‌Eleven

Last Supper

‘We sat down, jammed together, in a dining-room that can never have held more people in all its existence. It was not full, it was bursting. We could hardly lift the roast beef and apple tart to our mouths. Under the coloured-paper decorations, we sweated like bulls. The ale went down sizzling.’

J. B. Priestley, English Journey

Here’s a question. Who would you ask to dinner, if you could choose from anyone in history? Jesus often gets a look-in. As do Dorothy Parker, Albert Einstein, Oscar Wilde, Frida Kahlo, Leonardo da Vinci, Cleopatra, Malcolm X, Mae West, Confucius … Which is all well and good, but this is my hard-to-beat selection: Enid Blyton, Wilkie Collins, Ithell Colquhoun, Celia Fiennes, Gerald of Wales, Edith Somerville, Violet ‘Martin’ Ross, J. B. Priestley, Beryl Bainbridge, Charles Dickens, James Boswell, Samuel Johnson.

We are going to need a round table. Charles Dickens would sulk and leave early if he found he hadn’t been placed at the head, and he’s unlikely to be the only one. I imagine an old-style room above a pub (anything too modern would be distracting). There’d be wide, mellow, antique pine floorboards (creaking and somewhat off-kilter), a Persian rug or two, a chandelier, that large round table (bare oak, guttering candles, gleaming silver cutlery, small bunches of wildflowers in vases, fresh linen napkins, several crystal glasses each), prints on the panelled walls (maybe some of Ithell’s, to get the conversation rolling), more candles on the walls and mantelpiece and a log fire ablaze in the hearth (it is winter outside). I realize it all sounds very Dickensian, but that’ll please the man himself – and our guests would recoil from any attempt at minimalism.

The menu is as follows, with something for everyone, except vegetarians:

Fresh Cornish oysters.

Soups – one cold (clear consommé); one hot and spicy (mulligatawny).

Fish – smelts fried in parsley butter.

Shellfish – broiled lobster.

Game – roast quail.

Entrée – roast beef. Vegetables.

Pudding – spotted dick, with custard.

Sorbet – orange.

Cheeses – British.

Fresh Fruit – strawberries, peaches, apricots, grapes …

Coffee or Tea.

Guests will be greeted with a bowl of hot gin punch (made by Dickens). Fresh lemonade is available throughout. The wines are French. The ale is British. Port will be served with the cheese. Brandy to finish. Coffee (with tea for Dr J). The ladies will not be leaving the table, whatever Dr Johnson may say (and nor will any of them be expected to sit on his knee and sing, although Beryl may get the urge).

Anyway, just the ten courses. They don’t have to be large. We’ll let Dickens carve (there’s no stopping him, so we might as well submit with good humour). Gerald will find it all very surprising, but then again he probably ate lark and swan in his day. He will not be thanked for giving any sermons (on gluttony, for example), but he will be asked to say a short Latin grace at the start of the meal. If he doesn’t, Sam Johnson will put him straight. I don’t think we need any music during the meal – we can save it for later. Smoking is permitted. The windows will be flung wide to help with the fug and the acoustics (there are some very powerful voices here), although there is nothing to see outside but the black empty night.

I have thought hard about the seating plan. Some of it was easy. Beryl should sit next to Dr Johnson. She wrote a book about him, after all, but I am also certain that he’d enjoy her extravagant stories (so long as she doesn’t slide under the table too early in the evening). Enid should sit next to Dickens. She will be thrilled to see some of his magic tricks, and he’ll enjoy the Whoopee cushion she has brought with her. They can also compare notes about public readings, cruelty to animals and corporal punishment. I think we need to separate Wilkie from Dickens, and Boswell from Johnson (although the last two need to be kept close enough so Boswell cannot fret about missing some choice saying or other). Edith will be very happy chatting to Dickens, and he will be further energized by her beauty and wild laughter (and kept in line by her patrician manner). They can talk about hunting, dogs, servants, Home Rule and women’s rights. Also easy is putting J. B. Priestley on the other side of Beryl (so many notes to compare), with a vast ashtray between them – and also next to Edith (I don’t think they ever met, but they both loved Ireland and are easily roused to delight and indignation). Gerald should of course sit next to Enid (religion) and Martin (politics), while Martin and Boswell would have a scream: gossip, Tory politics, more gossip. I’ve placed Celia on the other side of Boswell because she may remind him not to get overexcited or drunk; then again, because we don’t in fact know too much about her (other than that she was brave and enjoyed French claret and beer and a stormy coastline), we may find they leave together at the end of the night. Dr Johnson will keep an eye on them from the other side of the table. Wilkie, Celia and Ithell, meanwhile, can talk about Cornwall and ghosts and art, all of which are subjects on which Dr Johnson will want to expand (although what isn’t?). If Johnson feels the need to argue with someone, and he will, he has eleven opinionated opponents to choose from.

At the end of the meal Gerald will say grace again and Dickens will shoot his sleeves and astonish the company with a little bit of magic. Jack, Edith and Martin will perform some music (piano, cello and violin) – and perhaps Celia will be persuaded to sing (who knows what musical talents may lurk?). If she won’t, Enid most certainly will. Edith, Enid, Jack and Wilkie will organize the charades. And Dr Johnson will demonstrate his celebrated impersonation of a kangaroo (to the absolute astonishment of Gerald and Celia), by bundling up his tailcoat at the front to resemble a pouch, and bounding around the room with great, floorboard-shattering leaps. Martin will join in with her imitation of a howling fox terrier (it is extremely loud and life-like). Jack will massage Beryl’s toes. Sometime later, Wilkie will introduce Ithell and Gerald to laudanum (‘let me tell you about beavers’, Gerald begins) and Boswell (very drunk, rebuffed by Celia) will take Dickens to one side and suggest they see if there’s any action to be had outside on the street.

My seating plan is below and the age of the guests is given in brackets.