“It had an air of faded grandeur, like an elderly aristocrat who slips a fine lace shawl across her shoulders to hide the darns in her outmoded gown. Dorcas, preferring to work in the herb garden, had declined to join us, but Ben and I were greeted like gentry by a hunched minion sporting old world livery and an obsequious smile, and ushered across the worn red carpeting of the reception hall.Ben and I were served a superb lunch in the high-ceilinged Regency Room. Nothing was lacking on the heav...y parchment menu. Nothing was lacking whatever, except Aunt Sybil. She had agreed to meet us at 12:30. When she had not arrived by one o’clock, I was not unduly concerned. The delay meant Ben and I could indulge in our second glass of Dubonnet. By the time I had reached my fourth, the reason for our being there seemed immaterial. Time to order solid sustenance. Not being a regular drinker, I had not learnt the basic rules—like when to stop. By the time we had finished our five-course lunch, one of which was a bottle of wine, I was feeling lovely and floaty and only vaguely melancholy about Aunt Sybil’s absence.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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