The Long Summer of Monsieur Loiseau

Instead of being thrown out the window, Harry was pushed out the front door, followed by three of Alex's friends like musketeers to keep Harry from escaping.Alex skillfully drilled through the narrow, moss-smelling alleys, and led Harry into a tavern called "Puffin and Trident".

"Puffins and Tridents" is a leaning wood and stone cottage, behind the bar hangs a picture in a blackened copper frame with a bouquet of tridents in the background and a puffin soaking in a beer barrel .The bar technically has a second floor, but no one ever goes upstairs because of termite-eaten floors and rumors of being haunted.A wooden board nailed to the door informs customers that the tavern is open until [-]pm from May to August and closes at [-]pm from September to April.After this time, it is said—and it is said, no one has confirmed—that there will be an accident if you continue to stay. As for what the accident is and how it happened, there are too many versions, and no one is willing to check.

"It's all made up to attract customers, I'm sure." Alex picked out a table near the window and sent the burliest "Musketeer" off to get a beer.

Harry smiled. "No one is attracted to ghost stories and curses."

"I will." Alex winked at him and gestured toward the packed store. "Obviously these people will too."

The stocky Musketeer returned with four glasses of beer, two in each hand, the foam dripping all the way down his wrists.

"This is Digby. His father is an admiral. I guess that's why he is very used to following other people's orders." Alex introduced, and everyone except Harry laughed, including Digby himself. , "This is Barry, with an a in the middle, not an e," a boy with freckles shook hands with Harry, "and James." Alex pointed to the student wearing a dark green tie, James was wearing A pair of tortoiseshell-rimmed glasses made him look 20 years older. "Soldiers, this is Harry Prudence."

An interrogation had begun, and at least Harry felt like one. The "Musketeers" first asked him which college he was in in a curious and polite manner, and whether he already knew the name of his tutor; then asked Harry if he graduated from Eton by chance, and did not continue the topic after getting a negative answer . "There's an a in the middle, not an e," Barry tactfully asked Harry's father if the honorable Mr. Prudence worked in Whitehall.Harry told his esteemed Mr. Prudence that he was just a humble bank manager, and Barry clinked glasses with him, complimenting the job.Alex hadn't interrupted the whole time, just looked at Harry with a half-absent smile, the way one watches an untrained colt clumsily jumping over a hurdle.

The interrogation ended briefly when the second round of beer was brought to the table, Alex turned the topic to rowing, and Digby and James began to argue about the gap between Oxford and Cambridge over the past three years.Harry guessed that the Harrow musketeers were digesting the new information they had just unearthed, assessing where Harry should be placed on the social ladder, and treating him accordingly.

"What do you think the score will be next year, Harry?" James asked.

I am not a prophet. "I don't usually speculate," Harry replied.

"A logician, you should all learn," Barry interrupted.

"Forgive my curiosity." James took out a cigarette and matches from his jacket pocket, and lit one. "How did you and Alex meet?"

"We spent the summer together."

James loosened his tie and exhaled smoke: "It's a nice summer, I hope."

"you can say it this way."

Digby shrugged. "From this year at least, I won't have to spend the summer in the dreaded Piedmont mountains."

"I like Piedmont." Alex took the pack from James and lit one too. "Is there something wrong there?"

"Mountain."

"There are also charming Italian girls who sell cheese, you just can't explore." Barry drank the remaining beer in his glass in one gulp. "Anyone want to go to McAllister's basement?"

It seemed to be one of their frequent meeting places, for Digby and James agreed without hesitation.Alex refused, claiming that his father was going to dine with him tonight and that he had better get out as soon as possible if he wanted to get to London by dinner time.Digby paid everyone, threw his coat over his shoulders, and left the tavern with the other two Musketeers.Harry offered to accompany Alex to the train station, but the latter shook his head, telling him to stay where he was.

"I made it up, there's no dinner, Dad's in Cornwall, and he hates London." Alex stood up, sat next to Harry, and removed Barry's used glass, "I just don't want to fight with them." It's just pool, and once people start smoking, McAllister is like a gas chamber, and it's an Irish pub, by the way."

"Your friends are very," Harry thought for a moment, "active."

"I don't like them, so you don't need to be diplomatic," said Alex flatly, throwing the cigarette butt into the remnant of beer. "We both met at Harrow—not an accurate word, because Our fathers all knew each other, and we'd heard each other's names more than once before we went to Harrow. I bet they didn't like me very much either, Digby certainly didn't, but he didn't want to offend George— You remember George, don't you? - and we don't want to offend his admiral father either. Barry's father is the ambassador to Israel and probably the next foreign secretary, that's kind of a no-brainer, so it's best to have something Get ready. James' father is a judge, you see, dear Harry, this is a multilateral political marriage, pardon the metaphor."

"You threw me into the pack of wolves on purpose, please forgive me for this analogy."

"Very deliberate."

A tired-looking waiter came with an empty tray, took away the empty glass, stained with beer foam, and asked if they needed anything else, Alex shook his head.

"I should send a telegram home. Martha misses you." Alex gave Harry a look. "We all miss you."

"Is everyone okay?"

"Listen to what you're saying, Harry, 'Is everybody okay', like a 56-year-old estate lawyer. Yes, thanks, everybody's fine. Lila is married to a dentist, and if you're unlucky enough to need a root In spite of surgery, you can call her. George is still in the RAF, flying to Berlin regularly, as if fighting one battle is not enough, he wants to fight a second. Dad is not very happy, but it can't be helped. I compare Unfortunately he can't control his eldest son and daughter so he has to supervise me you know how dads are and thank God I'm finally out of Cornwall this year. It's not fair that you haven't talked about yourself, Harry. "

"I believe I've been talking about myself for the past hour, and your friends should be interrogators."

"You can start with 'the car drives out the door'." Alex raised his hand and called the waiter back. The poor man looked even more tired now. "Two cups of tea. If you serve tea, we should Will be here for a long time."

They did stay there for a long time.In August, "Puffins and Tridents" is open until [-] p.m.When they went back, the shadows of the building had dragged on for a long time, and then completely merged together in the late twilight.When the concierge saw them, he shouted "Good evening, Monsieur Loiseau, Monsieur Prudence", not so much as a courtesy, but as a warning: I remember when and with whom you go out, so it is best careful.

Alex's room was upstairs from Harry, and as long as no one was throwing a drunken party or playing a tortured violin, Harry could hear his friend moving upstairs, the dry crunch of the old planks Voice.This second-floor room next to the stairs was a noise box, and the most cautious footsteps and the quietest conversations on the stairs were clearly heard.When Barry tried to bring the two girls in once, Harry had to listen to an angry argument for four to ten minutes, and at one point there was the sound of glass shattering.Harry himself was rarely involved in such small adventures, mostly because he wasn't invited, he hardly knew anyone, and yet the others seemed to know each other long ago, and nothing made him feel more like an outsider.

There was a banging on his door late at night before Advent.Harry was reading Virgil, said fragments, but it was over ten pages long, and he had to shuffle through a dictionary.He ignored the knocking at the door at first, because every now and then a drunk student would find the wrong room or sing on the stairs.However, the knocking on the door did not stop, and the people outside seemed determined to come in.Harry put the pen in the dictionary casually, got up and opened the door.

"Good evening." Alex walked in without waiting for an invitation, and closed the door.

"You're drunk," Harry pointed out.

"a little."

"You can't keep doing this, you know."

"How has it been?" Alex pulled off his tie, he was still in his evening dress, Harry could smell cigars on him, it must belong to someone else, Alex didn't smoke cigars.

"Drunk." Harry went back to the desk and opened the dictionary. "And your room is upstairs."

"Maybe I like your room better."

"The only catch is that someone will knock on the door in the middle of the night." The pen was a bit leaky and had to be held at a certain angle so as not to drip the ink onto the paper. Harry absently wiped the black ink off his fingers, "You Where did you go?"

no answer.Alex fell asleep in his bed, the crumpled boutonniere beside the pillow.Harry hesitated for a moment, then stood up and pulled the blanket over his friend.There are still seven long hours before dawn, and he may really be able to finish reading this long boring and obscure poem tonight.

tbc.

Note: Advent is the fourth Sunday before Christmas.