Page 14 of The Songbird of Wychwood

Our eyes met in the mirror and we both erupted in peals of laughter. Eloise hugged me from behind.

“So what happened…I need details?”

“My pianist was playing a set of waltzes. One fellow took me out for a dance, and this gent just stepped in and pulled me from the other fellow’s arms.”

“He didn’t!” Eloise was scandalized.

“It’s true. He was so masterful and romantic and then we waltzed together. It was like I was dancing on the clouds, Lou. I swear, I ain’t never had so much fun in my life.”

“And?”

“And, then, the waltz was over, and he vanished. My boss told me the gentleman left!”

I opened my dressing table drawer and picked out one of the rags I kept especially for removing cold cream. I set to scraping the cream off my face while Eloise brushed my hair. We were silent for a while before Eloise asked, “So, I don’t suppose he gave you any clues to who he is?”

I thought back to the brief time we’d shared, and no, I couldn’t recall anything he’d said that would give me a clue to his identity. He was good at cards, he loved music, and he was a wonderful dancer, but so were lots of men. “Nothing,” I sighed. “But you’ll be pleased to hear that even though I got shitfaced after, I did remember to bring back leftovers from the buffet like I said I would. They’re in the pantry.” Eloise’s reflection was comical, “All’s not lost then!” She tossed the hairbrush to the dressing table and rushed to my pantry where I’d put the cloth napkins filled with leftover pastries and confectionary.

The kettle was whistling on the stove, and so my best friend and I breakfasted like aristocrats, on chocolate truffles, spiced apple pastry, pineapple, and black tea.

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