Corduroy Mansions Page 0,4

or Kenneth Williams or Liberace, for that matter. “CREEP was the name of the committee that President Nixon—he was a president of the United States, you know—had working for his reelection. The Committee to Re-elect the President. CREEP was the acronym.” Dee seemed to be paying very little attention to him, but William was used to that. He was terribly old by her standards. She was twenty-eight and he was in his late forties (well, early fifties if one was going to be pedantic). He was old enough to be her father, a thought which depressed him. He did not want to be a father figure to the young women who lived in the flat below. He wanted them to look upon him as a … friend. But it was too late for that. Being realistic, there were just not enough shared references in their respective worlds to allow for much of a friendship. The most he could hope for was a reasonably neighbourly relationship in which they did not condescend to him too much.

“How does Jenny get on with Snark?” asked William. “Does she share your low opinion of him?”

Dee became animated. “Yes. She really does. She hates him. She thinks he’s gross.”

“I see.”

“But then everybody hates him,” Dee continued. “Even his mother.”

William laughed. “Surely not. Mothers rarely hate their sons. It’s a very non-maternal thing to do. Particularly if one’s son is called Oedipus.”

He waited for her to react. But nothing came.

“Oedipus—” he began.

“But this one does,” interrupted Dee. “Jenny told me all about it. She can’t conceal it. She hates him intensely.”

“How does Jenny know all this?”

“His mother has spoken to her about it. She said, ‘I wish I didn’t dislike my son so much, but I do. I can’t help it.’” She paused. “And she’s plotting against him.”

William was silent. Mothers should not plot against their sons … and nor should fathers. And yet was that not exactly what he was doing? He was plotting against Eddie in that he was making plans for Eddie’s exclusion from the flat. But that was different: he was not working for Eddie’s downfall, merely for his moving out. It was a different sort of plot, but nevertheless he felt a degree of shame about it. And yet at the same time, he felt a certain satisfaction at the sheer cunning of his idea. Eddie could not abide dogs and was petrified of even the smallest and most unthreatening breeds. It would not be necessary, then, for William to buy himself an Alsatian or a Rottweiler; a mere terrier would do the trick. If a dog moved into the house, then Eddie would have to move out. It was a very simple and really rather clever plan.

William smiled.

“What’s so funny?” asked Dee.

“Nothing much,” said William. “Just an idea I’ve had.”

4. A Generous Offer

“HALF THE TIME,” said Dee, “I can’t follow what he’s going on about. It was Watergate this morning. Watergate and some guy called Nixon.”

“Old people wander a bit,” said Martin, her colleague at the Pimlico Vitamin and Supplement Agency. “I had an uncle—or something—who lost all his nouns. He had a stroke and all the nouns went. So he used the word ‘concept’ for any noun. He’d say things like ‘Pass the concept’ when he wanted you to pass the salt.”

Dee frowned. William was not all that old. But there was no need to correct Martin on that; the interesting thing was the salt issue. “He ate a lot of salt?”

“I think so.”

“Well, there you are,” said Dee. “Sodium blockages. You know I’ll never forget when I went for iridology the first time and the iridologist looked into my eyes and said, ‘You eat a lot of salt.’ And it was true. I really freaked out.”

Martin looked concerned. “How do they tell?”

“Sodium rings in the eyes,” said Dee. “It’s pretty obvious.”

Martin was silent. Then, after a few moments, “Could you tell? Yourself, I mean. Would you be able to tell if you looked into my eyes?”

Dee smiled. “Maybe. Do you want me to?”

It took Martin a minute or so to decide. Then he said, “Yes. It’s better to know, isn’t it?”

“Of course you must know anyway,” said Dee. “You must know whether you eat too much salt. Do you?”

Martin looked away. “Maybe sometimes.”

“All right.”

There were no customers in the Vitamin and Supplement Agency at the time and Dee pointed to a chair in front of the counter. “Sit down, Martin. No, don’t close your eyes. I’m going to