Chapter Five #3
‘She could always wear a bigger hat if she doesn’t.’
‘Now, you’re getting it.’
The pints arrived. They each ordered a light supper, then picked up their glasses and clinked them together.
‘What else do I need to know about dating in this modern era?’ he asked.
‘Be yourself,’ she said. ‘Like Gwen said, that’s who you are in the long run, so let her know who you are now.’
Easy, Sparks, she admonished herself. Don’t push him too hard.
‘I’ve never truly been able to do that on a first date,’ he said wistfully. ‘The closest I’ve ever got was that long lunch with you at the Whim. You were so open about everything that I couldn’t help wanting to be the same. Are you still like that?’
‘I’ve become much more reticent in my old age,’ she said. ‘I sometimes wish I could be like that bold young girl again. I’ve been burned a few times too many since then. But be open, Tony. Secrets cause damage. I’ve learned that the hard way.’
‘You know I can’t tell all my secrets,’ he said quietly.
‘Not on the first date, certainly,’ she said. ‘But if it goes well, sooner or later the walls must topple. For both of you.’
‘Did your fiancé know everything about you?’ he asked, glancing down at her ring.
‘He knew a great deal,’ said Sparks. ‘I would have told him the rest, given time. We didn’t have enough, unfortunately.’
‘I’m sorry again, Sparks,’ he said. ‘Sorry I never got a chance to meet him and give you my blessing.’
‘It would have been interesting seeing the two of you interact,’ she said. ‘You’re from very different worlds.’
‘Don’t tell me he went to Oxford!’ he exclaimed in mock horror.
‘Oh, no,’ she said, laughing. ‘I still have some standards. No, his school was of the hard knocks variety. He was a spiv from the East End.’
‘Really? Well, I guess I shouldn’t be all that surprised. You grew up there as well, I recall.’
‘Different part, but yes,’ she said. ‘We could speak the same language.’
‘You can speak everyone’s language everywhere,’ he said. ‘It surprised the hell out of us back then when we found out you weren’t one of us.’
‘Lucky for me you were so intent on destroying class structure back then,’ she said.
‘Maybe not so lucky,’ he said. ‘Here comes the food. And we’re dry. Another pint?’
‘Yes, please.’
As she looked up at the barmaid, she noticed a man sitting at the bar. He had been watching them, but turned away as she looked up, drawing her attention.
His hair was neatly combed now, and his suit fit in with those of the lawyers and clerks who had come in from across the street, but she immediately recognised him as the dock worker who had made contact with her on Edgware Road.
No surprise that the Brigadier would have a man tailing Tony, she thought.
Unless he was tailing her. Would they be doing that? She hadn’t noticed anyone following after she left The Right Sort, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t happening. Or maybe their office phone was being tapped, which meant that this meeting had triggered the surveillance.
No, it must be for Tony, she concluded. He’s the target. She wondered if he had picked up the tail.
‘What about flowers?’ asked Tony. ‘Do I bring them as a first date offering? Or is that too much?’
‘Depends on where you’re meeting her,’ said Sparks. ‘Flowers are always welcome, but they have to be lugged around for the rest of the evening. That can become impractical, not to mention precarious to their lifespan.’
‘And roses come with thorns,’ he said. ‘Flowers for a later date, then. One where I am picking her up at her flat, so they can be left behind, preferably in a vase with some water. Excellent coaching, Sparks. I shall become a romantic pragmatist.’
They concluded the meal with a third pint each. She was definitely feeling the effects by the end of it, rising unsteadily as he came around to hold her chair.
‘I’m going to call you a taxi,’ he said.
‘No need,’ she assured him.
‘It’s the height of the evening, and I have put you into a wobbly condition,’ he said. ‘I insist.’
‘I surrender,’ she said, taking his proffered arm.
She assumed the tail was still on the job as they walked out of the pub.
‘What about a kiss?’ he asked.
‘At the end of a first date?’ she replied. ‘That depends entirely on how things go between—’
The kiss caught her by surprise.
Her first instinct was to shove him away. She quashed it before putting it into action and allowed the kiss to happen, letting her arms drop to her sides. He sensed her reluctance, and released her.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have done that.’
‘It’s all right, Tony,’ she said, reaching for her handkerchief and dabbing her mouth. ‘But please don’t do that again. Why did you do it?’
‘I’m out of practice,’ he said. ‘I thought I’d give it a go with someone I once kissed before I try it on someone new.’
‘You would have been better off trying that when you saw me in Maggs Brothers,’ she said.
‘The two of us surrounded by old books,’ he said. ‘I remember. Lesson learned, Sparks. Here’s a cab. What’s the address?’
‘Little Venice,’ she said, as he held the door for her. ‘I’m living on a narrowboat.’
‘Sounds nice. As long as there aren’t any typhoons.’
‘So far, so good,’ she said. ‘Goodnight, Tony. Let me know how things go.’
He slipped some coins to the cabbie, then waved as she rode away. She gave a tentative wave back in response, then turned and watched through the windscreen without another backwards glance.
She had the cabbie let her off a street away rather than have him know her exact location, then walked to the Cecilia.
She wondered if there would be someone waiting for her already, but the narrowboat had no one there who shouldn’t be.
She went inside and immediately brushed her teeth, hoping it would reduce the smell of ale on her breath.
Then she picked up her book of British water beetles, curled up in the overstuffed armchair in the saloon, and read, waiting.
She had almost drifted off when the knock came at the door. She put the book down, then picked up her cricket bat which she had placed leaning against the armchair. She walked over to the door.
‘Who is it?’ she called.
‘It’s Carruthers, Lollipop,’ came a man’s voice. ‘Put your coat on. He’s in the car, and he’s hopping mad.’