Part 29 (2/2)
”No, thanks, just coffee, please.”
”Could we just have coffee, please,” I said to the waiter. He stuck his tongue in the corner of his mouth, shrugged and nodded as if deliberating on a difficult arithmetical problem. ”And is there anywhere less crowded and noisy for us to have it?” I continued.
”Oh, no, no, no! I am afraid not. Le Bon Appet.i.t ees always ver' busy at zer weekend.”
This was just impossible. There should have been soft music, subdued lighting, the outstanding view down the dale, a wonderful calm. I could not possibly ask her here in this place. I wanted this evening to be memorable.
”Shall we skip the coffee?” suggested Christine helpfully. ”We could go back to my house. I make an excellent cup and I know Mum and Dad would love to see you again. They hoped you might have time to pop in.”
”No coffee, then, thank you,” I told the waiter. ”Just the bill, please.”
' Certainement,” murmured the waiter and strode off.
Turning back to Christine, I said in a resigned voice, ”Yes, let's go back to your house for coffee.” I had not planned for the evening to end like this. How could I propose with Christine's parents making polite conversation and smiling at me over the rims of their coffee cups? ”I'll just go and rustle up the taxi. I ordered it for eleven, but we don't want to be hanging about here for the next hour. Would you excuse me? I won't be long.”
Having finally persuaded the head waiter to ring for the taxi, I headed for the only cool and quiet place in the building: the gents. I had to get my thoughts straight and think through another plan of attack. In the deserted cloakroom, I splashed cold water over my face and stared into the mirror. Perhaps Christine's parents would leave us to ourselves and then I could pop the question. I had rehea.r.s.ed what I would say so many times I knew it backwards. Or perhaps we could sit outside in the warm air, I could take her in my arms and propose beneath the moon. I looked in the mirror, smiled and said out loud: ”I think you know how I feel about you. Over the year I've grown closer and closer to you. You're always in my thoughts, you're forever in my dreams. I love you, I've always loved you, I've loved you since I first saw you.” I paused for effect. ”I just cannot live without you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Darling, will you marry me?”
There was a loud flus.h.i.+ng noise, a cubicle door opened and the man with a clarety complexion and heavy jowls from the next table emerged with a bemused expression. He joined me at the washbasin where he proceeded to wash his hands vigorously.
”I'm afraid I can't,” he said bluntly.
”I'm sorry?”
”Marry you. I'm married already. I've been married for fotty-five years. But thank you for asking I shall always treasure the memory.” Then, chuckling to himself, he left me to my thoughts.
The evening had been a total disaster. What else could possibly happen next? I had not long to wait. At the bar, having settled the bill, I became aware of a familiar voice.
”Could you order me a taxi, please, to collect us in about thirty minutes?” It was Dr. Gore.
”Dr. Gore!” I exclaimed.
The Chief Education Officer smiled his hungry vampire smile and came down the bar to join me. ”h.e.l.lo, Gervase, I didn't see you there. I take it you too have been celebrating the end of term? Are you here with your colleagues?”
”No, no, just with a friend,” I replied.
”Well, you must come and join us for a coffee.”
”That's very kind, but I'm expecting a taxi'
”What time?” he interrupted.
”Well, it was for eleven actually, but I've just asked the waiter to telephone and see if it could collect us earlier.”
”I'm sure that you have time for a cup of coffee. In any case, if your taxi does arrive it can wait for ten minutes or so.” He smiled a thin-lipped, self-satisfied smile, reminding me of Count Dracula before he sinks his fangs into a helpless victim. ”Now, I won't take no for an answer. You run along and fetch your friend. We're through the archway, near the window, in a little alcove.”
”And where have you been?” Christine demanded in a mock angry voice when I arrived back at the table. ”I've been sitting here for ages.”
”I'm really sorry. I met Dr. Gore and just couldn't get away. He's asked us to join him for coffee and I couldn't get out of it. He insisted. Do you mind awfully?”
”Of course not.”
I led Christine through the crowd still thronging the bar area, under the archway and headed in the direction of the window where Dr. Gore had said he was sitting. This was where Christine and I should have been, I thought crossly. There was soft background music, subdued lights, tables for two in secluded alcoves. I could have proposed here, I thought to myself.
”He's over there,” said Christine taking my arm.
I stopped in my tracks as if turned to stone when I saw who was in animated conversation with the CEO. At a pretty table, bathed in pink light from a nearby lamp, sat a streamlined figure in exquisite acid-green silk and bedecked in an a.s.sortment of heavy gold jewellery. It was Mrs. Savage.
”I do not believe it,” I heard myself whisper. ”I do not believe it.”
”What is it?” asked Christine. ”You look as if you've seen a ghost.”
”Something worse,” I murmured.
Dr. Gore stood as we reached the table. ”Ah, there you are,” he said. ”Good, good. Miss Bentley, how very nice to see you. Gervase never mentioned who his friend was. Bit of a dark horse is our English inspector. Come, come, do take a seat. I've ordered some more coffee.”
Mrs. Savage placed the china cup she was holding carefully between finger and thumb on the saucer and our eyes met. She arched an eyebrow and gave me a twisted little smile. We sat down on chairs pulled up by Dr. Gore. ”You know Brenda, of course, Gervase,” continued Dr. Gore jovially. He turned to Christine and gave her the thin-lipped grin. ”This is my personal a.s.sistant, Brenda Savage,” he explained. ”You keep me in order, don't you, Brenda?” She gave a self-satisfied little smirk before extending a green-nailed hand like some member of royalty. ”Delighted to meet you,” she said softly.
”And this is Christine Bentley,” Dr. Gore told her. ”One of our most distinguished and hard-working head teachers ”h.e.l.lo,” said Christine warmly. ”I think I saw you with Dr. Gore when he came to talk at the Headteachers' Conference.”
”That's right,” said Mrs. Savage. ”I spend a lot of time with Dr. Gore.” She gave me what could only be termed a challenging look.
Dr. Gore and Mrs. Savage, I thought to myself. Well, well. The evening was collapsing into a complete shambles but what a story I would have to tell David and Sidney.
”Well, isn't this nice,” chortled the CEO leaning back in his chair.
The next ten minutes of trivial conversation seemed an eternity. Mrs. Savage never missed an opportunity to remind me how hard Dr. Gore worked and how much he relied on her. I could have yelped for joy when I saw the little French waiter heading in our direction.
”Meester and Meesis Pinn, your taxi is 'ere.”
I thanked Dr. Gore for the coffee, shook his hand, wished him a pleasant summer holiday, smiled weakly at Mrs. Savage and turned to Christine, ”Shall we go then?”
Christine slid her hand into mine and smiled. ”If you're ready,” she replied.
I was lost for words, just as I had been the very first time I had seen her. She had the deepest blue eyes and the fairest complexion I had ever seen, the softest ma.s.s of golden hair, the sweetest mouth. She was strikingly beautiful. It had been a coup defoudre an instantaneous falling in love and I had to tell her. ”Gervase,” she repeated, 'are you ready?”
”Yes,” I murmured. ”I'm ready.”
”That was an unexpected meeting, wasn't it?” Christine said as we headed for the door. ”Fancy coming across Dr. Gore and Mrs. Savage, together. Do you think there's something going on between them? He's a widower, isn't he?”
”Christine'
”Of course, it might be quite innocent -just be a sort of thank-you meal, you know'
”Christine! I am really totally uninterested in Dr. Gore and Mrs. Savage at the moment. There really is something I have to ask you. It won't wait. Could we just sit down for a moment?” We found an empty table in a smoky part of the room near the bar. I took a deep breath and tried to remember the words I had endlessly rehea.r.s.ed. My mind went blank and my throat dry. ”I know this is not the best place to say this, but I really have to say it now. You don't have to answer me right away. You might want to think about it. It's just that I think you are the most beautiful, wonderful, amazing person I've ever met and, well, I love you. Yes, I do, I love you. I can't stop thinking about you. It's making me ill. I want you to be my wife.”
”Oh.”
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