Achilles Cleverley
Actually, you don’t fancy meeting this evening, do you? Don’t think I want to wait until tomorrow!
And it only took a minute or two before Jeremy’s reply arrived:
Jeremy Arlo
Absolutely! Where are you?
WE
The atmosphere in the living room was strained when Elizabeth came downstairs to open the front door to Wilkes and, as they walked inside to join her parents, she could tell they’d been discussing the reaction to her father’s latest antics on television. Husband and wife sat facing each other on opposite sofas while Ustym Karmaliuk stood silently on the glass table between the two, his small head moving back and forth, as if he was an umpire on the court of play.
‘I was just telling your father,’ announced Beverley in a regal tone, without so much as a hello, ‘that he’s a moron.’
‘Well, of course he’s a moron,’ said Elizabeth. ‘That’s old news.’
‘Do you know, it’s such a joy to have a supportive family,’ replied George, walking over to the drinks cabinet, where he poured himself a large whisky and made a point of ignoring everyone else’s needs. ‘At a time like this, when it feels as if the entire world is turning on me, at least I know I can return home to the warm embrace of my nearest and dearest and they will tell me how loved and respected I am. Hello, Wilkes. What’s that on your head? Is it a small fox? And would it be terribly rude if I remarked that I can smell you from here? I have a horrible feeling that you might be decomposing.’
‘It’s a man bun,’ replied Wilkes, putting a hand to the tiny dark hillock at the back of his head. ‘And I’m not surprised. I haven’t had a wash in eight days.’
Beverley turned to look at him, wrinkling her nose.
‘I beg your pardon?’ she said.
‘It’s a new regime that I’ve started,’ he said, sitting down on the sofa next to her, which immediately made her stand up and move to the window seat. ‘Do you know, the human body is actually self-cleaning?’
‘Like our new oven,’ added Elizabeth helpfully.
‘What on earth are you talking about?’ asked George.
‘It’s true. We spend so much of our time taking baths and showers, scrubbing layers off our epidermis, then adding pollutants to our skin, but in reality, after a couple of weeks, the body releases its own natural purifiers and cleans itself. In fact, the more soap you use, the more your skin dries out.’
‘I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous in all my life,’ said Beverley. ‘And I speak as someone who once heard Jeffrey Archer delivering a lecture to the Royal Society of Literature.’
‘In fact, it’s only in the last century or so that people have started to use shampoo,’ continued Wilkes, warming to his theme. ‘And in the last few decades we’ve become inundated with hand soaps, shower gels and bath salts which, yes, might make us smell nice for a couple of hours, but they’re not natural, are they? Why should a person smell of pomegranate seeds and cassis, after all? A person should smell of person.’
‘Well, you certainly do,’ said George. ‘You smell like all the people of the world, since the dawn of time, put together into one big blender. Are we going to be forced to put up with this unholy stench until our daughter comes to her senses and breaks up with you?’
‘Not for too long, no,’ said Wilkes. ‘Another few weeks and you won’t even notice it. By then, I’ll have become entirely self-cleaning. Look at the turtle, after all,’ he added, nodding towards Ustym Karmaliuk, who turned his head at the mention of him but wore a disgusted expression, as if even he found the man repulsive. ‘You don’t see him lathering up with Jo Malone Geranium and Walnut shower scrub, do you? Or washing his paws with Molton Brown Lime and Patchouli handwash?’
‘I have three comments to make and then a question to ask,’ declared Beverley, clearing her throat. ‘First, he’s a tortoise, not a turtle. Second, they are not paws, they are feet. And third, for someone who is opposed to personal cleaning products, you certainly seem to know the names of a lot of luxury brands, not to mention the various lines they produce. Finally, my question. Speaking as a mother, what about, you know, when you use the bathroom? Do you not wash your hands afterwards?’
‘I rinse them, yes,’ he admitted. ‘In cold water. But I don’t use any unnatural detergents.’
‘I shall never touch you again,’ said Beverley, shivering.
‘You’ve never touched me before.’
‘Well, I shall never touch you for the first time, then. Anyway, I don’t think I can deal with any of this right now. Can’t you both go somewhere else? Your father and I are discussing his idiocy.’
‘We have opposing points of view, I might add,’ said George.
‘Actually,’ said Elizabeth, sitting down next to her boyfriend, before reconsidering and moving to the other sofa. ‘There’s something we wanted to talk to you about.’
‘Please don’t tell me he’s proposed,’ said George.
‘No, I don’t believe in traditional marriage,’ said Wilkes. ‘It only encourages outdated notions of a woman’s place in society.’
‘Hear, hear,’ agreed Elizabeth. ‘Although I would like a nice day out at some point in the future. I’ve always imagined having my wedding reception at the Savoy. What do you think, Daddy?’
‘It depends on who’s waiting for you at the other end of the aisle, my love. And whether or not he’s run a wet flannel over his face that morning.’
‘Actually, before we get into our big news,’ said Wilkes, ‘there is something else I’d just like to clarify. Going forward, I mean.’
‘Have we become a commercial business?’ asked George. ‘Are you going to give us directives and goals, then drill down to incentivize our core competency?’
‘This is the great news I mentioned earlier,’ he said, turning to Elizabeth.
‘Oh yes, I forgot about that. Is it to do with the lepers?’
‘The leopards?’ asked Beverley, frowning. ‘What leopards? If you think you’re bringing a leopard into this house, then you have another think coming. It would eat Ustym Karmaliuk on sight, and who knows what it might do to Achilles? It would be such a shame to spoil that beautiful face. He’s the only one of my children who one might call conventionally attractive. No offence.’
‘What’s your great news?’ asked Elizabeth, choosing to set this latest insult aside as she turned to her boyfriend. Wilkes broke into a proud, self-satisfied smile.
‘The thing is,’ he said, ‘from now on, I would appreciate it if you would stop referring to me as he.’
‘I’m sorry?’ said George.
‘That’s all right. No need to apologize. You weren’t to know.’
‘I wasn’t apologizing. I was expressing the fact that I haven’t the slightest clue what you’re talking about.’
‘Whatever this is,’ said Elizabeth, ‘perhaps it can wait until another time? When we don’t have our other news to impart?’