Small chunks of melted chèvre floated on top of hot olive oil cupped in the recesses of four capsicum halves that also held finely minced garlic and anchovies. With a spatula Michael carefully served two halves to each plate then sprinkled fresh parsley on top.
Meanwhile, Lucian stood before a wall of CDs trying to decide what music to play during dinner. There were more than two thousand to choose from, along with approximately eleven hundred records shelved against an adjacent wall. In the corner between them stood a stereo of old and new components, including an amplifier Lucian had found in a Brixton alley in the early nineteen-eighties and had never felt the need to replace. Perfect, he said, plucking a CD from the shelves.
Michael waited nervously for Lucian to join him at the coffee table and taste the meal that Maureen had taught him to prepare. It looked impressive and smelled delicious, but Michael would not relax until Lucian had taken a bite and offered some indication of approval. He sipped the powerful vodka tonic that accompanied the meal – Michael had forgotten to buy wine – and felt the alcohol hit his stomach at the same moment a raw exotic music filled the room.
Lucian handed Michael the CD cover as he sat down. Mmm, what have we got here?
Salah Ragab and the Cairo Jazz Band present Egyptian Jazz, Michael read before he put the CD cover to one side so he could demonstrate how the meal was to be eaten. With a bold cut across one of the capsicum halves the plate filled with warm, fragrant oil and the dissolved remnants of anchovies and garlic. He then continued to cut the capsicum into portions small enough to be easily gathered up with a piece of bread that had first been sopped in the chèvre and oil. Michael tried to contain his surprise at the pleasures of the dish, but quickly found himself so involved with the meal that it was half over before he thought to look up to check if Lucian was following the same technique. His dining companion, however, was happily nodding his head to the rhythmic swing of Middle-Eastern jazz as he also greedily devoured the moreish meal.
After the plates were cleared, Lucian selected a different album – Sheriff Lindo and The Hammer, Ten Dubs That Shook The World – and began to roll an after-dinner spliff. So how did you get on today? Make any progress?
Michael drained the last of his vodka tonic but tasted only melted ice and lemon. The glass of fine crystal, cut in an elaborate design, felt so attractive beneath his fingers that he was hesitant to put it down. I think so. I came across some of the notes you made when you were beginning Lady Cadaver.
That should have been entertaining. I hope your interest extended beyond just the smutty bits.
They weren’t salacious at all. They were about your sister, Ursula. She was one of your inspirations for that book wasn’t she?
It’s certainly the theory your academic brethren have perpetuated, so who am I to contradict it. Let’s have a look at what you’ve found.
Michael surrendered the glass so his hands were free to gather together scraps of paper from various pockets and smooth their creases against the top of his thigh. In exchange for his notes he accepted the joint, from which he took two deep tokes before returning it on the far side of the ashtray.
As Lucian read he could not recall encouraging his six-year-old sister to accompany him down the blowhole at Blackmans Bay. Nor of Ursula ever falling off a path of wooden planks that had been laid across the top of a giant blackberry thicket. He imagined her sitting at the bottom of the brambles, poked by jagged thorns whenever she moved, and the relief of her rescue by their father forever associated with the torture of being pulled back up. Lucian noticed his hands were trembling as he relit the joint.
Your penmanship is atrocious, he said. I can barely read what you’ve written. Maybe from now on you should type them up for me.
I could buy a small printer for my laptop if you’d like.
Lucian shook his head. I think I’d prefer your handwriting. Just give the typewriter a go. It won’t kill you.