people were up to and came to a sticky end. It’s used of academics to suggest, rightly, that with a very few exceptions they have no grasp of what goes on in the real world.’
Betsy was frowning with concentration. ‘Does figurative mean like a picture in your mind that like helps you get an idea?’
‘You’ve got it. A metaphor.’
Betsy looked blank again.
‘Betsy, didn’t you tell me earlier that you were studying English?’
‘You don’t really do like much English as English here, Lady Troutbeck. You’ve got to see it through different kinds of specialist studies and this year most of my programme is Women’s Studies.’
‘I take it you learn no grammar, no figures of speech, nothing like that.’
‘Our professor says things like that are like repressive and patriarchal.’ Betsy laughed. ‘Hey, maybe she like lives in an ivory tower and isn’t normal like me.’
‘So tell me something about you normal people. You’re a student. Why are you squiring me about? Why aren’t you in the library?’
‘My parents don’t have much money, so I work as well as study. Mostly I drive visitors around and right now I’m helping look after VIPs. It’s really exciting. I get to meet such interesting people.’
‘Like whom?’
‘Well, like you. You’re my second, but I met a lord from England last week. And I’ve never met a lord before.’
‘Who was this English lord?’
‘Lord Cunningham. He’s another DVP.’
‘DVP?’
‘Distinguished Visiting Professor.’
‘Cunningham? Not Rowley Cunningham? Squat little chap with glasses.’
‘He’s short and has glasses. He’s here like to do a programme at the Peace Centre.’
The baroness snorted. ‘Hell and damnation! What a creature to meet up with here. Never could stand the little prat. Talk about giving peace a bad name….’
‘He was a bit cross,’ said Betsy. ‘So were you, but you said sorry.’
‘So how was he interesting?’
Betsy giggled. ‘I just like said that to be like positive. I thought he was a bit mean really. He shouted at me for being late, but like it wasn’t my fault cos he caught an earlier airplane than he said. And then on the way he asked me was I ashamed of living in like the most hated country in the world.’
‘Sounds like the little bastard. What did you say?’
‘I said I was totally proud to be an American and then he was totally rude about the President being like a war-monger. I don’t think it’s cool to go to a foreign country and start insulting it the minute you like land.’
‘Like I have,’ grinned the baroness.
‘You’ve only been rude about silly stuff.’
‘I wouldn’t call food and drink silly stuff.’ The baroness grimaced as she nibbled on a piece of garlic bread. ‘Rotten bread. Still, essentially you’re right. He had no right to say what he did to a stranger. You did well to stand up to him. America has its faults, but it’s a great and generous country and you can usually guarantee that the people who hate it are ignorant or envious shits. Or both.’ She pushed away her bread plate and returned miserably to the salad. ‘So what were you doing before you went on VIP duty?’
‘I was a cheerleader.’
The baroness sat up. ‘Really. But wasn’t that a hobby, not a job?’
‘Oh, no. I got a scholarship for cheerleading and I had to spend 25 hours a week on it.’
‘So what happened?’
Betsy looked at her plate. ‘I like flunked out.’
‘Not good enough?’
‘Sort of. But I’m really glad I’m doing this instead.’
‘You’re a real little Pollyanna, aren’t you, Betsy?’
Betsy was confused. ‘Pollyanna?’
‘Dear God, don’t they teach you anything? Pollyanna is a fictional character who was—if my memory serves me—hoping for a dolly from the bran tub.’
‘The bran tub?’
‘It was, I thought, an American custom to hide prizes in a bran tub and have a lucky dip.’
‘Oh.’
‘I see we have a generational as well as a cultural
Betsy was frowning with concentration. ‘Does figurative mean like a picture in your mind that like helps you get an idea?’
‘You’ve got it. A metaphor.’
Betsy looked blank again.
‘Betsy, didn’t you tell me earlier that you were studying English?’
‘You don’t really do like much English as English here, Lady Troutbeck. You’ve got to see it through different kinds of specialist studies and this year most of my programme is Women’s Studies.’
‘I take it you learn no grammar, no figures of speech, nothing like that.’
‘Our professor says things like that are like repressive and patriarchal.’ Betsy laughed. ‘Hey, maybe she like lives in an ivory tower and isn’t normal like me.’
‘So tell me something about you normal people. You’re a student. Why are you squiring me about? Why aren’t you in the library?’
‘My parents don’t have much money, so I work as well as study. Mostly I drive visitors around and right now I’m helping look after VIPs. It’s really exciting. I get to meet such interesting people.’
‘Like whom?’
‘Well, like you. You’re my second, but I met a lord from England last week. And I’ve never met a lord before.’
‘Who was this English lord?’
‘Lord Cunningham. He’s another DVP.’
‘DVP?’
‘Distinguished Visiting Professor.’
‘Cunningham? Not Rowley Cunningham? Squat little chap with glasses.’
‘He’s short and has glasses. He’s here like to do a programme at the Peace Centre.’
The baroness snorted. ‘Hell and damnation! What a creature to meet up with here. Never could stand the little prat. Talk about giving peace a bad name….’
‘He was a bit cross,’ said Betsy. ‘So were you, but you said sorry.’
‘So how was he interesting?’
Betsy giggled. ‘I just like said that to be like positive. I thought he was a bit mean really. He shouted at me for being late, but like it wasn’t my fault cos he caught an earlier airplane than he said. And then on the way he asked me was I ashamed of living in like the most hated country in the world.’
‘Sounds like the little bastard. What did you say?’
‘I said I was totally proud to be an American and then he was totally rude about the President being like a war-monger. I don’t think it’s cool to go to a foreign country and start insulting it the minute you like land.’
‘Like I have,’ grinned the baroness.
‘You’ve only been rude about silly stuff.’
‘I wouldn’t call food and drink silly stuff.’ The baroness grimaced as she nibbled on a piece of garlic bread. ‘Rotten bread. Still, essentially you’re right. He had no right to say what he did to a stranger. You did well to stand up to him. America has its faults, but it’s a great and generous country and you can usually guarantee that the people who hate it are ignorant or envious shits. Or both.’ She pushed away her bread plate and returned miserably to the salad. ‘So what were you doing before you went on VIP duty?’
‘I was a cheerleader.’
The baroness sat up. ‘Really. But wasn’t that a hobby, not a job?’
‘Oh, no. I got a scholarship for cheerleading and I had to spend 25 hours a week on it.’
‘So what happened?’
Betsy looked at her plate. ‘I like flunked out.’
‘Not good enough?’
‘Sort of. But I’m really glad I’m doing this instead.’
‘You’re a real little Pollyanna, aren’t you, Betsy?’
Betsy was confused. ‘Pollyanna?’
‘Dear God, don’t they teach you anything? Pollyanna is a fictional character who was—if my memory serves me—hoping for a dolly from the bran tub.’
‘The bran tub?’
‘It was, I thought, an American custom to hide prizes in a bran tub and have a lucky dip.’
‘Oh.’
‘I see we have a generational as well as a cultural
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