It was not long after that ‘Conway’ and ‘Abigale’ were collected and whisked further along to the tea room, which turned out being something of a conservatory, an extension of the mansion that held glass walls and ceilings with a plethora of vegetation, some of which looked like it had come from rather far off and Shay could only venture to guess at the species of some of them. A botanist, he well understood, he was not. There were, to his surprise, fruit-bearing trees present.
They were seated around a wicker round table on high-backed seats with ample velvet padding and tea was brought out by servants immediately. Albert smiled warmly as he took in the scent as his China was filled. “I’d be amiss if I didn’t take pride in the satisfaction that the lemons were grown in his very conservatory, it brings out a very fresh zest to the flavour.” He noted with a chuckle. Shay smiled politely, waiting for his drink to cool. He’d never adopted the English fixation on tea; he much preferred a stiff coffee for occasions a whiskey or a stout wasn’t exactly socially acceptable.
The meal was a serving of wiener schnitzel with fresh slices of black bread and sliced and seasoned potatoes, and for Shay, it was perhaps the most excellent meal he’d had in weeks. Their hosts were quite hospitable and the conversation felt rather light and endearing, giving Shay reservations of what he’d soon be doing. It was harder to take advantage of people when you were given a glimpse into the human side. The von Goethes weren’t just rich aristocrats, they were people with disarmingly courteous manners and simple, charming tastes. It didn’t help that the German couple had treated Shay with more respect and dignity than most Englishmen ever managed to muster, making him feel somewhat bitter about returning to that life. Why was it pretending to be someone so utterly different than what he actually was made him more happy and fulfilled? For that, he had no answer.
When the hosts mentioned they were leaving for Greece in two-day’s time only cemented the fact that they were about to be burgled. It left something of a pit in Shay’s stomach. Of all the jobs he was charged with, this one did not sit well with him, even though the people sitting across from him were the embodiment of what he’d grown to resent in society. It should have brought him joy to bring them down a peg, but instead he felt a pang of self-loathing. It was going to happen, whether he wanted to do it or not. He did not believe himself a good man, he was far too gone to entertain that notion, but usually his wrath was saved for the wicked and cruel, not a pair of Jerrys that had a taste for fine living and lived in a land that likely scorned them for where they originated from.
Like me. Shay thought, the realization hitting like a rock.
The end of the luncheon couldn’t have happened fast enough, and Shay and Vera were escorted to the door from which they were introduced to the family. Waiting for Sam to pull around, Shay fumbled for a cigarette, feeling ever so uncertain of himself.
“This feels wrong. Why the fuck are we doing this?” he asked suddenly, inhaling deeply enough that the embers burnt back a quarter of an inch. “This isn’t what I wanted to become.”
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