“This is the most restful tint for the eyes. It’s been proven by the greatest optometrists.”
“Do you run around much with the greatest optometrists? They must be a pretty wild bunch.”
“I don’t know any optometrists personally except my own. But he is familiar with the findings of the others. He is the best in New York.”
“I want to know the best in London.”
“I know the best optometrist in London. But the very best is in New York. I’ll be glad to give you a card to him.”
“Let’s roll for this one.”
“Very well. You roll back to me.”
Thomas Hudson picked up the leather cup and felt the heavy confident weight of the big Floridita dice. He barely stirred them in order not to irritate their kindness and generosity and rolled out three kings, a ten, and a queen.
“Three kings in one. The clásico.”
“You are a bastard,” Ignacio Natera Revello said and rolled an ace, two queens, and two jacks.
“Another double frozen daiquiri absolutely without sugar and whatever Don Ignacio wishes,” Thomas Hudson said to Pedrico. Pedrico made his smile and the drink. He set down the mixer before Thomas Hudson with at least another full daiquiri in the bottom of it.
“I could do that to you all day,” Thomas Hudson said to Ignacio.
“The horrible thing is that I’m afraid you could.”
“The dice love me.”
“It’s good something does.”
Thomas Hudson felt the faint prickle go over his scalp that he had felt many times in the last month.
“How do you mean that, Ignacio?” he asked very politely.
“I mean that I certainly don’t, with you taking all my money.”
“Oh,” said Thomas Hudson. “Here’s to your good health.”
“I hope you die,” Ignacio Natera Revello said.
Thomas Hudson felt the prickle go over his scalp again. He reached his left hand against the bar where Ignacio Natera Revello could not see it and tapped softly three times with the ends of his fingers.
“That’s nice of you,” he said. “Do you want to roll for another round?”
“No,” the other said. “I’ve lost quite enough money to you for one day.”
“You haven’t lost any money. Only drinks.”
“I pay my bar bill here.”
“Ignacio,” Thomas Hudson said. “That’s the third slightly edgy thing you’ve said.”
“Well, I am edgy. If you’d had someone be as damned rude to you as your bloody ambassador was to me.”
“I still don’t want to hear about it.”
“There you are. And you call me edgy. Look, Thomas. We’re good friends. I’ve known you and your boy Tom for years. By the way how is he?”
“He’s dead.”
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“That’s all right,” Thomas Hudson said. “I’ll buy you a drink.”
“I’m so very sorry. Please know how terribly sorry I am. How was he killed?”
“I don’t know yet,” Thomas Hudson said. “I’ll let you know when I know.”
“Where was it?”
“I don’t know that. I know where he was flying but I don’t know anything else.”
“Did he get into London and see any of our friends?”
“Oh yes. He’d been in town several times and to White’s each time and he’d seen whoever was around.”
“Well, that’s a comfort in a way.”
“A what?”
“I mean it’s nice to know he saw our friends.”
“Certainly. I’m sure he had a good time. He always had an awfully good time.”
“Should we drink to him?”
“Shit, no,” Thomas Hudson said. He could feel it all coming up; everything he had not thought about; all the grief he had put away and walled out and never even thought of on the trip nor all this morning. “Let’s not.”
“I think it is the thing to do,” Ignacio Natera Revello said. “I think it is eminently proper and the thing to do. But I must buy the drink.”
“All right. We’ll drink to him.”
“What was his rank?”
“Flight lieutenant.”
“He’d probably have been a wing commander by now or at least squadron leader.”
“Let’s skip his rank.”
“Just as you wish,” Ignacio Natera Revello said. “To my dear friend and your son Tom Hudson. Dulce es moriré pro patria.”