I sit down and smooth my dress, feel the silkiness beneath my fingers. I look around. The long table is set with gold plates. Gold silverware beside them. Linen napkins and finger bowls wait for eating to commence. The family and guests are gathered around the table, speaking in a language I do not comprehend. Diplomats, guests from Sweden, speak to me in perfect English.
I gaze at the array before me.
I see a row of wine glasses, different shapes and sizes. One has a peach inside with a small gold knife and fork beside it. I wonder about that, a peach in a wine glass. How had I come to be here, wearing my only dress?
It began in England. My Danish pen-pal had come to visit. I was young, naive and swept off my feet by this tall good looking blonde. We became engaged and began the month long journey of our undoing. We arrived in France with its aroma of fresh bread, dusty hostels, cicadas and cork trees. Hitching with a man who insisted we stop at every village and sample the local wines as we headed south. Standing at roadsides, our backpacks wearing our national flags, waiting for rides. The warm south; visiting the newly uncovered caves of Lascaux. We peer back into the past. Strange paintings in the long dark underground cave. In the youth hostels we meet travelling students from far places. Australians working their way through Europe. An English policeman with the strange hobby of photographing the varieties of toilets found on his vacation. We stop at local markets and cook our meals in hostel kitchens. Pack and unpack our sleeping bags.
We pass along the glittering coast of southern France. Visit Picasso’s pottery in Vallauris. Glimpse the home of Grace Kelly and her prince. Enter Italy in a cart pulled by a donkey. In Italy our speaking was at a minimum. We were gradually parting in spirit, each finding the others attitude to life, different. We stayed together for safety, pointing our way to Denmark. In Genoa I was attacked by mosquitoes. We rode to Florence in an Alfa Romero. Traveled through the Brenner Pass into Austria. Salzberg was a blur. In Germany we slept by the freeway near Ulm, our sleeping bags covered with snail trails when we awoke. Our journey through Germany and Denmark has faded from memory. Too painful. We arrive in Denmark. My companions family welcomes me and I stay with them. But I must earn money to get home. I place an ad in a Copenhagen newspaper. I receive several offers from American and Danish families. Living with a Danish family appealed to me and I became the companion of a thirteen year old girl who was living with her grandparents while her parents were getting divorced. Now I sit at this dinner table experiencing my first taste of high living. This was the second stage of the dinner party.
It began at the sounding of the dinner gong by the butler. I descended from my room, crossed the bear rug in the atrium, and walked past the swimming pool to where caviar was being served on slivers of toast. After whetting our appetites we headed back inside, and sat chatting waiting to be served. Throughout all the courses, the peach sat in the wine glass, and I continued to wonder about its purpose, its soft pink blush ,waiting. I tackled the array of knives, forks and lobster hooks without embarrassing myself. All the wine glasses before me had now been used, except one. The peach sat waiting. Now was the time.
The waiter came around carefully pouring champagne into the last wine glass. I watched my peach begin to spin, bubbles sparkling all around. I did not move. I peer slowly to my left and right. The guest next to me notices my hesitation. “Don’t worry ” he whispers in English “just copy me.” He picks up the small gold knife and fork, cuts off a slice of peach and eats it. He then picks up the glass and sips some champagne. Oh no! Can I manage this? I pick up my knife and fork, carefully reach into the wine glass and slice off a piece of peach, and transfer it to my mouth. Success. The wine glass is still upright. I sip the champagne. Another slice, another sip. I peer around. Nobody is watching me. I grow bolder, retrieving more peach, sipping more champagne. Finally the peach is gone, the pit sits in the empty glass. I relax and smile.