While we were still coping with these three, another guest arrived in the shape of Melanie, Countess de Torro. She was tall, thin, with a face like an ancient horse, crow-black eyebrows, and an enormous cushion of scarlet hair on her head. She had hardly been in the house five minutes before she complained of the heat, and to mother's consternation and my delight, she caught hold of her scarlet hair and removed it, revealing a head as bald as a mushroom top. Seeing Mother's startled gaze, the Countess explained in her harsh, croaking voice. 'I've just recovered from erysipelas,' she said; 'lost all my hair . . . couldn't find eyebrows and wig to match in Milan... might get something in Athens.'
It was unfortunate that, owing to a slight impediment due to ill-fitting false teeth, the Countess was inclined to mumble, so Mother was under the impression that the disease she had just recovered from was of a much more unladylike character. At the first available opportunity she got Larry into a corner.
'Disgusting!' she said in a vibrant whisper. 'Did you hear what she's had? And you call her a friend.'
Friend?' said Larry in surprise. 'Why, I hardly know her ... can't stand the woman; but she's an interesting character and I wanted to study her at close hand.'
'I like that,' said Mother indignantly. 'So you invite that creature here and we all catch some revolting disease while you take notes. No, I'm sorry, Larry, but she'll have to go.'
'Don't be silly, Mother,' said Larry irritably; 'you can't catch it... not unless you intend to share a bed with her.'
'Don't be revolting* said Mother, glaring. 'I won't stand that obscene person in this house.'
They argued in whispers for the rest of the day, but Mother was adamant. Eventually Larry suggested asking Theodore out and getting his opinion on the matter, and to this Mother agreed. So a note was despatched, asking Theodore to come out and spend the day. His reply accepting the invitation was brought by a carriage in which reclined the cloak-swathed form of Zatopec, who, it turned out, had drunk a farewell of prodigious size to Corfu, got on the wrong boat, and ended up in Athens. As by then he had missed his appointment in Bosnia, he had philosophically boarded the next vessel back to Corfu, bringing with him several crates of wine. Theodore turned up the next day, wearing, as a concession to summer, a panama instead of his usual homburg. Before Mother had a chance to warn him about our hairless guest, Larry had introduced them.
'A doctor?' said Melanie, Countess de Torro, her eyes gleaming. 'How interesting. Perhaps you can advise me.... I've just had erysipelas.'
'Ah ha! Really?' said Theodore, eyeing her keenly. 'Which ... er ... treatment did you have?'
They embarked on a long and technical discussion with enthusiasm, and it was only the most determined efforts on Mother's part that got them away from what she still considered to be an indelicate subject.
'Really, Theodore's as bad as that woman,' she said to Larry. 'I do try and be broad-minded, but there is a limit, and I don't think things like that should be discussed at tea.'
Later Mother got Theodore alone, and the subject of the Countess's disease was explained. Mother was then stricken with a guilty conscience at having misjudged the woman, and was immensely affable to her for the rest of the day, even telling her to take her wig off if she felt the heat.
The dinner that night was colourful and extraordinary, and I was so fascinated by the assembly of characters and the various conversations that I did not know which one to listen to with undivided attention. The lamps smoked gently and cast a warm, honey-coloured light over the table, making the china and glass glitter, and setting fire to the red wine as it splashed into the glasses.
'But, dear boy, you have missed the meaning of it... yes, yes, you have!' Zatopec's voice booming out, his nose curving over his wine glass. 'You cannot discuss poetry as if it were house painting....'
'... so I says to 'im, "I'm not doing a bleeding drawing for less than a tenner a time, so that's dirt cheap," I says...'
... and the next morning I was paralysed .. . shocked beyond everything . . . thousands of blossoms, bruised and torn I say I vill never paint again... my nerves had been shattered... the whole orchard gone... phuit! like that... and there vas I. . .'
'... and then, of course, I had the sulphur baths.'
'Ah, yes . . . um . . . though, mind you, I think the bath treatment is ... er... a little... er... you know ... a little overrated. I believe that ninety-two per cent of sufferers ...'
The plates of food, piled like volcanoes, steaming gently; the early fruit in a polished pile in the centre dish; Lugaretzia hobbling round the table, groaning gently to herself; Theodore's beard twinkling in the lamplight; Leslie carefully manufacturing bread pellets to shoot at a moth that hovered round the lamps; Mother, ladling out the food, smiling vaguely at everyone and keeping a watchful eye on Lugaretzia; under the table Roger's cold nose pressed hard against my knee in mute appeal.
Margo and the still-wheezing Michael discussing art: '... but then I think that Lawrence does that sort of thing so much better. He has a certain rich bloom, as it were... don't you agree? I mean, take Lady Chatterley, eh?
'Oh, yes, quite. And then, of course, he did wonderful things in the desert, didn't he?... and writing that wonderful book . . . the ... er ... The Seven Pillows of Wisdom, or whatever it was called...'Larry and the Countess discussing art:'... but you must have the straightforward simplicity, the clarity of a child's eyes.... Take the finest fundamental verse ... take Humpty Dumpty.... Now, there's poetry for you... the simplicity and freedom from cliches and out-dated shibboleths ...'
'... but then it's useless prating about the simple approach to poetry if you're going to produce jingles which are about. as straightforward and uncomplicated as a camel's stomach ...' Mother and Durant:'... and you can imagine the effect it had on me... I vas shattered.'
'Yes, you must have been. Such a shame, after all that trouble. Will you have a little more rice?
Jonquil and Theodore:'... and the Latvian peasants... well, I've never seen anything like it...'
'Yes, here in Corfu and ... er ... I believe ... in some parts of Albania, the peasants have a very ... er ... similar custom . ..'
Outside, the moon's face was peering through a filigree of vine-leaves, and the owls were giving their strange, chiming cries. Coffee and wine were served on the balcony, between the vine-shaggy pillars. Larry strummed on the guitar and sang an Elizabethan marching song. This reminded Theodore of one of his fantastic but true Corfu anecdotes, which he related to us with impish glee.
'As you know, here in Corfu nothing is ever done the correct way. Everyone starts out with the ... er ... best intentions, but something always seems to go wrong. When the Greek king visited the island some years ago the . . . er . . . climax of his tour was to be a ... er ... sort of stage show ... a play. The climax of the drama was the Battle of Thermopylae, and, as the curtain fell, the Greek army was supposed to drive ... um ... the Persian army triumphantly into the . . . what d'you call them? Ah, yes, the wings. Well, it appears that the people playing the part of the Persians were a bit disgruntled at the thought of having to retreat in front of the king, and the fact that they had to play the part of Persians also. . you know . . . rankled. It only required a little incident to set things off. Unfortunately, during the battle scene the leader of the Greek army . . . um . . . misjudged the distance and caught the leader of the Persian army quite a heavy blow with his wooden sword. This, of course, was an accident. I mean to say, the poor fellow didn't mean to do it. But nevertheless it was sufficient to ... er ... inflame the Persian army to such an extent that instead of... er... retreating, they advanced. The centre of the stage became a milling mob of helmeted soldiers locked in mortal combat. Two of them were thrown into the orchestra pit before someone had the sense to lower the curtain. The king remarked later that he had been greatly impressed by the... um... realism shown in the battle scene.'