Fast Fiction: Butter It With Words
So what was Lord Bronderley’s relationship to the narrator of this story? Richard Mallinson tells of a man compelled to use his best buttering skills
Take a slice of life,' he said, 'and butter it with words.'
He stared at me with his bulging grey eyes.
'I'm not er sure what you mean,' I stuttered. I was only 10 years old.
'Never mind,' he said, 'it's the best piece of advice I can give you if you're going to be a writer.'
(Who'd said anything about being a writer?)
Smiling, he whispered something to my mother and she patted my head.
When he left he kissed her very hard and she was quiet for hours.
'Who was that man?' I asked.
'You'll find out one day,' she said.
*
During my time as a private investigator, I was hired by a rich woman whose toyboy had ditched her and run off with a peer's daughter.
The woman wanted revenge and my job was to dig the dirt.
I interviewed the peer, a Lord Bronderly.
'Well,' he said at his club, 'did you take my advice?'
'Advice?' I said, sipping my brandy, 'what advice?'
'To take a slice of life and butter it with words,' he said, smiling.
I looked into those bulging grey eyes. 'Good god,' I said, 'you're - '
'Of course - and how's your mother?'
*
I must say that the case provided me with some real slices of life, both high and low, and the report I wrote for my client required all my buttering skills.
However, I am afraid that it must remain confidential.
*
You never told me that my father was Lord Bronderly,' I said to my mother.
'Oh I let him think so,' she replied, 'and that's why he paid your school fees.'
She seemed quite brazen about it - so why should I care?
