Page 28 of The Songbird of Wychwood

“What the bleedin’ hell was all that about?” Eloise asked, confused as we watched him go.

“I was goin’ to ask you the same thing,”

“Come on, let’s get our warm up done and then we’ll go up to mine, I’ve got a lot to tell you!”

****

“I saw your gent in the back alley when I left last night. He’s a pretty one,” Eloise revealed gleefully as I made us a nice cup of cocoa after our warm up. “Did you find out his name?

“I found out more than his name!”

Eloise gasped in faux shock, “George! You dirt bird! Tell me all about it!” We shared a conspiratorial look, snickered, and then took our cups of hot cocoa to the couch. We put our mugs down on the steamer trunk. Eloise then sat cross legged at one end of the couch and I sat at the other and put my legs up to rest in her lap. She stripped off my sock and started to rub my feet. I loved having my feet rubbed. Eloise was tactile, and I was so comfortable with her, I swear if I was attracted to ladies, she’d have been my missus by now.

“You go first,” I suggested as I lay back with my hands behind my head, enjoying the foot massage.

“Very well. But you have to guess who I left with last night.” I could hear the self-satisfied smile in her voice. A pretty, young, and frankly, bendy girl like Eloise was very popular with the gentlemen, but Lou weren’t no prostitute. She was choosy about who she spent her time with, and knew how to play the game.

“Was it the bloke who bought you the French bodice?” I opened my eyes to see that Eloise shook her head, but kept her thumbs pressing deliciously on the soles of my aching feet.

“The Russian Duke?”

“Alexandrovich, oh gawd no! He smells of fishy farts.”

“Um…Whatsisname, Rupert Chatsworth, that nobby fellow who’s writing a play and looking for his ingénue?”

“Oh, Randy Rupert! He’s been doing the rounds alright. He did try and whisk me away, but nope, it wasn’t him.”

“Oh, come on Lou, you’ve got so many suitors I’ve lost count. Gimmie a break!”

“Fine! I left with Mademoiselle Marianne La Fleur,” she said with a twinkle in her playful blue eyes.

“Marianne Can-Can!” I gasped.

“Yep, Mon belle femme. You should have seen us. Me a contortionist, her with her long dancer’s legs wrapped around me!”

“LOU!” I said mirroring her early faux shock. “You could have sold tickets to that show!”

“Mari certainly knew how to tip the velvet and tickle le-fleur, if you get what I mean!”

I pulled my feet from her hands and we both curled up laughing. “You should have seen the way all of them coves that hung around the stage door followed us to the pub, their tongues hanging out. As if either me, or Mari would have chosen one of them wastes of space. We got ‘em to buy us drinks and then we pretended to go to the latrine together. We did a runner out of the back door and went to mine.”

“You love playing with fire, Lou!”

“I really do! I’ve been on the circuit for five years and if I’ve seen one neck-or-nothing young blood, I’ve seen ‘em all. If men think they can buy me, let ‘em try. I ain’t getting up to no havey-cavey business with any old rake.”

I loved how feisty and determined Eloise was, and how she rebelled against what society expected of her. We were two peas in a pod in that respect, cos I too fought against the peg hole society wanted to push me into.

“So, are you gonna tell me about tall, blond and pretty?”

I melted back onto the couch and groaned. “Oh Lou, we had such a wonderful time. I think I love him!” I said as I theatrically clutched my hands to my chest. And do you know what my best friend did? She bloody laughed. She laughed so hard she slipped off the couch and onto the floor. I didn’t think that me professing my love for Percy after one night together was a laughing matter, but Eloise found it bloomin’ hilarious.

“Oi! What’s so funny?” I pouted, affronted.

“You. I’ve never seen a fellow so cock-drunk after a tumble! Oh Georgie, you’re such a romantic fop!” Eloise gracefully rose to her feet then sat on my lap and pulled me in for a hug. The pout remained firmly on my face. I didn’t appreciate being mocked when I’d opened my heart.

“Come on then, tell me about your beau,” she cajoled.

“I don’t think I will.” I turned away, nursing my injured pride and refused to look at her. Eloise pinched my cheeks and forced me to turn and face her.