Mood Indigo Read Online Free Page A

Chick.
    â€˜I’m bound to find a girl tomorrow …’
    But his thoughts still lingered on Alyssum.
    â€˜Do they really discuss Jean Pulse Heartre when they’re alone? …’
    But perhaps it was best not to think about what they did when they were alone together.
    â€˜How many articles has Jean Pulse Heartre written during the last year? …’
    At any rate, there wasn’t enough time for him to count them all before he got home.
    â€˜I wonder what Nicholas is making for this evening …’
    When you came to think about it, the likeness between Alyssum and Nicholas wasn’t all that extraordinary since they both belonged to the same family. He was slyly creeping back to the forbidden topic and he quickly thought about something else.
    â€˜How I wonder what Nicholas – who is so much like Alyssum – is making for this evening …’
    â€˜Nicholas is eleven years older than Alyssum. That makes him twenty-nine. He’s a tremendously gifted cook. He’s going to make a casserole.’
    Colin was almost home.
    â€˜Flower-shops never have shutters. Nobody ever thinks of stealing flowers.’
    That was logical enough. He picked a grey and orange orchid with a delicate trembling tendril. Its colours shimmered in the light like shot silk.
    â€˜It’s just like the mouse with the black whiskers … And I’m home!’
    Colin went up the stone staircase that was wrapped in its thick winter woollies. Into the lock in the door of silvered glass he introduced a little golden key.
    â€˜Hither, my faithful lackeys! … Your master is returned! …’
    He flung his mac on to a chair and went to look for Nicholas.

6
    â€˜Nicholas, are you going to make a casserole tonight?’ asked Colin.
    â€˜Good Lord,’ said Nicholas, ‘Mr Colin didn’t ask me to.I’d thought of something quite different.’
    â€˜Caterwauling cockleshells!’ said Colin. ‘Why must you always talk to me perpetually in the third person?’
    â€˜If Mr Colin will give me permission to explain my reasons, sir, I should like to state that I find any familiarity permissible only after the barriers have been consistently respected on both sides – and that certainly is not the case here.’
    â€˜You’re a bloody snob, Nicholas,’ said Colin.
    â€˜I have the pride of my position, sir,’ said Nicholas, ‘and you can’t complain about that.’
    â€˜Of course not,’ said Colin. ‘But I wish you weren’t always so aloof.’
    â€˜I have a sincere affection for Mr Colin underneath, sir,’ said Nicholas.
    â€˜And I’m proud of it – and happy too, Nicholas – and I feel just the same about you. Therefore … what are you going to make tonight?’
    â€˜Once again I shall remain within the ffroyddian tradition by making musk-antler bangers with port and mash.’
    â€˜And how are you going to do that?’ said Colin.
    â€˜This is the recipe. Take a bunch of musk-antler bangers and skin them, taking no heed whatsoever of their screams. Carefully preserve the skins. Alternate rounds of the musk-antler bangers with sliced lobster claws that have been previously tossed in hot butter. Place them on ice in a pan. Heighten the flame and, in the space thereby gained, tastefully arrange little rings of coddled rice. When the bangers emit a continuous low note, take them swiftly from the flame and cover with rare old tawny port. Stir in with a platinum spatula. Grease a tin to prevent it rusting and then line it with the bangers. Just before serving, make a thick sauceof periwinkles, parsley and a pint of pure cream. Sprinkle with valerian drops, garnish with the rice rings, serve … and disappear.’
    â€˜I’m starving,’ said Colin. ‘I can’t wait. Your ffroyde is a genius. But tell me, Nicholas, do you think it will make me get a pimple on my nose