Old-Fashioned, or Another Story With Ghosts

Chapter 29. The lady approaches and Derry is dead

"What do you think? Honestly. Ok, not honestly. Ok, honestly...shite. Sorry. Do you like?"

Greg would never dare to break into James' bedroom. The evening was nearly there, the city was blinking with lights behind the windows. Greg has been trying to tie the bow tie using YouTube tutorial for a quarter of an hour already. 

He finally did it. But could sense something wasn't done right.

Then, James knocked and asked if he was ready. Or maybe needed help with clothes.
Greg mumbled "help me to take them off and we stay home". Looked upon himself in the mirror one more time, and let James in trying to find signs of approval in his gaze. 

James looked fantastic in his tuxedo. This type of natural fantastic when you don't think about your clothes. And it makes an other one want to kick you. Cause they, the other one, could only dream about this easiness.

"I mean...I didn't mix trousers with a shirt. I hope." Greg turned around in the middle of the room and stumbled upon his own foot. Found balance and took away the lock behind the ear. They forgot about haircut.

He forgot about haircut.

"I forgot about haircut. How long doest it take to get used to tuxedo like you?"

"A couple of times should do it for you. You look stunning." James smiled.

Gregory did look perfect, in fact. With the good part of messiness, including his hair. James loved it. The haircut would be the worst idea.

James came closer and put another lock of hair behind his ear.

"Would you mind?" James touched the tie. Gregory nodded and closed his eyes. James untied the bow and tied it back again a bit slower than needed. And checked the ring box in his pocket stepping back to look at the work. "Much better. Shall we?"

Gregory nodded again, eyes still closed.

Surprisingly, Gregory was silent on their way to the event. And looked pale when the driver opened the door for him in front of the old inviting doors. James took his hand. "You'll do amazing. Don't worry, please, my dear."

Greg wanted to say he just didn't want to embarrass James. He wanted to make him proud, however old-fashioned it sounded. But it would be embarrassing to say it. James has already put so impossibly much faith in him. Greg was scared by it. Yet, he was determined to appreciate this faith, not ditch it. 

Not with James. James was making his heart squeeze from adoration and love. 

Greg nodded smiling with his lips shaking and his eyes shining, and stepped out of the car.

The Royal Opera House was so, so breathtaking.

"What is the plan?"

"We enjoy as much as we can. Eat. Watch. Talk. Get home. Watch something else if you have energy. Or sleep."

Greg actually liked the plan. As well as having his hand on James' elbow entering the hall with welcoming drinks. No one was watching them straightforwardly. Or this part of society was trained to watch in disguise. "I meant gala, actually. But your answer sounds great."

"Oh. Well, there is welcome party. Then a concert. Then a dinner. Quite simple as it is."

"I hope there are tables for two. Or we could have really special neighbour."

James turned the head where Gregory was looking. His brows expressed a lot when he recognised the approaching party.

"James, evening to you! What a luck to have you here!" Monty acknowledged Greg's existence in the current string of the universe with the shortest nod and the shortest gaze necessary to be polite. Greg wanted to kick his bullocks. This gaze almost made him to let go James' elbow and go hang himself. 

He didn't, of course. Plus, James put the palm on his hand, with much less bandages already. "The pleasure is ours, Montgomery. I believe you hardly find the event interesting."

"Anything would do this month. I like to watch kids dancing. There will be some of your kids, right? There always are." He smoothly changed the empty glass to the full one, with the tiny strings of bubbles running from bottom to top of the golden liquid.

Greg frowned.

"You kids? Like..."

"Ah, you don't know, of course." The crocodile hasn't learnt anything. "Lord Blacke here is one of the Royal Ballet Academy benefactors. Isn't it so, James? The nice little hobby of yours. Hard to understand for commoners... the clothes don't change one's nature."

Greg chuckled. Couldn't help to. "Can't agree more, sir. James, that's sick great! I mean, amazing, shite...sorry. Do you visit exams? You can, right? You can in Vaganova Academy, I watched on YouTube..!"

James smiled. "I do. That would be my pleasure if you join me this year."

"Isn't it in spring?"

"In summer. The event is rather nice, I am sure you'd like it."

The crocodile rolled up his eyes emptying his glass too quickly. It didn't make his nose look better. And the crocodile didn't like Greg's laughing gaze. Stared back burning him on place, and smiled broadly to James again. "Ah, I almost forgot! There is somewhere here you'd certainly wish to see. Where I saw her...ah, here she is!" 

Greg followed Montgomery's gaze behind their back and frowned to the unfamiliar lady approaching towards their sweet little company. After the single look at James' face, he knew that was the thinnest lady in the perfect evening attire was definitely familiar to everybody. Except him.

When James turned to greet the lady, Greg felt someone's breathe on his cheek.  "You know you're ruining his reputation at this very moment, right?" The crocodile's poisonous whisper near his ear made Greg's heart freeze. "Shame on you. Have some respect and disappear finally, you've certainly ripped enough already."

Next moment, Montgomery was already two steps away wearing the almost pleasant face. James was holding the lady's hand in his.

James was secretly hoping Elizabeth would get a migrane or elope with some Indian prince somewhere and...would not be here this evening. Of course, she decided to come. Even though James knew she hated the event and hated ballet in general. It was sure o be Montgomery who told her about the situation. She wouldn't smile so sweetly any other possible way.

"Elizabeth. You look amazing, as usual. How is Derry?"

"Derry died a year ago. You wouldn't remember, of course."

"I'm very sorry to hear that. You see, Derry was a canary with the most beautiful voice." He told the last phrase to Greg, of course. James returned his hand back on the elbow. "Elizabeth, this is Mister Gregory Bay of Danestone, an avid artist and a good friend of mine."

"Ah, of course. Pleased." She nodded to Greg. James signed inaudibly.

"Gregory, this is lady Elizabeth Blacke."

He could feel Greg's fingers tensed on his elbow, but he never even blinked. James got...proud of him. "I used to have a parrot when I was a child. He died when I was 7. I'm sorry about Derry, Lady Blacke."

James smiled.

The concert was about to start.

***