My big break

Thinking of tonight, I have every right to feel nervous. Only typical foolish arrogance that carries me will hinder me from being so. I am well aware that this particular evening will be on a different level from anything I have ever attended in university and maybe my life. In fact, I might as well encounter points of custom yet unfamiliar to me. We live and learn and live to learn.

I feel that I will, with my usual vigilance, negotiate any such difficulties, and in general acquit myself well. My concerns as I drift around Odesta’s domicile are of quite a different order. When Sioux talked about “well-connected” guests, I immediately assumed these to include at least a few of the leading Nordic architects and designers of the day. I fancy, then, spending a lot of my afternoon working out just what I would say should I be introduced to Bjorn Utzon, Rem Koolhaas, or perhaps even to the great Eero Saarinen. I have to rehearse over and over how I will – modestly, but with a certain dignity – outline my ambitions; and I picture to myself one or the other of them taking a fatherly interest in me, offering all kinds of advice and insisting I come to him for guidance in the future.

But meanwhile, I shall be found at Lyngby, strolling about the flower beds, growing ever more eager for the evening ahead. Wish me luck.