An Affair to Remember Read Online Free

are worth or not at all, don’t you agree?”
    “Not entirely,” Beatrice re-drapes the black cardigan, over her shoulders, “I’m afraid that if there’s too much blood and guts lying about the stage I have a tendency to giggle. I can’t help feeling that to pile on the agony too blatantly does sometimes manage to turn the whole thing into a bit of a farce.”
    “Perhaps.” He plainly disagrees, but equally plainly can’t be bothered to argue the point. They’re seated rather uncomfortably in a coffee bar near the theatre. Neither of them want coffee, nor, it has to be said, to spend any longer in each other’s company than convention demands. Beatrice looks at her watch, “Good heavens, is that the time. I better get going, buses are few and far between at this time of the night, and it always seems to take ages to get to Kensington.” Wain, showing the first sign real enthusiasm he’s shown all evening, jumps to his feet, pushes back the spindly plastic-covered stool he’s been perching on with such force it hits the occupant of the table behind him – a heavily made-up lady of uncertain age in a leopardskin patterned mini skirt.
    “Mind how you go, dear,” she says, giving him a look, “you nearly had my tea over.”
    Wain, a faint flush on his otherwise parchment coloured cheeks, apologises, Beatrice tries to contain her giggles, says, after all three parties have finally pulled themselves together, “It’s been a most interesting evening, Wain,” (liar) “and I really enjoyed the play. Thank you so much.”
    Wain smiles a thin smile, puts out his hand, “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I’m only sorry I cannot accompany you back to Kensington,” (liar) “but Cockfosters is of course in the opposite direction. However, I have your phone number, and will if I may, give you a ring. Not in the immediate future, I’m afraid, Mother and I are off to Italy for a brief break before term begins, and there’s always a hundred and one things to do at the start of the new academic year.”
    “Of course.” Unusually for her Beatrice finds herself lost for words, then realises she just simply can’t be bothered to think of anything else to say. She holds out her hand; his skin feels slimy to the touch. “Goodbye then and thank you once again for everything.” At the door she turns to give him a friendly wave, but he’s still standing where she left him staring glassily ahead, a man in a dream. Oh well…
    Back in the flat, Sylvia, still up, switches off the TV. “Only rubbish, I slept through most of it. Well then, how did it go?”
    “Grim, Syl, grim, if you really want to know. He was worse than I expected, nearly as bad as Mr Taylor and that’s saying something. He didn’t like me much either, in fact he couldn’t wait to get away.”
    She looks haunted, Sylvia’s thinking, feeling a tingling of unexpected shock, that’s the only word for it, surely a dud date shouldn’t make her look like that? Something’s really wrong, must be. “And what about the play?” she asks brightly, hoping for a more positive response, “I know one doesn’t exactly enjoy Webster, but –”
    “Brilliant. It really was.” Beatrice slumps into a chair; the black cardigan falls in a heap on the floor, she looks down at it with loathing. “I envied the Duchess of Malfi having all those frightful things happening to her, at least they were happening, not everything going off at half cock.” And to Syl’s consternation, she bursts into tears.
    Feeling inadequate, she pats her friend’s heaving shoulders. “Surely, luv, he can’t have been that bad? Did something happen on the way home – something else?”
    “No, nothing happened, quite a good journey actually, and no, he wasn’t that bad, probably rather sad really. He had a mother…”
    “That wouldn’t help. Look, luv, what about a good strong drink? Paddy brought back a duty free bottle of gin from his last trip to Beirut and gave it to me as