Authenticity Read Online Free

Roderic?’ he’d looked, if anything, even more ill at ease and stared at the carpet. ‘Grand, grand,’ he said, ‘the work’s going grand.’ Everyone was relieved, even Dennis, when he finally made his excuses and lumbered out.
    ‘I do try,’ he protested, ‘and I do like them, you know that. I’ve always been particularly fond of Arthur, and I’m even getting on fairly well with Maeve these days. Speaking of families,’ he went on, reaching for his jacket which was folded on the couch beside him, ‘this arrived last week.’ From an inside pocket he took an envelope with an Italian stamp and passed the colour photograph it contained to Dennis. As his brother studied it, Roderic sat behind his coffee cup with his arms folded, pleased by Dennis’sadmiring comments. When he handed back the photo Roderic himself looked at it for a few moments before replacing it in the envelope, and then they sat in silence for a few minutes.
    ‘I’m going to a concert later this evening,’ Dennis eventually remarked, ‘and I have to eat first. I wondered if you would like to come and have a plate of pasta with me, somewhere near here.’
    ‘Now that’s an invitation I would like to take up, but I’m afraid I can’t.’ Dennis again drank from his Guinness, leaving a pause he hoped Roderic might fill by divulging his plans for the evening. But Roderic was up to this trick.
    ‘What are you going to hear?’ he asked, picking up his cup in turn.
    ‘Beethoven Piano Concerto. The Fifth.’
    ‘Great stuff. You’re so well organised. Have you a season ticket again for this year?’ Dennis nodded. ‘We must arrange to go to something together soon. And I’m really sorry I can’t eat with you tonight.’
    ‘Another time.’
    ‘I’m going to have another coffee, what can I get you?’
    Dennis put his spread palm over the top of his glass. ‘I’m fine, thanks,’ he said, and he watched as his brother unfurled himself from his seat and went over to the bar. Roderic never had any trouble getting served in pubs, no matter how busy, for he towered over all around him, and it was impossible for any barman not to notice him. Not that there was any difficulty today, for it was early in the week and although a few office workers, like Dennis, had filtered in for a drink, it was a quiet evening. Contented and relaxed, he gazed down the length of the long, dim room with its marble counter, its elaborate lamps and wooden fittings, and watched the smoke from someone’s cigarette twist and drift in the quiet air.
    ‘I like this pub,’ he said, as Roderic made his way back to the table, a cup and saucer clutched gingerly in hisbig paw. ‘It’s good to be able to meet you in a place like this,’ he added carefully. ‘You’re looking ever so well these days.’
    ‘Aren’t I great?’ Roderic said with no discernible irony. ‘It’s three years now. I never take it for granted, Dennis, not for a minute.’
    ‘Nor do I.’ They had almost said too much. They fell silent as Roderic emptied two packets of sugar into his coffee. ‘Work’s going well too. Sold a painting last week, a big one. What about yourself, how’s it going in the bank?’
    ‘Much as ever; it’s fine.’
    ‘What about the hill walking, are you getting out at all these days?’
    ‘I’d be lost without it. I was up in Glencree on Sunday. Walk for miles then stand, just listen to the silence. Magical.’
    Roderic had changed his position slightly when he sat down again, leaving Dennis a clear view of the length of the room. As they talked about his day in Wicklow, the front door of the pub opened and a young woman came in: scruffy, and wild haired. He casually watched her progress. Although there were plenty of empty places at the front and middle, she was moving down towards the corner beside the back door, where Dennis and Roderic were sitting. By the time the penny dropped, and Dennis realised what was happening, she had come up right behind Roderic