Murder in the Dark (34 page)
Edward Fitzgerald
The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam of Naishapur
Not having to pay her army, Phryne distributed her money to anyone to whom she owed a favour. The crowd waiting to see her off in the morning was considerable. Mrs Truebody, having confided her recipe for passionfruit biscuits, beamed. Sam, Minnie and Marigold stood protectively together. The musicians gave her a fast rendition of ‘Auld Lang Syne’. Nerine squinted in her general direction. Gerald, Isabella and Sylvanus stood with Nicholas and Tarquin. Jill and Ann had shaken hands. From the herb garden came the cries of Madge the Goat Lady being conducted against her will to a source of mint. All three goats seemed to have ganged up on her this morning, and three goats cannot be resisted by any earthly force.
The big red car slid to a halt. Mr B got out and loaded the baggage into the boot. Phryne was helped into her seat by a tall and elegant Chinese man, who slid in beside her.
The car started. The Sapphic girls waved. The house began to recede into its forest. Phryne leaned back into Lin Chung’s embrace.
‘A good party?’
‘Like the curate’s egg,’ she replied. ‘In parts. The rest was stark murder and very frightening. Your cousin, by the way, is avenged. I’m amazed that you didn’t hear the splash from St Kilda.’
‘That was kind of you,’ said Lin gravely. ‘And the pretty young man?’
‘Pretty,’ said Phryne. ‘But he’s a spy, and that makes him an unreliable lover. Anyway, Lin dear, I did say I would find my own amusement.’
‘I know,’ he said. ‘I’m glad you were only amused.’
‘Fairy floss,’ said Phryne, closing her eyes. ‘Just like fairy floss. Very sweet, but melts on the tongue, and leaves the deep hunger unsatisfied.’
‘Ah,’ replied Lin Chung, pleased.
By the time the car got to the Werribee road, Phryne Fisher was fast asleep, and the New Year had to get on with it without her.
Maiden’s Prayer
3 parts gin
3 parts Cointreau
1 part orange juice
Shake with ice, decorate with orange peel.
I would like to state very strongly that I am not in favour of drugs, not even the nicotine to which I am personally addicted. But in the twenties, governments, possibly learning from the terrible effects on crime and social order of the Great Experiment of Prohibition (the Mafia, the gangsters, corrupt police, politicans and judges and corrupt society—since getting a drink meant breaking the law, it fostered contempt for the law), did not prohibit anything much.
My own grandfather was prescribed stramonthium and cannabis cigarettes for his asthma. Cocaine, morphine and laudanum (alcoholic tincture of opium) could be bought over the counter as we buy aspirin today. No one thought much of cannabis smoking or hash-eating, as it was a strange habit only indulged in by foreign people. It was not until the 1930s that drugs began to be proscribed as poisons and we entered the present phase of prohibiting all of them. Which has been as successful at suppressing drug use and as productive of crime as ever Prohibition was at removing the taste for alcohol from the American public.
I have taken liberties with Chirnside Manor, and with the formation and depth of its lake. There is no point in sending me reproachful letters about this. I read all the history, and some of it I changed. Narrative has its prerogatives and I am not going to spoil a good story or the fairies may not give me any new ones. I remind my American readers that biscuits in England and Australia are crispy flat things such as you call cookies, and the soft doughy things you call biscuits are what we call scones. And they say we speak the same language . . .
Weird as it may sound, I did not invent karez (spellings differ—it is also called karezz or karetz). It was quite in vogue in the early years of the twentieth century, when it was thought that the emission of semen weakened a man, and that any system which allowed him to pollinate himself to a standstill without spilling any seed was strengthening. This might have been the case—who can tell? If my readers want to try it, I shall be fascinated to hear . . . or possibly not. It has some things in common with what is now known as Tantric sex.
The absolutely best book I have found on cocktails is by the charming and erudite Anthony Hogg (see Bibliography). My copy was found by my redoubtable mother in an op shop but other copies must exist somewhere.
You will find medieval jokes in
The Demaundes Joyous
and a delightful and practical guide to all those animals that someone thought that Australia needed (sparrows, foxes, rabbits, thrushes, sky larks, pigeons, rats, deer, mice, etc) in Ian Temby’s book,
Wild Neighbours
. And also how to live with them.
My email address is kgreenwood@
netspace.net.au
and I would love to hear from you.
Translation of ‘The Sky Above the Roof ’
by Paul Verlaine
Above the roof the sky is
So blue, so calm,
Above the roof the tree
Cradles its branch
In that sky the bell
Softly rings
In that tree a bird
Complaining sings
My God, My God, life is there
Simple and easy
That peaceful sound
Comes from the town
Oh you there, what have you done
Endlessly weeping
Say, you there, what have you done
With your youth?
Translation
: Ben Pryor
Anonymous,
The Enquirer’s Home Book
, Ward Lock, London, 1910.
Beeton, Isabella,
Cook Book
, Ward Lock, London, 1901.
Black, Maggie,
The Medieval Cook Book
, British Museum Press, London, 1962.
Blake, William,
Poems and Prophecies
, JM Dent and Sons Ltd, London, 1975.
Burt, Alison,
The Colonial Cook Book
, Summit, Sydney, 1970. De La Mare, Walter (ed),
Come Hither
, Constable and Co, London, 1950.
Farmer, David,
The Oxford Dictionary of Saints
, Oxford University Press, Oxford, 1992.
Grahame, Kenneth,
The Wind in the Willows
, Methuen, London, 1908.
Hogg, Anthony,
Cocktails and Mixed Drinks
, Hamlyn Publishing Group Ltd, London, 1979.
Kiddle, Margaret,
Men of Yesterday
, MIP, Melbourne, 1961.
Kipling, Rudyard, ‘The Maltese Cat’ from
The Day’s Work
, Macmillan, London, 1904.
Lawler, James R,
An Anthology of French Poetry
, Oxford University Press, Oxford, 1960.
Nin, Anais,
Delta of Venus
, WH Allen and Co, London, 1978.
Temby, Ian,
Wild Neighbours
, Citrus Press, Sydney, 2005.
Wardroper, John,
The Demaundes Joyous of Wynkyn de Worde
, Gordon Fraser, London, 1986.
Various instructive maps, leaflets, booklets and visitor guides to the Mansion at Werribee Park produced by the National Trust and by Parks Vic.