De Payns sat beside Patrick, on the RER travelling north from the university ground where his oldest son’s soccer team had just played. He was hungover but he’d kept his phone in his jacket pocket, noticing how many of the other parents stared into their screens on the sidelines while their children were playing soccer. It annoyed him, and despite the low parenting rating he’d received from Romy recently, he at least wasn’t going to ignore his sons so he could read platitudes on LinkedIn.
‘How come Sophie’s so fast?’ asked Patrick, sipping a Burger King lemonade, the Whopper long gone. ‘I mean, she sprints away from everyone and still has the ball.’
De Payns nodded. ‘She’s pretty good, but I bet she does extra training.’
‘She’s also bigger than the rest of us,’ said Patrick, flicking his sandy blond hair off his brow. ‘That would help.’
‘You think because she’s taller than you that she has more skills?’
‘Hmmm,’ said Patrick, a smile starting at the corner of his mouth.
‘What?’ asked de Payns. ‘You still have to train—doesn’t matter how big you are.’
‘Like that drunk at the Metro station?’
De Payns paused. ‘What about it?’
‘The first one, the one you punched in the mouth,’ said Patrick, matter-of-fact, ‘he was bigger than you, but he didn’t have the fighting skills.’
Warning lights flashed for de Payns. ‘You shouldn’t have seen that. It was my mistake.’
Patrick shrugged. ‘It’s all right,’ he said. ‘Violence is never okay until it’s necessary, right?’
‘Well, it might be true, when you say it like that,’ de Payns prevaricated, ‘but—’
‘Sensei John told us they have a saying in Africa.’
‘What’s that?’ asked de Payns, regretting the turn the conversation was taking.
‘The only thing worse than a violent man is an unprepared man,’ said Patrick. ‘Having superior manners is no defence against a fist.’
De Payns chuckled, couldn’t help himself. ‘Well, you listen to Sensei John, he’s obviously experienced and smart. But perhaps don’t mention his ideas to your mother?’
‘No way,’ said Patrick, drink straw in his mouth.
■
The evening meal wasn’t the waste of time de Payns had expected. Romy dished up homemade pizzas for the boys and a roast leg of lamb for the adults, and Rafi and Ana were good company. The wine flowed, and when de Payns had cleared the table Oliver and Charles jumped on the Xbox while Rafi sat on the carpet and showed Patrick some moves on the chessboard.
‘I love this new apartment, Alec,’ said Ana as de Payns took a seat beside Romy. ‘That Ministry job is good for real estate, non? You must be doing well.’
De Payns smiled, knowing that just about everyone in the Defence Ministry missed out on the famous subsidised apartments in the nice streets. They were reserved for the people who played politics rather than operated in the field. ‘We got lucky.’
‘Don’t be so modest,’ said Ana, smiling. ‘And Romy’s doing so well in her career, too. I bet you’re excited about this energy seminar.’
There was an expectant pause, while de Payns tried to remember if Romy had said something about it.
‘The Tirol Council seminar?’ added Ana. ‘Europe in a Post-Carbon Era?’
‘Umm …’ said de Payns, confused. He looked at Romy helplessly.
‘Didn’t I tell you?’ asked Romy. ‘We’re invited to the big gala for the opening of the conference. We’ll all have plus-ones—it should be fun.’
‘All of us?’ said de Payns.
‘You know, David and Kris and me—the team!’
De Payns smiled and tried to make a joke of his ignorance. ‘Just as well I love surprises.’
‘Oops, sorry,’ said Ana, laughing and reaching for the riesling bottle. ‘Foot in my mouth. I thought you knew.’
‘Tell me about the conference,’ said de Payns, turning to his wife.
‘We have some important speakers, actually,’ said Romy, avoiding his gaze. ‘David pulled some strings, and we’ll have Tony Blair and maybe Bill Clinton at the gala night.’
‘I always liked Tony Blair,’ said de Payns. ‘I like the way he wrings his hands when he talks.’
Ana spurted wine as she repressed a laugh.
‘And Bill once gave me a copy of Leaves of Grass, but he doesn’t phone, he doesn’t write …’
Ana whacked him on the arm. ‘You’re terrible, Alec.’
‘Actually, it would be quite a coup to get both Clinton and Blair at the conference,’ said Romy tersely. ‘David’s doing a wonderful job.’
‘David sounds like a great guy,’ said de Payns.
‘He is, actually,’ said Romy, sounding furious now.
‘You got a smoker’s window?’ asked Ana, easing herself out of the argument she’d started.
‘It’s the middle door,’ said Romy, pointing at the French doors that opened onto the Juliet balcony. ‘But Alec doesn’t smoke in front of the kids.’
‘Neither do you,’ said Rafi, not looking up from the chessboard.
‘Yes, she does,’ said Charles, not looking away from the Xbox game.