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Alice
I can see how much the altercation with Craig has upset Kip, but he obviously wants to move on, so I start telling him about tomorrow’s podcast which is already set up for release, and which looks at a TV series that’s just come out based on a well-known fantasy novel.
He spreads some butter on a piece of sourdough, then holds it out to me. Smiling, I take it from him and nibble it while he butters himself another.
He talks about some of the other podcasts I’ve done, and it’s obvious from what he says that he’s really listened to them. I’m incredibly touched. It’s one thing to be aware of Wonderland; it’s another to have listened from beginning to end to more than one episode.
“Oh shit,” he says suddenly. “I forgot! I got you a birthday present.” He lifts his briefcase onto his lap, opens it, takes out a gift bag, and hands it to me, replacing his briefcase on the floor.
“Hmm,” I say, shaking it and recognizing the shape of a book, “I wonder what this is? A watch?” I place it on my wrist. “A hat?” I put it on my head.
He just grins and munches on his bread.
Smiling, I unwrap it carefully. It’s actually two books, housed in a red slipcase. The books are bound in what I think is red Morocco leather. The spines have raised bands and are lettered in gilt. One isAlice’s Adventures in Wonderland, the other isThrough the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There. Both the copies bear a dedication: ‘Margaret Evelyn Hardy from the Author, Christmas 1871.’ One of them contains a piece of paper that explains their origin.
Without lifting my head, I look up at Kip. He gives me an impish smile.
I look back at the paper. It explains that Margaret Evelyn Hardy is the daughter of the first Earl of Cranbrook, and Lewis Carroll sent copies of his books to Margaret at the earl’s request.
“These are first editions?”
He nods.
“Signed by Lewis Carroll himself?”
He nods again.
“But…” I go to brush my fingers across one of the books and stop, afraid to touch it. “These must have cost you a fortune.”
He shrugs. “You’re worth it.” He smiles.
It’s a lovely thing to say, but it doesn’t come anywhere near to explaining why he would have spent what has to be serious money on these. I don’t know a huge amount about first editions, but I’m pretty sure that these signed copies would have cost him upwards of a hundred thousand dollars.
“I don’t know what to say,” I whisper.
“Thank you is customary.”
I look up at him. “Why would you buy me something like this?”
He butters himself another chunk of sourdough. “Because you were named after Carroll’s Alice. Because you’ve done so amazingly well with Wonderland.” He puts down his knife. “And because I want to get in your knickers.” He takes a bite of the bread, his eyes gleaming.
“You didn’t need to spend money on me to do that,” I point out. “I’m a sure thing, in case you haven’t realized.”
He grins and takes a sip of champagne. Then, as I continue to stare at him, he leans on the table and looks into my eyes. “It’s your birthday,” he says simply. “I wanted to buy you something nice.”
“You’re the king of understatements, aren’t you?”
“The knight, not the king.” He laughs and leans back as Wiremu arrives to clear our plates.
Carefully, I slot the books back into the slipcase, then into the bag to protect them. “Thank you very much,” I say as graciously as I can. “It’s a wonderful present, and I’m very touched.”
“You can thank me properly later,” he says.
Wiremu picks up the last plate, and I’m sure he’s hiding a smile.
As he walks away, I scold, “Kip!”
“What?”
