Tark cast his eyes about the exclusively ruinous restaurant, searching for his wife. It was wedged: all three tables were full. It had an eighteen-month waiting list for reservations, unless of course you owned the maître d’, like Tark. But even he had to give an hour’s notice.
Mara sat in the booth by the window, the seats beside her piled high with shopping bags. Tark’s mental arithmetic was stupendous. Given the size, shape, and handle quality of the bags, he made it seven grand’s worth to her right, and five to her left. He added an extra €11,000 to what he couldn’t see under the table, and congratulated himself on his unrivalled understanding of retail therapy.
“Hello, darling.” Tark slid into the booth and passed his hand over his face. It was their secret signal for an air-kiss. Mara detested public displays of affectation. “Good day?”
“No.” Mara’s lower lip protruded, and Tark unconsciously stiffened against the backrest. A lower lip protrusion was to be treated with the same deference as the hooding of a cobra. Or the cocking of a gun.
“Why’s that, my venomous valentine?”
“It’s Easter, Tark.”
“I don’t deny it.”
“And you know I hate Easter. All that food. Sickly sweet ruination. The end of fasting. Children hunting for fun. Although hunting children for fun, now, that would be a sight to see.”
“It’s illegal, my bitter banshee.”
“Lambs. Springtime. Bloody daffodils.”
Tark sized up his wife. On the surface, she looked the same: undernourished, overdressed, and introspective. But there was something new underneath: a rage which was unusually energetic.
“What’s this really about?”
The waiter arrived, and Mara accepted a menu with bad grace. “The demise of society.” She ran a diamond fingernail down the salad selection before allowing it to come to a decisive rest. “I’ll have the 1997 Château Latour. And some black pepper, and a sheet of rice paper.” She dismissed the waiter and turned her attention back to Tark. “You know how much I adore Lent. All those miserable people, feeling guilty about failing to deny themselves the treats I abhor 52 weeks a year. And sales of my Lenten cookbook took a nosedive last week.”
Tark ordered the Kobe beef steak sandwich, and a bowl of jelly and ice cream. The dessert was one of the quirks which most endeared him to gossip columnists. One of the kitchen staff would phone it in later. “You’re forgetting how well it did. 53,000 sales in the second week of February alone. Not bad for a 40-page anthology of salt-and-pepper soups.”
“Exactly,” said Mara. “This is my time, Tark. And now it’s coming to an end, for another interminable year. Now it’s all chocolate and cutesy rabbits, and fatty meat and cream and – ugh!” Mara held her fist up to her mouth to stifle a little acid reflux. I can’t even bear to talk about it.”
“You know Valentina?” asked Tark. “Our brand manager, for the retro food line?”
“We have a retro food line?” said Mara. “When did we get that?”
Tark realigned his water glass, his butter knife and the salt cellar to resemble a percentage. He liked his table settings to be mathematically pleasing.
“2011. Remember, we used it to cash in on the recession. People were feeling nostalgic for the time when, you know, they had food and whatnot. Our savoury mince line made two million in the first quarter. But our toastable fish fingers broke records.”
“Ah, yes, I remember. And the rice pudding. That did well too.” Mara’s lunch came to the table, and the waiter artfully twisted freshly ground black pepper onto her rice paper. She looked at it with something akin to pleasure before sipping her wine. “So what about Valentina?”
Tark’s mouth watered at the smell wafting through the window from the chip shop next door, but he was content to wait. Nobody wanted a €400 steak to be delivered before at least twenty minutes had gone by. Ordinary restaurants observed the convention of delivering each diner’s food at the same time, but this establishment prided itself on its rudeness. It was worth the 330% premium.
“She’s good on selling fads, and you’re good at making them up. I’m just wondering if you two should get together after Easter and do some magic.”
Mara used the mezzaluna provided to cut a corner from her rectangle of rice paper, and popped it on her tongue. (The rice paper, not the mezzaluna.) As her melt-in-the-mouth meal began to melt away, Mara smiled.
“Bunnies,” she said.
“Interesting,” said Tark, both to his wife, and to the Kobe steak sandwich which had just arrived, delivered by a Samurai warrior, who proceeded to cut it in half with a sword and scream at Tark to enjoy his meal.
“It’s time people ate more rabbit,” said Mara. “It’s meat I can identify with. Tough, lean, stringy, and requires a lot of work to make it palatable. I think it’s time I invented the Bunny Diet.”
“With extra diet points for anyone who kills their own rabbits,” said Tark, through a €63 mouthful of beef.
“Exactly. We’ll see how cute they are then.”
“Might take a swipe at the chocolate rabbit market too,” said Tark.
Mara smiled, and cut herself an extra large sliver of rice paper, before holding her glass out to Tark in celebration.
“Let’s kill all the bunnies, darling.”
Aww poor bunnies 😂😂😂
LikeLiked by 2 people
I look forward to the Bernie Rose Violet Society for the Protection of Cruelty to Bunnies. I’d like to be the first to donate (a vowel, for your acronym).
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hehe
Off to Google ‘Lenten cookbook’
LikeLiked by 1 person
Dude. That’s like the most depressing internet search, like, ever.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Christ, you’re right: http://www.amazon.com/A-Lenten-Cookbook-Orthodox-Christians/dp/0913026816
I was only looking for a … laugh.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s hilarious, that you went looking for a laugh, and you got that. I’m no expert, but I reckon that’s a job well done.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You two are laughing, but it’s a big thing around here, with everyone swearing on the Lent diet’s health benefits. You see, while Catholics only forego a single pleasure, devout Greek Orthodox Christians forego all meat, fish, dairy products and even oil.
They do the same for 40 days in the summer, and another 40 just before Christmas.
Every year, there are TV shows where dieticians and nutritionists tell people how good this is for you.
Remember how I told I’ve stopped watching Greek TV…?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yeah, Nick. How’s that going? Or is your diet making you too weak even to reach the remote control in order to change the channel? 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is our second year with no antenna. Thank God for the Internet!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes. I can’t get enough of those cat-eating-bunnies videos…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Mara? That you?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Mwah ha haaaaaa….
LikeLiked by 1 person
Heck, I’m off to google bunny cookbook.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I know a great movie you can start with.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Does it involve Glenn Close?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh yes. Best cooking scene ever.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ah Mara – so deluded! The only way to eat rice paper is when it’s ‘enrobing’ a teaspoon of sherbet (remember flying saucers – YUM!) 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
Mara’s lawyer will be suing you for defamation later this evening, Jan. You’re a brave woman.
LikeLike
The Bunny Diet. Ha ha. That should go over big with the in crowd. 🙂 Their kids will all become vegetarians. By the way, do Tark and Mara have kids? No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh, it’s common knowledge, Diana. Tark and Mara do not have children. They rented one once, for a photo shoot, but it didn’t work out. Tark is the only short person allowed in the penthouse.
LikeLiked by 1 person
There are times, such as now, when I feel like I’ve had such a powerful acid trip I can’t remember taking the acid. I’ll come back to this blog post tomorrow and find it’s actually an analysis of Kindle Unlimited ebook returns for February 2016…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Omigod. That’s [sniff] the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. I’d like to thank my family, and the lemon drizzle cake I wasn’t allowed to eat until I’d finished the post.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The trip continues!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love a bit of free travel myself. 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
Once again, you’ve gone and done wonderful things to an otherwise horrendous revue of religious ideologues perpetuating sales of chocolate idols of animals having nothing to do with anything. Well done (not the steak or rabbit, though – that won’t do at all)! May your character find more times of lack and wont in the near future.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Todd. I’m sure there’s ample material to come.
LikeLiked by 1 person
An enjoyable read… I’m sure my Rotties will like the Bunny Diet 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’d say it’s made for them. And Mara would surely approve…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Right up my street. The table rearrangement to include the percentage sign is bliss. We have form in our family; there is a line in my forthcoming book (in a letter from my mother) ‘It has been such a week – making Xmas puddings, killing bunnies, …’ My father once made it into the Times (or maybe Telegraph). He had a rabbit vendetta going and would get up at dawn to have a crack at the blighters digging up his lawn. One Easter he left a downstairs window slightly open with the rifle ready… and it was stolen – red faces at home; gleeful copy for bored journalists.
LikeLiked by 1 person
At last, some support. Tark and Mara thank you profusely, Hilary. The way some people go on around here, you’d swear killing bunnies at Easter wasn’t the first thing everybody thought of. Your parents sound a hoot. Gleeful copy all round!
LikeLiked by 1 person
At last. I’ve been suffering with extreme withdrawal due to the distinct lack of Tark and Mara on your blog in recent months. Its good to know they are still as dastardly as ever. Please pass on to them that I am their no1 fan. 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
They’ll be even more insufferable, but okay Ali, I’ll do it, seeing as it’s yourself. It’ll be worth it if Tark cracks a smile.
LikeLike
I eat bunnies for breakfast! No remorse, no penance! I will only eat things that are cute.
Next Lent, I think I might only eat things that are endangered.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Now that’s what I call fightin’ talk. You’re my hero. And Tark & Mara want you to appear on the cover of their next manifesto. Call me about rates.
LikeLiked by 1 person
What a fabulous piece of writing. You must join myself and Missus Dept. of Spec. in our latest endeavour. We read the same blog – Blathering about nothing – where the fine scribe has done a couple of pieces in the style of Dorothy Parker. In our foolishness, Missus and I asked for homework – questions to be posed to which we would respond in they style of Miss DP. We’re at the musing stage. You should join in 🙂 Or maybe not….you might outwrite us
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re safe, Birdie…. for now. The list of things I haven’t been writing is now getting so long I’m contemplating having to actually write the list. Any new ventures, including the next adventure for Tark and Mara, are on hold until I can deal with the meat and two veg of novel writing. Sadly it’s been all cauliflower so far.
LikeLiked by 1 person