When Worlds Collide

Four

Hugh Maloney stood proud at his solid oak front door, one hand outstretched towards my father who took it instantly and clasped it in a warm, firm handshake. My father grinned towards him, using his other hand to envelope both their hands and grip them tightly. They laughed, as men often did, about something I didn't care to listen to. I used the moment to glance around at the house, a two story detached home, far more expansive than our own. Its brick painted a chalky white, it stood out splendidly among the other homes along the lane, their own brick in far less interesting colours of dull browns, greys and reds. 

"I must thank you for your kind invitation to dinner Hugh," My father greeted, letting him go so that Hugh, William Maloney's father, could greet my mother. Brought up as nothing short of a lady, my mother dipped her hand towards Hugh so that he may place a kiss upon the back of her hand. 

"Leona you are looking simply ravishing tonight," He remarked. "I must say how beautiful your daughter looks tonight Leona, Edward. She is a credit to you both and I'm sure my son cannot wait to speak to you properly. Come in, come in, before you start to feel the cold."

"I'm already cold," I grumbled beneath my breath, but placed a small, chaste, smile on my lips as my mother ushered me to enter the house first. I stepped lightly through the threshold and removed my shawl, placing it on a coat rack that was stood just by the front door. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the house was warm and knew they must have had the fire going for some time before we arrived. 

I clasped my hands together as we were ushered through the short hallway towards a living room. I took my time through the hallway, using the family portraits hanging on their magnolia cream walls as a distraction. In each portrait the family looked happy, one from when William was a baby, one as a young adolescent and one that looked rather recent, in which his father's greying hair and mother's laugh lines were far more prominent. I guessed the artist paid a fair attention to detail. 

"Josephina," came a hissed call to the left of me. Startled, I turned to find my mother glaring daggers at me from the entrance to the living room. I bowed my head, embarrassed to have been caught staring and daydreaming, quickly joining her in the living room where I was greeted by William, his mother and his father stood waiting for me. I was glad for the makeup coating my face, otherwise I was sure that they would all be able to see the blood rushing to my cheeks and turning them a vibrant shade of scarlet. 

I nodded my head towards William, dropping my knees in a slight curtsey, "How do you do," I greeted quietly. 

"I'm very well thankyou Josephina, and yourself?" 

"Oh I'm doing well thankyou." 

Pleasantries over, Hugh offered my family and I a glass of red wine which I readily accepted. I was not much of a drinker, I did not want to be caught embarrassing myself on the cobbled streets of the village square like I had seen some men early on a Sunday morning, but I was going to need some support to get through this evening and if that was in the form of liquidified fermented grapes, then so be it. I took a small sip, the cherry flavour bursting over my tongue. Not quite my favourite, I was more of a white wine drinker, preferring the sweetness of a white to the zesty, tartness of a red. Still, it was considered rude not to accept a drink from the host and I would have graciously accepted tequila had it been offered. 

"So Josephina, tell me, what have you been doing to pass your time?" William's mother, Ava, asked politely, as she took a seat on her impeccably clean, beautiful, grey sofa. Sitting down, she invited us all to take a seat and I did so gratefully, sitting beside her. My mother chose to sit herself in the arm chair and the men stood, my father resting his arm on a short bookcase beside the fire.