Серия про лондонского констебля Питера Гранта — мое идеальное успокоительное чтение. Бен Ааронович очень любит Лондон и британскую историю, а шутит и иронизирует по-доброму и ровно столько, чтобы захотелось растаскивать текст на цитаты, а не кривиться в усталости, как от навязчивого сарказма Зэди Смит. Закончила сегодня последнюю на нынешний момент книгу в серии, Lies Sleeping, и нахожусь в радостном состоянии лингвистического восторга.

When dealing with the excessively rich and privileged, you’ve got your two basic approaches. One is to go in hard and deliberately working class. A regional accent is always a plus in this. Seawoll has been known to deploy a Mancunian dialect so impenetrable that members of Oasis would have needed subtitles, and graduate entries with double firsts from Oxford practise a credible Estuary in the mirror and drop their glottals with gay abandon when necessary.

That approach only works if the subject suffers from residual middle-class guilt – unfortunately the properly posh, the nouveau riche and senior legal professionals are rarely prey to such weaknesses. For them you have to go in obliquely and with maximum Downton Abbey.

Fortunately for us we have just the man.

***
Oxley had something called a Brewdog Vagabond Pale Ale, which came in a bottle and which he claimed never to have tasted before.

‘I’m trying new things,’ he said.

Including a new suit in khaki chambray that had either been tailored deliberately baggy or had once belonged to someone else. Isis was similarly smartly turned out in a burgundy floor-length dress and matching jacket with cream buttons. I did mention that the opera had got a lot more informal since they last attended, which didn’t seem to bother Isis at all.

‘Well, I dress to please myself,’ said Isis, and clinked glasses with Beverley.

‘And I dress to please my love,’ said Oxley.

They all looked at me.

‘I dress to project an aura of confident authority,’ I said.

***
Most archaeology in London these days is rescue archaeology – projects designed to preserve as much as possible from the relentless cash-driven redevelopment. It’s not a new problem. Ask a medievalist about Victorian cellars or an Iron Age specialist about medieval ploughing – but take snacks, because you’re going to be there for a while.