Least Said (41 page)

He
went
back
to
gazing
from
the
window,
pointing
out
various
things
of
interest
to
Jon
who,
to
his
credit,
showed
a
huge
amount
of
excitement
at
the
sight
of
cows,
sheep
and
the
occasional
dog.

‘He
is
a
delightful
child,’
the
old
lady
said,
‘and
he
looks
so
much
like
you,
my
dear,
with
his
dark
hair
–
but,
tell
me,
where
does
he
get
those
beautiful
green
eyes
from?’

The
colour
drained
from
my
face;
I
could
actually
feel
it,
and
I
glanced
quickly
in
Jon’s
direction.
He
appeared
to
be
absorbed
in
Will’s
view
of
the
outside
world,
but
as
I
couldn’t
be
sure
he
hadn’t
heard
the
question
I
couldn’t
just
brush
it
off
or
try
to
ignore
it.

‘Well,’
I
said,
‘they’re
actually
more
hazel
really,
which
was
the
colour
of
my
grandmother’s
eyes,
though
they
can
look
green
in
a
certain
light
and,
of
course,
when
William
is
excited.’
I
actually
had
no
idea
what
colour
either
of
my
grandmothers’
eyes
were,
but
I
thought
it
sounded
believable.
Luckily,
the
lady
was
getting
off
at
the
next
stop
and
there
was
little
time
to
say
more
as
I
helped
her
gather
her
things
together.

Before
she
left
the
lady
handed
Will
a
five
pound
note,
ignoring
all
of
our
protests,
urging
him
to,
‘Have
a
wonderful
time.
I’m
sure
there
are
some
delightful
treats
in
store
for
you.’

The
exchange
with
the
old
lady
about
the
colour
of
Will’s
eyes
had
unsettled
me,
and
I
had
to
make
a
real
effort
to
join
in
as
we
approached
the
capital
and
Will’s
excitement
increased
accordingly.

Jon
had
booked
us
a
table
for
lunch
at
Bill’s
Restaurant,
which
he
had
obviously
chosen
for
its
close
proximity
to
the
Lyceum
Theatre.
On
reflection
that
hadn’t
been
the
smartest
move,
because
you
would
have
to
be
stupid
not
to
notice
that
The Lion King
was
being
advertised
outside
of
the
theatre
–
and
William
was
far
from
stupid.

He
wasn’t
even
out
of
the
taxi
before
he
was
shouting,
‘Look,
look,’
at
the
top
of
his
voice.

While
Jon
paid
the
taxi,
I
knelt
beside
Will
on
the
pavement
and,
having
decided
that
honesty
was
the
best
policy,
I
explained,
‘It’s
where
we’re
going,
Will,
to
see
the
stage
show
of
The Lion King
.’
I
watched
his
eyes
grow
big
and
round
and,
while
he
was
still
stunned
into
silence,
I
added,
‘but
first
we’re
having
lunch
in
this
restaurant.’

‘But...,’
he
began,
looking
yearningly
at
the
theatre.

‘There
are
no
lions
in
the
theatre
yet,
because
they’ve
also
gone
to
have
lunch.’

‘Lions
get
hungry,
too,’
Jon
joined
in,
winking
at
me.

We
went
into
the
restaurant
and
were
quickly
shown
to
a
table
by
a
pretty
waitress
who
didn’t
hesitate
when
Will
asked
her
if
the
lions
would
be
coming
in
there
for
their
lunch.

‘Well,’
she
said,
‘they
sometimes
do,
but
not
today.’
Then,
seeing
his
face
fall,
she
continued,
‘I
think
they
ate
early
today
because
they
heard
someone
special
was
coming
to
watch
the
show.’

‘Who
is
it?’
Will
asked,
entranced.

Behind
the
menu
she
was
passing
me,
she
mouthed,
‘What’s
his
name?’
and
I
mouthed
back,
‘William.’

‘Apparently,
someone
called
William
is
coming
to
see
the
show
and
they
want
to
make
sure
it’s
an
exceptional
performance
for
him
today.’

‘That’s
my
name,’
Will
told
her.

‘No?’
she
gasped.
‘It
must
be
you
they
were
talking
about
then.
Oh,
I’m
so
pleased
to
meet
you,
William.
You
must
be
a
very
special
little
boy
for
them
to
be
going
to
so
much
trouble.’

After
that,
even
with
Will’s
favourite
fish
finger
sandwiches
on
the
menu,
all
the
coaxing
in
the
world
wasn’t
going
to
get
more
than
a
bite
or
two
into
him.
We
also
found
it
extremely
difficult
to
enjoy
the
plain
grilled
steak
with
salad
–
no
dressing
–
we
had
specially
ordered
in
accordance
with
the
sperm
boosting
diet
we
were
following,
when
he
was
watching
every
mouthful
we
took
with
scarcely
concealed
impatience.