Читать онлайн «The Savages»

This book is dedicated to my children,

who put up with my cooking on a daily basis

APERITIF

At the table, Titus Savage spotted his son picking his teeth with one finger.

‘Manners,’ he reminded the boy quietly. ‘We’re not animals. ’

As he spoke, the rest of the family continued with their dessert. Everyone seemed subdued and even exhausted, which was in complete contrast to when they sat down to eat. It was the boy, Ivan, who had been first to finish. Like any twelve-year-old with nothing left on his plate, he began to fidget and sigh to himself.

‘Can I get down now?’ he asked hopefully. ‘My computer’s waiting for me to make the next move at chess. I will beat it this time. ’

His father responded by inviting him to look around.

‘When everyone is ready,’ he said. ‘This is a special occasion, after all. ’

At the opposite end of the table from Titus sat an angel. At least that’s how Titus viewed his wife, Angelica. Without her, family life would fall apart. She kept the house immaculate, and her cooking today had been simply divine. Titus caught her eye as she spooned the last of the dessert into her mouth. It was a trifle she had prepared, using a home-made recipe for the jelly. Like every course of the meal they had enjoyed, the taste was unusual but compelling. For a moment, Angelica looked embarrassed.

It was as if she felt she should not have been caught losing herself to the taste quite so openly. Still, Titus seemed to relish her expression. He sat back, clasped his hands across a surprisingly lean stomach given the amount of food he’d just consumed, and considered his children. While Ivan had already finished, his sister continued to take small, almost reluctant mouthfuls. Titus recognised that the family had put away a feast. Even so, he was surprised to see her looking quite so indifferent to clearing her plate.

‘Something on your mind, Sasha?’ Titus reached for his water glass to freshen his palate. ‘This is your favourite, no?’

‘I’m good,’ she said, without looking up.

Both kids had inherited his crow-black hair. Sasha kept her locks pinned neatly with a series of clips, while Ivan’s high hair line suggested it would one day whiten, thin and recede just as Titus had experienced as a younger man. Nowadays, he shaved his dome on a daily basis. Titus found it commanded respect, especially in the workplace. Right now, however, his attention was locked on his eldest child. Sasha ran her spoon around the inside of the bowl but was clearly just toying with it. He glanced at his wife, seeking some explanation for their daughter’s behaviour. Angelica just shrugged as if to suggest that she was none the wiser.

‘Are you feeling poorly, honey?’ Angelica had spent much of the day preparing this meal. As ever, it had all been planned meticulously, from sourcing the ingredients to the cooking and the ceremonial serving. For Titus to see their firstborn show such a lack of enthusiasm was frankly a little insulting. ‘There’s nothing wrong with it, is there?’