obviously the center of attention. I made a beeline for this man, but instead of speaking, simply listened to what the others were saying. The man smiled at me a number of times.
    'His friendship with James amounted to influence,' someone said. 'I believe it was very great.'
    'Deep,' said the man, and smiled at me.
    I swallowed my fear and said, 'Profound.'
    'That's it,' said the man and thanked me with his eyes.
    'They're calling you, Cyril,' said a woman. 'You're on.'
    This was Cyril Crowder! But he took his time. He said, 'You'll have to excuse me. I must do my stuff. Perhaps I'll see you afterward. There are drinks downstairs in the Lodge.'
    Cyprus sherry, Hungarian Bull's Blood that was red ink, a semi-sweet Spanish white, and a mongrel Corsican rose.

    WORLD S END
    The dinner I gave for Cyril Crowder, Sir Charles and Lady Barbara, Virginia Byward, and Wibbert was one of my most memorable. It was further enhanced by the appearance after dinner (I had only six chairs) of Tanya and Mr Momma - and Mr Momma brought his records. Naturally I left them to themselves, kept their glasses filled with some vintage Muscadet (1971), and let them become quite tipsy. Very late in the evening, Cyril took me aside. I told him again how much I had enjoyed his lecture, but he interrupted, saying, 'Have you ever thought of addressing the Society?'
    'I wouldn't dare.'
    'Oh, do.'
    'I'm not even a member,' I said.
    'We can put that right,' he said, and he hollered across the room, 'Charles - how about making Michael a Fellow at the next committee meeting? All in favor say, "Aye!"'
    'Aye!' came the shout from the sofa.
    And Mr Momma said, 'High!'
    'Motion carried,' said Cyril. 'Now what will you speak on?'
    'First things first,' I said, and uncorked a bottle of port (1972), decanted it through my hanky, and poured three inches into a schooner.
    'That wine's a gentleman,' said Cyril.
    'So you can understand why I was so keen to lay it down.'
    After Sir Charles and Lady Barbara left, Mr Momma put his records on the gramophone and did his drunken Cypriot shuffle.