“Why not?” I said. “Laura’s very glamorous.” Raymond sighed. “It’s a bit more complicated than that, Eleanor, isn’t it?” he said.
“I think she’s probably a bit... high maintenance for me, if you know what I mean?”
“Not really, no,” I said. “She’s not my type, to be honest.”
He took a noisy mouthful of beer. “I mean, looks are important, of course they are,
but you’ve got to be able to have a laugh, enjoy each other’s company too, you know?
I’m not sure me and Laura have got that much in common.I shrugged, not knowing how best to respond.
It was hardly my area of expertise. We were silent for a moment.
He was looking terribly pale and uncomfortable. Classic hangover symptoms.
Thankfully I never suffered from them, blessed as I am with an iron constitution.
I ordered an omelet made by the chef, Arnold Bennett, and Raymond went for the full cooked breakfast with extra fried bread.
“Had quite a lot of Jack Daniel’s with Desi after I got home last night,” he explained. “That should soak it up.”
“Don’t make a habit of the drinks, Raymond,” I said sadly. “You don’t want to end up like me, do you?”
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