THE FLAPPER'S FAN

Chapter 6 - Asking a Lot of Questions

When I came out of the bathroom, I realised I had no idea what to wear. At home, I would put on my gym pants and an oversized sweatshirt, but I supposed I would have to get completely dressed again. It was such a silly thing. The other housedress in my suitcase was dreary and the evening gowns hanging in the wardrobe were not suitable for an evening at home. I glanced around in frustration and spied hanging on the back of the door an amazing oriental robe that must have once belonged to Nick's sister. Over a slip, with my scarf in my hair, surely I would be circumspect enough for a private dinner at home?

Nick was uncorking a bottle of red wine when I entered the dining room. He had set one end of the long table and watched me walk toward my seat in my bare feet. Perhaps he would put my strange attire down to my being Australian, I thought with amusement. He pulled out my chair and I took a seat, tucking the robe around me and tightening the neckline. Nevertheless, I suddenly felt very bohemian and just a little bit naughty, which in turn made me chuckle. I wore a lot less than this walking around in the summer, and less again on the beach, so it really was quite silly to feel so naked!

He disappeared into the kitchen and came out a moment later with two plates of food.

"Nothing fancy, I'm afraid," he said, placing mine in front of me. "Omelettes are the limit of my culinary abilities."

It looked, and smelled, delicious and I was flattered he had gone to such trouble.

"I thought Mrs Brewer was making tea?" I asked. We had always called the evening meal "tea" at home, although not everyone used that term. He seemed to understand my meaning however.

"She looked absolutely shattered, so I sent her home. You all did a marvellous job today, I was more than a little impressed."

"Everyone worked very hard," I said warmly. "I had a fantastic time!" I took a bite of my eggs. "Wow, this is yummy!"

He laughed, and began eating his own meal. We ate in silence and he sipped his wine.

"Are you not going to drink your wine? It's from my father's cellars."

"I don't usually drink," I said, not looking up.

He looked contrite. "No need to explain, is water alright?" I nodded and he returned to the kitchen, bringing back a metal jug of cool water.

We sat back after finishing our meals, drinking our wine and water respectively, and I chuckled as he told an amusing story about a clerk he had encountered during his business just after lunch. The fellow had obviously consumed some spinach or lettuce and a large portion of it was stuck in his teeth. Every time he spoke, and especially if he smiled, it waved about, mesmerising Nick, but he was too much of a gentleman to point it out. Towards the end of their transaction, whilst they were shaking hands, the clerk had suddenly sneezed profusely, during which the offending vegetation was dislodged, ending up on Nick's lapel. The clerk had looked at him with horror, and Nick had calmly removed it and placed it in the man's hand, saying "I believe this belongs to you," before doffing his hat and leaving the building. He had a captivating storytelling style, and I was soon feeling very comfortable and extremely relaxed. The day was catching up with me and I was feeling a little light-headed. It was just about time for me to turn in.

"So, are you enjoying London?" Nick asked.

"Oh yes, I love it." It was true, I did love London.

"What did you say you do back in Australia?"

"Oh," I screwed up my face trying to think of what it was I did do. Before I married Wayne of course. No wife of his was going to work, he said. Of course, he also took every opportunity to remind me, both in private and in front of all his friends, that he supported me, and what a burden I was. Before I was married, however, I worked in child care. I doubted there was such a thing in these days. Mothers stayed home with their babies or they were looked after by family I supposed. .

"I'm a Nursery School teacher." I said eventually. My voice sounded quite strange to my own ears. I really should go to bed. And hadn't he asked me these same questions earlier today? I wasn't sure now.

"Did you leave your position to come here?"

I shook my head. "No, I was married. So I didn't work then. But now I'm not. Married that is. Or working." My grasp of the English language seemed to have escaped me. I giggled at the image of words growing legs and running off, out the back door, with me running after them calling for them to return.

"How long were you married?"

"You're asking a lot of questions." I frowned.

He shrugged, smiling charmingly at me. "I'm just interested in you. You can ask me questions too, if you like. What would you like to know?"

I would like to know what he looked like without that tight collar and suit, I thought, then giggled again. I really was very naughty.

"Are you really a war hero?"

"I'm no hero," he said flatly. "But I was in the army during the war, and I was in intelligence as John said. Now, my turn. How long were you married?"

I sighed. "Too long. Years. Years and years."

"How many years?"

"Three. I think."

"That's not many years," he chided.

"It felt like it," I said. "It felt like a hundred years."

"I am gathering it wasn't a happy marriage."

"You are gathering right." I nodded a few great big nods.

"And am I right in guessing you were divorced?"

"Right again, sir!" I pointed a finger at him. What a clever chap he was!

"So you're not Catholic then."

"Not anything actually. A bit Buddhist. Maybe some Jedi."

"Jedi? Is that an Eastern religion? I haven't heard of it."

I began to laugh, and I couldn't stop, even after I had fallen off my chair and onto my bottom on the floor. He rushed around to help me up. I was very wobbly on my feet and I began to feel a little concerned.

"Nick?"

"Yes?"

"Did you put something in my drink?"

"Come on, I'll help you up to your room."

He was avoiding my question. Now I was getting a little panicked. I was alone in a big house in a strange city with what was turning out to be a very strange man. A man who had rufied me!

"I can go on my own, thank you." I was trying to sound dignified but I was staggering like a drunken sailor as I headed up the stairs. He walked behind me with his arms outstretched.

"I'm not going fall, you idiot." I was very annoyed with him.

"I'm just trying to help."

I stopped at the first landing and turned to face him.

"I am not going to let you have sex with me." I announced. He looked flabbergasted. I found the sight of his mouth opening and closing like a cartoon goldfish to be hilarious and started laughing so hard I couldn't move.

As my laughter waned to a giggle I began to climb the stairs again. The dizziness was wearing off a little and by the time I reached my door, although not altogether myself, I was starting to feel very, very angry with Nick. I stormed inside and slammed the door in his face. I was fairly sure it had whacked him right in the nose, and I was quite pleased with that. I turned the big key and removed it, tossing it on the dressing table.

"Eddie, please let me in."

"No."

"I'm sorry."

"I don't care."

"Let me in, please. We need to talk."

"I do not want to talk to you." I said with the most dignity I could muster. A surge of anger had me adding "you bastard!" He had drugged me! For what purpose? I tried to think logically. He had been asking me questions. He didn't appear to want to ravish me, more was the pity. I suddenly felt exhausted and a wave of nausea overtook me. I fumbled with the tie of my robe and once I had awkwardly managed to shrug it off I climbed onto the big bed in my slip and fell promptly asleep.