THE FLAPPER'S FAN

EPILOGUE

I awoke in the night, sweating.  It wasn't the first time I had the bad dream since Nick had returned.  He had held me until I had stopped shaking on a few occasions now.  I listened, but there was no cry from the nursery.  Nevertheless, I felt an urgent need to check on him and slipped from the bed, pulling on the robe that I had flung across the dressing table chair before padding down the hallway to his room.  As I reached to open the nursery door I saw out of the corner of my eye a dark shadow moving swiftly.  I turned in terror, but there was nothing there.  My heart thumping I rushed into Nicky's room.  He lay in his bed, on his tummy with his bottom in the air, snug in a onesie, one arm around his teddy bear, the thumb of his other hand in his mouth.  I let out a breath in a deep sigh and pulled his little blanket over him, gently stroking his head before I left the room.

I looked around, but there was no sign of anything untoward and strangely enough I felt that everything was fine.  I was suddenly very sure there was nothing to worry about.  I was however wide awake so I padded down the stairs to the kitchen where I had once shared many a conversation with Mrs Brewer.  It was quite modern now, with all the conveniences, and I put the kettle on for a cup of tea.  As I did so, I saw that Nick had brought the mail in but hadn't opened it.  There was a small padded manila envelope addressed to me and I picked it up curiously, turning it over before tearing it open and pulling out a folded piece of paper, inside of which was a photo.  It was an old photograph, restored and reprinted but originally quite old.  It showed four people sitting at a table in a nightclub, the Trocdero, in 1925.  Nick, Harry, Charlie and I.  I was holding the flapper's fan, and Nick, I saw in surprise, was smiling at me as I gazed in wonder at the throng on the dance floor.  In the background, you could quite clearly see Grace surrounded by her admirers.  I smiled to look at it, then turned to the piece of paper.  It was blank, but on impulse I lifted it to my nose.  The dusty smell of the little store lingered in the fibres, I would never forget that smell.  

It all seemed a little like a dream now, but a good one, one that had brought me love and happiness. 

As I made my way back to my bedroom where my husband lay sleeping soundly, his dark curls falling across his forehead, past the room where our son lay sleeping soundly, I was quite sure I would never have the bad dream again.

*****

In the little store, the woman closed the ledger and looked around.  She knew she was taking too many risks now, but she would not leave lovers separated by time, no matter what the rules were.  She knew he would come for her eventually, and she was prepared for it, she was quite resigned to it actually.  He could have her.  She had been here too long already.  Just as long as he left the lovers alone.

******