I thought I saw her walking towards me in the town today and fell to considering whether I had the courage to ask: ‘Tell me something: is your husband the father of your daughter?’ (I should point out here that I have no doubt whatsoever that her husband is the father of her daughter. The question was entirely manufactured in the hope that she might slap me in the face and walk away in a huff, for reasons I’ve already explained.) But then another consideration pushed itself to the front of the queue: such a question might seriously offend her, and I wouldn’t do that for the world, and so considering whether or not I had the courage became a redundant exercise. And it wasn’t the Lady B walking towards me anyway, so it didn’t matter.
I did, however, see the Lady B’s sister for the first time
in a long time. I’ve mentioned the Lady R (for so she might be styled) before. I
find her endlessly intriguing because:
1. She appears chronically reluctant to be drawn into a
conversation. If I say ‘hello’ to her and get a ‘hello’ back, that’s about as
much as I can reasonably expect. If I get a smile as well, that’s a bonus.
Today I got a smile and felt light headed for at least five seconds in
consequence.
2. She makes it plainly obvious – or appears to – that she
dislikes me. I’m sure there are plenty of people who dislike me, but few make
it as plainly obvious as she does. (I quite approve of that, actually; it’s
authentic.) I remember the time when she cut me off in the middle of a
discussion with a simple ‘bye, Jeff’ and walked away. She was in company with
others at the time and they followed her. I went the other way. And I remember another
time when I can be quite certain that she hid in order to avoid bumping into
me.
3. She also appears to be possessed of the skill to make
herself nearly invisible in plain sight. I read once that people in certain
professions, like secret agents for example, are trained to do it. I believe it
has something to do with reining in your presence so that people don’t notice
you. And so I wonder whether she’s been trained, or whether it comes naturally
to her.
4. Given how attractive she is – especially now that she’s
trimmed herself to the point of being almost describable as ‘lean’ – I wonder
why she isn’t either married or accompanied by a queue of young men all waiting
for their chance to escort her to the ball. Maybe she dislikes balls. (Don’t we
all?) Or maybe she bucked the trend and never wanted to be a princess. Sorry, frogs. No princely metamorphosis for you, my lads.
Notwithstanding all of the above, the fact that she apparently
dislikes me and has no intention of ever talking to me means that I shall never
have the answer to the questions. But at least it gives me something to write a
post about when I’m bored.
No comments:
Post a Comment