The drive home from Stella, was easier than the outward one. I left feeling that she might recover, although I wasn’t holding my breath. I would just have to try and see her at least once a week, to keep nagging her. I couldn’t pull the stunt I’d just used again, that was for sure, but I could keep niggling at the wedding stuff to try and keep her interested. If she was well, she’d be in her element choosing clothes and decorations, so I hoped I might rekindle that interest.

I got home at six and jumped in the shower. I dried my hair and put it up–I’m not as good at it as Stella, but I managed to leave a few tendrils hanging down, which I curled with my tongs. I know Simon finds them sexy, can’t think why–too many old films I suspect.

I dressed in my exotic lingerie, stuff that Stella had given me, in black frilly and lacy silk. The push up bra gave me a bit more cleavage and I was going to wear a plunge necked top. The top was a gold and black affair with some sparkly bits and beads embroidered onto it. It was cap sleeved with a cross over plunge front. I was going to wear it with some rather tight, flared black trousers. I would wear my black velvet jacket and my mother’s necklace and earrings. My makeup, well I hadn’t worn much for ages, so any felt rather a lot. I used some lipstick, eyeliner and mascara with some blusher and a good squirt of Opium.

I went downstairs and chatted to Tom, who naturally wanted to know how I’d found Stella.

“I managed to provoke her into some response.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” he replied with a smile.

“Are you suggesting I am provocative?”

“Me? I wouldn’t dream of it,” now he was laughing.

“Talk about, give a dog a bad name.”

“You see, mademoiselle, your reputation precedes you.”

“Moi? Sacre bleu!”

“Indeed!” he couldn’t say anymore he was laughing too much.

Simon arrived as we were talking, he dumped his overnight bag and snatched me up like a feather. “I have missed you babes,” he said and kissed off most of my lipstick. I suppose there is nothing like making an impression, and that he certainly did. After he put me back down, he glanced at Tom and said, “Oh hi, Tom.”

“Simon,” acknowledged our gracious landlord.

“You look delicious, Cathy. I must jump in the shower, any chance of a cup of coffee, I am parched?”

“I suppose so, “ I said to his disappearing back as he ran up stairs. I went into the kitchen to make his drink. “Most men don’t want a wife, they want a mistress, a cook and a maid–but as they can only afford one, they settle for a wife.

“Oh dear is my little girl becoming cynical?” said Tom sniggering to himself, “she becomes wise in the way of men.”

“Now you tell me!” I squeaked.

“Well I can’t give trade secrets to the enemy, can I?”

“I suppose not, if you see us as the enemy.”

“Just occasionally, I suspect men and women are separate species.”

“That is hardly a new observation, is it? However, it’s hardly based on any scientific fact is it, a bit like that book about Mars and Venus.”

“It’s made the author a fortune,” he said, so someone found it useful.

“I haven’t read it, as I believe it’s a bigger load of nonsense than the Naked Ape.”

“Desmond Morris, was a very keen observer and an astute writer.”

“So why didn’t he stick to mammals, like thee and me?”

“He was too much of a polymath, besides he enjoyed the celebrity of his television work and the notoriety of his writing. Remember, he was writing a mere fifty or sixty years after that trial in the States, where Darwin was so ably defended against the forces of regression.”

“You mean, religion?”

“I suppose it was primarily. What is so sad, is that they are still fighting the same battle over and over, even though science won it years ago.”

“That’s America for you, a land of contradictions.” I made Simon’s coffee and took it up to him. He showered and was dressing.

“Where are we eating?”

“I booked a table at the Pig and Whistle.”

“Oh yes, they have a restaurant there now, don’t they?”

“I sincerely hope so, or we could get rather hungry.”

“What time?”

“Eight.”

“Oops, better get a move on then.” He towelled his hair and then combed it int half a style. He pulled on a tie and turned his collar down over it, then donned his jacket.

I hugged him, “My handsome man,” I said and pulled him closely to me.

“That’s me,” he said without a hint of self-consciousness.

After that, there wasn’t really much I could say. Obviously, he was interested in my visit to Stella. “When I phoned earlier they said she’d been eating. I asked if she’d had any visitors and they told me her sister had been to visit. I knew then that you had performed another of your miracles. Tom was right, you are special.”

“Don’t let an old man’s delusions cloud your judgement,” I said and we drove to the pub.

“I’d hardly say that a professor would be someone I’d accuse of delusions.”

“What the nutty professor? Could you get a better indictment than that?”

“Cathy, I came home to have a cosy weekend with my fiancée, I did not come for a Socratic discussion.”

“Oh dear, you must have come to the wrong house then.” I smiled at him and he shot me a dirty look. “I was waiting for this mysterious man, who was going to wine and dine me and if I was still awake, take advantage of me.”

“Is there any chance of you staying awake?”

“Probably not.”

“Dammit!” he said and banged his hand against the steering wheel.

Well I could hardly help it if I always got sleepy after a couple of glasses of wine and plate of food. He should know that by now, besides, absence makes the heart grow fonder, or so they say.