“I would ask Magnus, but I gather it’s more your area than his.”
“Fire away.” I smile up at him politely, expecting some weddingy question along the lines of ‘How many bridesmaids will there be?’ or ‘What flowers are you having?’ or even, ‘Were you surprised when Magnus proposed?’
“What do you think of McDowell’s new book on the Stoics?” His eyes are fixed beadily on mine. “How does it compare to Whittaker? “
For a moment I’m too poleaxed to react. What? What do I think of what ?
“Ah yes!” Wanda is nodding vigorously. “Poppy is somewhat of an expert on Greek philosophy, Paul. She foxed us all at Scrabble with the word aporia, didn’t you?”
Somehow I manage to keep smiling.
Aporia.
That was one of the words Sam texted me. I’d had a few glasses of wine and was feeling pretty confident by then. I have a hazy memory of myself laying down the tiles and saying that Greek philosophy was one of my great interests.
Why? Why, why, why? If I could go back in time, that’s the moment I’d go up to myself and say, “Poppy! Enough!”
“That’s right!” I attempt an easy smile. “Aporia! Anyway, I wonder where the vicar is—”
“We were reading the TLS this morning”—Antony ignores my attempt to divert the conversation—“and there was a review of this new McDowell book and we thought, now, Poppy will know about this subject.” He looks expectantly at me. “Is McDowell correct about fourth-century virtues?”
I give an internal whimper. Why the hell did I pretend I knew about Greek philosophy? What was I thinking ?
“I haven’t quite got to the McDowell book yet.” I clear my throat. “Although obviously it’s on my reading list.”
“I believe Stoicism has often been misunderstood as a philosophy, isn’t that right, Poppy?”
“Absolutely.” I nod, trying to look as knowledgeable as possible. “It’s completely misunderstood. Very much so.”
“The Stoics weren’t emotionless, as I understand it.” He gestures with his hands as though lecturing to three hundred people. “They simply valued the virtue of fortitude. Apparently they displayed such impassiveness to hostility that their aggressors wondered if they were made of stone.”
“Extraordinary!” says Paul with a laugh.
“That’s correct, isn’t it, Poppy?” Antony turns to me. “When the Gauls attacked Rome, the old senators sat in the forum, calmly waiting. The attackers were so taken aback by their dispassionate attitude, they thought they must be statues. One Gaul even tugged the beard of a senator, to check.”
“Quite right.” I nod confidently. “That’s exactly it.”
As long as Antony just keeps talking and I keep nodding, then I’ll be OK.
“Fascinating! And what happened next?” Paul turns expectantly to me.
I glance at Antony for the answer—but he’s waiting for me too. And so is Wanda.
Three eminent professors. All waiting for me to tell them about Greek philosophy.
“Well!” I pause thoughtfully, as though wondering where to begin. “Well, now. It was … interesting. In many, many ways. For philosophy. And for Greece. And for history. And humanity. One could, in fact, say that this was the most significant moment in Greek … ness.” I come to a finish, hoping no one will realize I haven’t actually answered the question.
There’s a puzzled pause.
“But what happened ?” says Wanda, a little impatiently.
“Oh, the senators were massacred, of course,” says Antony with a shrug. “But what I wanted to ask you, Poppy, was—”
’That’s a lovely painting!” I cry desperately, pointing to a picture hanging on a pillar. “Look over there!”
“Ah, now, that is an interesting piece.” He wanders over to have a look.
The great thing about Antony is, he’s so curious about everything, he’s quite easily distracted.
“I need to check something on my calendar,” I say hastily. “I’ll just … ”
My legs are shaking slightly as I escape to a nearby pew. This is a disaster. Now I’ll now have to pretend to be a Greek philosophy expert for the rest of my life. Every Christmas and family gathering, I’ll have to have a view on Greek philosophy. Not to mention be able to recite Robert Burns’s poetry.
I should never, ever have cheated. This is karma. This is my punishment.
Anyway, too late. I did.
I’m going to have to start taking notes. I take out my phone, open a new email, and start typing notes to myself.
