‘Darling! It’s me, Ursula!’ she said.
‘Good heavens!’ I said, surprised. ‘Where have you been all these years?’
‘Darling, I got married,’ she said. ‘I’ve had a baby.’
‘So I heard,’ I said. ‘Congratulations.’
‘Darling, I’ve been stuck down in the country for so long. I’ve got to come into Bournemouth today to do some shopping. I wondered whether we could meet?’
‘Are you bringing your husband with you?’ I asked cautiously.
‘No, darling, I’m just coming on my own,’ she said.
‘Well, in that case, by all means let us meet. I’ll buy you lunch. But first I’ll meet you in the Cadena for coffee.’
‘Marvellous, darling. I’ll be there at eleven o’clock,’ she said.
At eleven o’clock promptly she appeared through the doors of the Cadena cafe and I could see instantly that she was well on the way to expecting her second child. Apart from the protuberance of her stomach she had a glowing air about her, like rose petals in sunshine.
‘Darling!’ she screamed. ‘Darling! Darling!’
She flung her arms round me and gave me a prolonged kiss of the variety that is generally cut out of French films by the English censor. She made humming noises as she kissed, like a hive of sex-mad bees. She thrust her body against mine to extract the full flavour of the embrace and to show me that she really cared, really and truly. Several elderly ladies, and what appeared to be a brigadier who had been preserved (like a plum in port) stared at us with fascinated repulsion. You could tell, from their expressions, that they expected me to rip her clothes off her and rape her there, on the sacred floor of the Cadena. I tore myself loose from her with an effort.
‘I thought you were married,’ I said.
‘I am darling,’ she said. ‘Don’t you think my kissing’s improved?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Sit down and have some coffee.’
‘Can I have an ice cream?’ she asked.
‘All right,’ I said.
I ordered a coffee and an ice cream.
‘Well, I must say, you’re looking blooming,’ I said.
‘Do you think so?’
‘I think you’re looking wonderful. I see you’re going to have another one.’
She took a large mouthful of ice cream and spoke through it rather indistinctly.
‘Children are absholutely marvelloush.’
‘So I believe,’ I said.
She swallowed her mouthful of ice cream, leant forward and tapped my wrist with her moist spoon to gain my full attention.
‘Do you know what they say?’ she inquired in her penetrating voice.
Every table in the restaurant suspended operations and waited expectantly. I felt I might as well be hung for a sheep as for a lamb.
‘No,’ I said. ‘What do they say?’
‘Why,’ she said, waving her spoon happily, ‘contraception is a woman’s work.’
We had coffee and then I took Ursula shopping, and later we went to lunch.
‘Do you miss me, darling?’ she inquired as she sipped at her wine.
‘Of course I miss you.’ I said. ‘You were always one of my favourite girlfriends.’
‘Isn’t it a pity that one can’t have boyfriends and be married?’ she said.
‘Well, you can always try,’ I suggested.
‘Oh, no, I couldn’t do that,’ she said. ‘But you are sweet.’
‘Think nothing of it,’ I said.
‘Anyway, I don’t suppose you’d like me now,’ she said, wistfully. ‘I’ve reformed. I’ve become very dull.’
‘Do you think so?’ I asked, thinking how vital and sweet she was still.
‘Oh, yes,’ she said, looking at me solemnly with her great blue eyes. ‘I’m afraid I’m now what they call one of the petty beaujolais.’
‘Yes, but a vintage year,’ I said, raising my glass.
A MESSAGE FROM
THE DURRELL WILDLIFE CONSERVATION TRUST
The end of this book isn’t the end of Gerald Durrell’s story. The various experiences you have just read about gave impetus and inspiration to his lifetime crusade to preserve the rich diversity of animal life on this planet.
Although he died in 1995, the words of Gerald Durrell in this and his other books will continue to inspire people everywhere with love and respect for what he called ‘this magical world’. His work goes on through the untiring efforts of the Durrell Wildlife Conservation Trust.
Over the years many readers of Gerald Durrell’s books have been so motivated by his experiences and vision that they have wanted to continue the story for themselves by supporting the work of his Trust. We hope that you will feel the same way today because through his books and life, Gerald Durrell set us all a challenge. ‘Animals are the great voteless and voiceless majority,’ he wrote, ‘who can only survive with our help.’
Please don’t let your interest in conservation end when you turn this page. Write to us now and we’ll tell you how you can be part of our crusade to save animals from extinction. For further information, or to send a donation, write to:
Durrell Wildlife Conservation Trust
Les Augrès Manor
La Profonde Rue
Trinity
Jersey, Channel Islands
JE3 5BP
Or visit the website:
www.durrell.org
Bello:
hidden talent rediscovered!
Bello is a digital only imprint of Pan Macmillan, established to breathe new life into previously published, classic books.
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By Gerald Durrell
My Family and Other Animals
A Zoo in My Luggage
Birds, Beasts and Relatives
Garden of the Gods
The Overloaded Ark
The Talking Parcel
The Mockery Bird
The Donkey Rustlers
Catch Me a Colobus
Beasts in My Belfry
The New Noah
The Drunken Forest
The Whispering Land
Rosy is My Relative
Two in the Bush
Three Singles to Adventure
The Ark’s Anniversary
Golden Bats and Pink Pigeons
Menagerie Manor
The Picnic and Suchlike Pandemonium
The Bafut Beagles
Marrying off Mother and Other Stories
The Aye-Aye And I
Fillets of Plaice
Ark on the Move
Encounters with Animals
The Stationary Ark
First published in 1971 by Collins
This edition published 2012 by Bello
an imprint of Pan Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited
Pan Macmillan, 20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR
Basingstoke and Oxford
Associated companies throughout the world
www.panmacmillan.com/imprints/bello
www.curtisbrown.co.uk
ISBN 978-1-4472-1449-6 EPUB
ISBN 978-1-4472-1448-9 POD
Copyright © Gerald Durrell, 1971
The right of Gerald Durrell to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Illustrations by Gynelle Alves. Reproduced by permission of Gynelle Alves.
Every effort has been made to contact the copyright holders of the material reproduced in this book. If any have been inadvertently overlooked, t
he publisher will be pleased to make restitution at the earliest opportunity.
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Gerald Durrell, Fillets of Plaice
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