Read The Night Book for Free Online Page B

back, and he tried to check himself, to sit back and appear neutral.
    She said politely, ‘I don’t think we’ve met. What’s your name?’
    ‘Simon Lampton.’
    She blinked, laughed. Her glass twitched in her hand, as if she’d started at a sudden noise. She put her glass down and looked at him with her strange, potent eyes. He felt pinned, fascinated and exposed. She looked at him coolly and assessingly for a moment, as if he was some object whose value she was minutely weighing up. He lifted his chin and stared back into the beautiful narrow face.
    Her eyes refocused; she was looking beyond him. David Hallwright was approaching. She got out of her chair and he jumped up awkwardly.
    She said something he couldn’t catch then she went towards Hallwright, and left him standing there.
    He moved away, feeling a bad combination of light-headed and overheated, and sat down next to Graeme, falling into an automatic conversation about golf.
    Later he walked across the room and saw Roza Hallwright among a group of women.
    ‘A silent auction’s always good,’ Trish said. ‘Hello Simon.’
    ‘You’re talking about fundraising,’ he said. ‘Over there the men are talking about golf.’
    The women turned to him. He said, ‘Do you ever feel these conversations aren’t really talk, not in the sense of talking about anything? They’re just a way of making friendly sounds. Like a group of animals, making the right noises, so they won’t be attacked.’
    Someone laughed.
    Trish rolled her eyes. ‘That’s very funny, darling. Actually, no, we’re getting a lot done. I’m sure you men are just grunting, though.’
    Simon felt irritation with Trish settle on him like a fly. Usually he controlled his feelings without effort, but tonight he was raw, as if Roza Hallwright’s cool gaze had stripped a layer off him, and he wenton, ‘It’s strange that no one talks about politics at these evenings.’
    ‘Well, David’s just made a long speech about politics, and we’re all on the same side here, aren’t we. We don’t need to be debating. How boring it would be if we did.’ Trish patted Simon’s arm and turned to Roza Hallwright. ‘Please excuse Simon. He’s very eccentric.’
    Mrs Hallwright turned to Simon. ‘What was that word you used?’
    ‘A word. I don’t know …’
    ‘Hyenas,’ she said. A look passed fleetingly over her face and he was struck by the intensity of it, as if a mask had lifted and he’d seen a real expression, something wild or even desperate but laughing too, and the expression was also familiar, so much so that he stared.
    ‘Hyenas. Charming.’ Trish was beginning to get annoyed.
    The women started talking about hyenas. ‘They’re sort of dogs aren’t they. What do they do. Pick over dead bodies. Don’t they laugh.’
    Trish stared at Simon. She said, ‘We were talking about a proposal we have for Roza.’
    ‘It’s a very good idea,’ Roza said to Trish. ‘You could ring me.’
    Trish looked as if she knew what that meant. She said in a treacly voice, ‘You must be looking forward to the election.’
    ‘Oh yes,’ Roza said.
    ‘You’ll be our first lady.’
    Roza smiled. ‘If David wins.’
    There was a chorus. ‘Of course he will. He can’t lose.’
    Trish said, ‘There’ll be a lot of responsibility. Won’t there. Meeting politicians. Travel. Life will change. No more quiet life at home.’
    ‘Yes, things will change.’ For a second Roza Hallwright and Trish looked at each other. Simon watched, fascinated. Trish didn’t look away. Red spots had appeared on her cheeks. Roza gave Trisha radiant smile, ‘Thank you so much,’ she said, and touched Trish’s arm. ‘You’re so full of energy and ideas. It’s miraculous.’ She turned away, putting a hand to her hair. ‘I must look for David.’
    Trish stared furiously after her. She took Simon’s arm and pulled him back to the table. ‘What’s wrong with you tonight? Hyenas.’ She pushed him into a seat,