Chapter XXVI
Lucy had never had a boyfriend before. Oh, she'd had lovers, of course, lots of them; not too many to remember but only because she had a phenomenal memory. Yet she'd never had an actual boyfriend, one who wanted to hold her hand and talk about inconsequentialities as they walked through the park. They'd been to church together, they'd been to the art gallery –where she'd carefully steered him away from the paintings of her without her drawers on- and now they'd been to his mum's for tea.
Lucy thought that there were lots of odd things about Omnians, not least their belief in Om. It wasn't that she doubted the existence of Om Himself, of course, as she knew for a fact that He was alive and well and living on Dunmanifestin, but He was, as far as she was aware, the only god who had ever changed His mind. There He'd been, happily having people burned alive for doubting even the least of His words and then, all of a sudden He'd said: actually, you know, I think I may have got that wrong. This was, to say the least, unusual for a god. Admittedly, His change of tack had largely been forced upon Him by the realisation that virtually none of his believers actually believed in Him and the one who truly did, didn't believe in all the persecution, bigotry, torture and smiting. It had been a humbling experience. Actually, it had been humiliating, but He'd been prepared to learn from it, in a very un-godlike way. Thus, through his True Believer, Brutha, He –or rather they- had transformed Omism from a religion of intolerance and hatred into one of peace and love and singing. Admittedly, most of the songs were still about intolerance and hatred, and smiting, but you couldn't have everything.
What she found stranger still was that for almost every other religion it was taken as read in their Good Book that their god was always right; it was, to her mind, what being a god was all about. Yet, it seemed that the Omnians had only really started believing in theirs when He'd admitted He'd been mistaken. Was that really anymore odd than a vampire having her first boyfriend at the age of 252? She wasn't sure. She wasn't sure of much these days, but she was sure it was weird not to have a name.
Sure, Sally's name was three pages long, –her own was four- her best friend was called Blister, her boyfriend was called Smite and his little sister was called Abominate. But his mum didn't have a name at all. When Smite had explained it to her it had seemed plausible –because she was beginning to understand him- but it was still daft. So, Mrs. Zarkom it would have to be. Actually, she had discovered during the evening, from Abominate –or Bom, as she preferred- that their mother's name was really Detest All Those Who Shall Not Forgive the Sinner, and decided to stick with her original plan.
Then there was the matter of what to take. She'd learned from her experience at the picnic that one was expected to take one's host something on an occasion. Naturally, back in the day, guests used to bring her succulent virgins, but she doubted that that would be appropriate. On the other hand, she knew that Omnians loved flowers; perhaps that would be nice.
"For Om's sake No!" exclaimed Bliss when she suggested it, "Dead flowers?! You'd be better off giving her a dead cat." It seemed Omnians didn't think the best way to show your love for something was to kill it.
"Why not try wine?" Bliss suggested.
"I thought Omnians didn't drink alcohol," said Lucy.
"We're learning."
So, wine it was. At least this was something she knew about, and she could now afford to buy things. Since she'd let Bliss take charge of her money she actually had some to spend, rather than having it all stolen. So, on the way to the Omnian Quarter they had stopped off at a Quirmian deli. She had bought a bottle of what had once been her favourite Fizzi, Vedova Clicotti. To Smite it had seemed like an eye-watering amount of money to spend on anything, let alone one bottle of wine, however fizzy, and said it was far too generous. But hells, what else was she going to spend money on? Also, it came with a Leonardo Sleeve that would keep it chilled for up to three hours. And so to the Egitto.
The first thing that struck Lucy was not the profusion of beautiful flowers –unlike most people- but the orderliness. She was a vampire, after all, so the beautifully clean, wonderfully tidy streets made her feel warm all over. Of course, she could have done without all the children playing in them, but even they looked neat and tidy. Gods, even the flowers, almost designed to be untidy, were well-ordered and well cared for, much like the children.
When they reached the little Zarkom house Smite knocked at the door. Was this normal? She wondered. In the old days in Quirm she would sometimes have a servant use the huge wolf's head knocker on the gates of her father's castle back in Otranto, but only on dark and stormy nights and when she had someone with her whom she was trying to scare the dying nightlights out of. She didn't think this was the same sort of thing.
The door was opened by a typically beautiful young woman. Any human would have assumed she was Smite's slightly older sister, but Lucy's eyes were sharper than that.
"Good evening, Mrs. Zarkom," she began.
"Oh, you must be Lucy," said Detest, "so lovely to meet you, please come in."
Mrs. Zarkom led the way into a small parlour where an unsurprisingly beautiful little girl was waiting for them.
"This is my daughter, Abominate," she said and the girl frowned, "but she prefers to be called Bom."
"Good evening, Bom," said Lucy."
The girl's smile could have lit up a far larger room.
"Gosh, you're pretty," she blurted out.
"Now, Bom," scolded her mother, "what have I told you about telling lies?"
Oh, dear, thought Lucy, that's rather harsh, and a very unpromising marker for the evening.
"Sorry, mum," said Bom, "gosh, you're beautiful," she corrected.
"That's better," said her mother.
Perhaps the evening wouldn't be too difficult after all.
Lucy had handed over her gift to Mrs. Zarkom, who was terribly grateful, no doubt pleased that it wasn't a dead cat. They'd each had a glass, including Bom, and agreed it was lovely. And so to the food. It was lucky for Lucy that she'd sampled some of Bliss's nibbles at the picnic because if this had been her first introduction to Omnian food then her taste-buds would have shutdown and gone off for a walking holiday near the Hub to get their heads straight.
Again it was supposedly, and scarcely believably, all vegetarian. In Genua they said that the first bite was with the eye and by the time she had had a proper look at the first course she was tempted to say she was full-up. There was a lot of red and green, but also yellow and orange, and blue and purple…there was even black and white. All the names were new to her: asomas, arokap, akrat laad…luckily she would easily remember them all, because she wanted to eat them all again. In fact she wanted to eat them all again as soon as she finished them and would have asked for more if she hadn't thought that it would have been rude. Anyway, there was no point in pining after adnasap when there was amrok to be eaten. All the food looked wonderful but the tastes were beyond description. It was also the happiest dinner she could ever remember having. Everyone seemed to be laughing all the time, though Lucy thought this might have something to do with the herbal tea they were drinking. Her acute senses discerned that it was a great deal more potent than the Fizzi she'd brought. Little wonder that the Omnians weren't particularly interested in alcohol if this was what they had with their toast in the morning.
While Mrs. Zarkom and Bom were doing the washing-up she mentioned this to Smite.
"They seem awfully jolly," she observed.
"Well, they're laughing at you," he explained, with a giggle.
"WHAT!" yelled Lucy, almost silently. She was appalled.
"Oh, not in a bad way," he said, still giggling, "it's just that with every mouthful you eat you make a lot of little mmmmah mmmmoh noises. Hadn't you noticed?"
Lucy was forced to admit that she hadn't. She had, for first time in as long as she could remember, done something without being aware that she was doing it. Vampires didn't really do that.
"No, I hadn't" she giggled. She giggled! This she was most definitely aware of. Since the beginning of time at no point, in no place and under no circumstances had no vampire ever giggled. It wasn't just unheard of, it was impossible. Well, obviously it wasn't impossible as it had just happened. QED (Quite Evidently Doable). A giggling vampire?! It was so ridiculous that it made her laugh out loud. And a fly flew into her open mouth. She spat it out. That should teach her.