"David Garnett - Still Life" - читать интересную книгу автора (Garnett David)

other two looked as old as she knew they were. They both seemed to be
about forty.
Corinne tried to dismiss the idea. Lots of people appeared younger than
their age, and Corinne believed that she was a good example. She'd looked
after herself, was careful what she ate, took plenty of exercise. In a
favorable light, she reckoned she could pass for thirty. But the older people
became, the harder it was to disguise the years тАФ and Graham certainly
didn't look fifty-four.
The meal was excellent. There was certainly no food shortage here, and
quite exotic fare at that тАФ fresh salmon, followed by venison. Corinne
hadn't eaten such rich food in years. And after the different wines and
liquors, she was feeling light-headed when they went into the study and
sat down in the plush leather armchairs in front of the blazing log fire.
Lady Carole excused herself after a few minutes, and Corinne was alone
with Sir Graham. She smiled as the flames warmed her face. After a few
drinks, her earlier thoughts about the man's age seemed ridiculous.
"You kept looking at me in an odd way before, Corinne," he said. "What
were you thinking about? The last time we met?"
"At the National Gallery?"
He shook his head, smiling softly. "You know what I mean." He stood up
and took a cigar from the box on top of a carved bureau in the corner,
then lit it as he sat down again. There was silence for a while as they
watched the logs burn. "The night you finished my portrait," he added.
"Twelve years ago," Corinne reminded him.
"Was it that long?" Sir Graham stared at the paneled wall beyond her.
"I suppose it must be." He hesitated, as though unsure of his words. "Do
you think I've altered?"
"Altered?"
"Since you painted me?"
"What makes you ask that?" she said suspiciously. It was almost as if he
could read her mind. Had he stood in front of his portrait so that she
could see he was no different? It couldn't be, that was ridiculous.
The prime minister smiled instead of replying. "Would you like another
drink?"
Corinne shook her head.
"It's true, you know," Sir Graham continued. "I've hardly changed. Two
years after you painted me, I had тАФ er тАФ had an operation, a certain
treatment to stop me from aging." He was watching Corinne, waiting to
observe some reaction.
"Cosmetic surgery, you mean?"
"No. Longevity. Perhaps even immortality."
Corinne looked away from him and stared into the fire. She felt
confused and wished she hadn't had so much to drink, but she didn't
doubt that Sir Graham was telling the truth. "Why are you telling me
this?" she asked, after a few seconds.
"I wanted you to know that it works, that there's nothing to fear or
worry about."
She glanced at him, not understanding what he meant.
"I'm offering you the chance of having the same treatment, Corinne.
Would you like to join the elite, be one of us, and become immortal?"