Now, I say ‘waved’, but I have to admit that the term is
something of a misnomer in this particular instance. The verb ‘to wave’
normally indicates an action of some volume in which the arm is raised – if only
slightly – and the hand is moved sideways and back again to indicate greeting. (I
have a vague recollection that the Lady B’s waves were particularly voluminous,
but my recollection might be faulty on the matter. Such is the way of life’s
ephemera.) The Lady B’s sister’s gesture was not so much a wave as a waggle of
the little finger, the hand on which it was placed being wrapped around a
mobile phone into which she was speaking. It was accompanied, however, by a
slight turn of the head, and one must always accept favour where even the
slightest favour is offered.
I declined the almost overwhelming compulsion to wave back,
but made do instead with a smile. It might even have been a wry smile; I don’t
rightly remember. What I do remember is that the returning of a waggle with a
smile had something of the enigma about it, and ‘enigma’ is always the
watchword in matters pertaining to the mysterious lady in question.
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