“Now look what you’ve done! You’ve made me forget my guests. There — you take that tray. Those are the ones with vermouth — I don’t want to get them mixed up.”
It was just before sunset that George found his way up to the roof. For a number of excellent reasons he had a slight headache and felt like escaping front the noise and confusion downstairs. Jean, who was a much better dancer than he was, still seemed to be enjoying herself hugely and refused to leave. This annoyed George, who was beginning to feel alcoholically amorous, and he decided to have a quiet sulk beneath the stars.
One reached the roof by taking the escalator to the first floor and then climbing the spiral stairway round the intake of the air-conditioning plant. This led, through a hatchway, out on to the wide, flat roof. Rupert’s flyer was parked at one end; the centre area was a garden — already showing signs of running wild — and the rest was simply an observation platform with a few deck chairs placed on it. George flopped into one of these and regarded his surroundings with an imperial eye. He felt very much monarch of all he surveyed.
It was, to put it mildly, quite a view. Rupert’s house had been built on the edge of a great basin, which sloped downwards towards the east into swamplands and lakes five kilometres away. Westwards the land was flat and the jungle came almost to Rupert’s back-door. But beyond the jungle, at a distance that must have been at least fifty kilometres, a line of mountains ran like a great wall out of sight to north and south.
Their summits were streaked with snow, and the clouds above them were turning to fire as the sun descended on the last few minutes of its daily journey. As he looked at those remote ramparts, George felt awed into a sudden sobriety. The stars that sprang out in such indecent haste the moment the sun had set were completely strange to him. He looked for the Southern Cross, but without success. Though he knew very little of astronomy, and could recognize only a few constellations, the absence of familiar friends was disturbing. So were the noises drifting in from the jungle, uncomfortably close at band. Enough of this fresh air, thought George. I’ll go back to the party before a vampire bat, or something equally pleasant, comes flying up to investigate.
He was just starting to walk back when another guest emerged from the hatchway. It was now so dark that George could not see who it was, so he called out,
“Hello, there. Have you had enough of it too?” His invisible companion laughed.
“Rupert’s starting to show some of his movies. I’ve seen them all before.”
“Have a cigarette,” said George.
“Thanks.”