Neptune would be expecting his sardines and, secretly, Harry preferred to go it alone.
After seeing her off in a taxi, he walked unhurriedly round to Beak Street, judging Slade would need to shower and change before joining his guests. La Chasse-Maree turned out to be one of Soho's classier and least garishly lit establishments, a French fish restaurant with blue-washed walls and everything from lampshades to ashtrays cunningly disguised as sea-shells. The Slade party were immediately identifiable as the glamorously dressed dozen monopolizing the bar to whom champagne was being liberally dispensed. Harry needed to do no more than nod and smile at a waiter to find himself included in the hospitality.
"One of his best, wouldn't you say?" enquired a tall long-nosed brunette between heavy-lidded draws on a cigarette. "I mean, he was really there tonight."
"Actually, it was the first time I'd seen him on stage. It was quite a revelation."
"Would be. I'm Tina, by the way."
"Hi. I'm Harry."
"How'd you come to know Adam, Harry?"
"It's complicated. But not as complicated as higher dimensions. I'm not sure I understand what they're all about."
"Explain higher dimensions to Harry, Malcolm," she said, pulling a loud young man away from the nearest conversation.
"You're not into them?" asked Malcolm, flicking his hair out of his eyes.
"Are you?"
"Not like Adam. But I get the picture."
"And what is the picture?"
"Well, it's an extra way of seeing, isn't it? Like parts of the spectrum ordinary humans can't detect. Like if we only existed in two dimensions, say length and breadth, we couldn't see height, could we? And we wouldn't understand what had happened if something was picked up and put down again rather than slid forwards or sideways. It would disappear and reappear somewhere else like .. . like magic."
"Like the hoop on the table-leg?"
"Yeh. And the wheels. Adam says it's easy to thread all those spokes together when you know how. Like shuffling cards. It's just .. . what he does."
"Course," put in a burly red-faced man who had overheard them, 'it makes no difference whether Malcolm's in two dimensions or three or bloody seventeen .. ." He slapped Malcolm hard on the head with the theatre programme. "Things still tend to fall on him from a great height." The walls of the restaurant seemed to rock with his guffaws. Then, with merciful abruptness, he stopped laughing.
The reason was the arrival amongst them of Adam Slade, magician and hyper-dimensionalist. Strolling through the door in black suit and open-necked red shirt without any apparent effort to stage a grand entrance, he nevertheless drew people's gaze instantaneously. Then the cheers and welcomes rang out. The crush at the bar parted before him like the Red Sea before the tribes of Israel. And Harry found himself, to his great surprise, standing at the elbow of a human phenomenon.
"Brilliant show, Adam," said Tina as she moved in for a kiss.
"Thanks, darling." Slade gulped down some iced mineral water.
"Shattered?"
"Yeh. But I'll soon bounce back with my friends here to revive me." He noticed Harry for the first time and frowned slightly. "Do I know you?"
That's Harry," said Tina. "Bit of a sceptic, I reckon."
"The name's Barnett," said Harry, smiling defiantly and offering his hand, which Slade studiously ignored.
"Never heard of you."
"You surprise me. I mean, if you have all these additional dimensions of perception, isn't it obvious who I am? Can't you call on one of them to work it out?" Harry had not planned to antagonize the man, but, desperate to hold his attention, he seemed to have lapsed into doing precisely that.
"Spare me the effort."
"All right. I'm David Venning's father."
"I don't think so."
"It's true. Why else would his mother have told me about your dinner date with him last month?"
"I don't know. And I don't much want to know."
"But I want to know. About how he was that night. About what was on his mind."
"I came here to
After seeing her off in a taxi, he walked unhurriedly round to Beak Street, judging Slade would need to shower and change before joining his guests. La Chasse-Maree turned out to be one of Soho's classier and least garishly lit establishments, a French fish restaurant with blue-washed walls and everything from lampshades to ashtrays cunningly disguised as sea-shells. The Slade party were immediately identifiable as the glamorously dressed dozen monopolizing the bar to whom champagne was being liberally dispensed. Harry needed to do no more than nod and smile at a waiter to find himself included in the hospitality.
"One of his best, wouldn't you say?" enquired a tall long-nosed brunette between heavy-lidded draws on a cigarette. "I mean, he was really there tonight."
"Actually, it was the first time I'd seen him on stage. It was quite a revelation."
"Would be. I'm Tina, by the way."
"Hi. I'm Harry."
"How'd you come to know Adam, Harry?"
"It's complicated. But not as complicated as higher dimensions. I'm not sure I understand what they're all about."
"Explain higher dimensions to Harry, Malcolm," she said, pulling a loud young man away from the nearest conversation.
"You're not into them?" asked Malcolm, flicking his hair out of his eyes.
"Are you?"
"Not like Adam. But I get the picture."
"And what is the picture?"
"Well, it's an extra way of seeing, isn't it? Like parts of the spectrum ordinary humans can't detect. Like if we only existed in two dimensions, say length and breadth, we couldn't see height, could we? And we wouldn't understand what had happened if something was picked up and put down again rather than slid forwards or sideways. It would disappear and reappear somewhere else like .. . like magic."
"Like the hoop on the table-leg?"
"Yeh. And the wheels. Adam says it's easy to thread all those spokes together when you know how. Like shuffling cards. It's just .. . what he does."
"Course," put in a burly red-faced man who had overheard them, 'it makes no difference whether Malcolm's in two dimensions or three or bloody seventeen .. ." He slapped Malcolm hard on the head with the theatre programme. "Things still tend to fall on him from a great height." The walls of the restaurant seemed to rock with his guffaws. Then, with merciful abruptness, he stopped laughing.
The reason was the arrival amongst them of Adam Slade, magician and hyper-dimensionalist. Strolling through the door in black suit and open-necked red shirt without any apparent effort to stage a grand entrance, he nevertheless drew people's gaze instantaneously. Then the cheers and welcomes rang out. The crush at the bar parted before him like the Red Sea before the tribes of Israel. And Harry found himself, to his great surprise, standing at the elbow of a human phenomenon.
"Brilliant show, Adam," said Tina as she moved in for a kiss.
"Thanks, darling." Slade gulped down some iced mineral water.
"Shattered?"
"Yeh. But I'll soon bounce back with my friends here to revive me." He noticed Harry for the first time and frowned slightly. "Do I know you?"
That's Harry," said Tina. "Bit of a sceptic, I reckon."
"The name's Barnett," said Harry, smiling defiantly and offering his hand, which Slade studiously ignored.
"Never heard of you."
"You surprise me. I mean, if you have all these additional dimensions of perception, isn't it obvious who I am? Can't you call on one of them to work it out?" Harry had not planned to antagonize the man, but, desperate to hold his attention, he seemed to have lapsed into doing precisely that.
"Spare me the effort."
"All right. I'm David Venning's father."
"I don't think so."
"It's true. Why else would his mother have told me about your dinner date with him last month?"
"I don't know. And I don't much want to know."
"But I want to know. About how he was that night. About what was on his mind."
"I came here to
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