‘Probably because I’m a dreadfully shallow creature,’ murmured Sarah. ‘Is there any more wine?’
Sir Vivian, seated at the other end of the high table, was surprised to see his daughter. He hadn’t known her to attend any of the Inn’s functions in years, and he wondered at whose invitation she was here this evening. Old Hugo Leveson, seated on her right, was hardly a likely candidate. He could see Hugo leering goatishly at Sarah’s cleavage, and shot him a glare, but Hugo appeared not to notice. Sir Vivian doubted if he could see that far. He peered past the arm of the waiter setting down the soup plates to get a glimpse of the person on Sarah’s left. He recognised his face and distinctive silver hair. Leo Davies, wasn’t it? He’d been at the party a couple of weeks ago. Suddenly the Bencher opposite, Colin Fryer, remarked to his female companion, ‘I see Leo Davies has turned up with some stunning girl, as usual.’
‘Quite a striking couple,’ observed the woman, glancing down the table. Then she added, ‘He’s tremendously attractive. What did you say his name was?’
‘Leo Davies. One of our top commercial silks.’ Fryer dropped his voice, but Sir Vivian caught the words, ‘The stunning girl could as easily have been some stunning young man, from all I’ve heard. There are more than a few rumours flying around concerning Leo Davies’ private life. Boyfriends, and so on.’
Sir Vivian was agog. He tried to fasten on the rest of what Fryer was saying, but a rather deaf retired Law Lord, the Right Honourable Lord Dutton of Chelmsley, chose that moment to enquire loudly what soup they were eating. ‘Is it some kind of vegetable? I can’t make it out.’
Sir Vivian seethed with irritation. He thought Fryer had just uttered the words ‘male lover’, but he couldn’t be sure.
‘I believe it’s broccoli and stilton,’ replied Lord Dutton’s neighbour.
Lord Dutton nodded. ‘That accounts for the colour.’ Sir Vivian was still trying to home in on the conversation opposite, and could just pick up ‘—in a sense one would prefer it if he were one thing or the other, rather than bisexual.’
‘I thought at first it was courgette,’ observed Lord Dutton. ‘I think I prefer courgette to broccoli. In soup, that is.’
‘My wife makes courgette soup with mint. Very pleasant in summer.’
‘Does she grow her own?’
‘Oh yes. Courgettes, broad beans, tomatoes, lettuces. She has a veritable potager. Quite the good life. We’re a regular Tom and Barbara.’
As the polite chuckles died away, Fryer was saying, ‘I mean, what woman would care for the idea that her lover’s previous fling was with some man? A bit iffy.’ Sir Vivian saw Colin Fryer’s guest glance at Leo with a faint smile, and she said, ‘That depends, I suppose.’
Sir Vivian was appalled and dismayed. He was aware that certain Members of the Bar were homosexual – how he detested the misappropriation of the word ‘gay’ – and he always tried to avoid their company, without letting it be apparent. Somehow the notion of bisexuality seemed even more disgusting. He leant forward to try to get a better look at the man Davies. He now recalled Leo appearing before him a couple of times when he was Recorder of London. A clever advocate, no doubt, but he could wish that Sarah had not chosen such a person to escort her this evening. No doubt she knew as much as Colin Fryer did, but the young seemed not to let such matters influence their judgment. In that they were misguided. Old-fashioned notions of morality were too readily discarded. He could only be thankful that she was marrying someone as decent and upstanding as young Toby. Sighing at the sorry state of the world, Sir Vivian returned to his soup.
When dinner was over, speeches were made – interminable speeches, it seemed to Sarah – and port was passed.
Sarah sniffed at the contents of her glass. ‘This stuff is like the blood of dead relatives. Do we have to stay much longer?’
‘Probably not.’
For the past twenty minutes Leo had been preoccupied with the question of whether or not he would be able to persuade Sarah into his bed this evening. Once upon a time, in a situation such as this, he would have been pretty confident of success. He and Sarah had always had a relaxed, straightforward approach to sleeping with one another whenever both of them felt like it. But Sarah was engaged now, and while his instincts might tell him she could well be having second thoughts about marrying Toby, the fact was that she had a pretty substantial diamond glittering on her left hand. Nothing – if anything – could be taken for granted. This would require delicate handling. But the sooner they got away from here, the sooner he would find out.