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| Willow's Magpie 33 |
Elegant, sleek and light-footed, he walked into the room.
On entering the hall, he had removed his hat, placing it on the hat stand provided for the purpose.
The assembled company, as if drawn by invisible strings held in the hands of an invisible puppet master, turned towards the door. Momentarily, the hum of conversation lessened. With all eyes on him, he stood still, nonchalantly and supremely confident, framed by the doorway just behind him.
Mrs. Montgomery came towards him; stretching out her hand. Lightly, he took it, bowed his head, and left the merest suggestion of a kiss on it. She led him into the centre of the room, to the group assembled there. She smiled and the group opened up to admit the newcomer.
Miss Marjorie had coloured slightly when she had first seen him. Proximity to the man she secretly, if ill-advisedly, adored, always made her nervous. She hoped no one had noticed the slight tremor of the hand holding her glass; but all was well, nobody had noticed. Nobody ever noticed her. She sighed, raising her hand to her forehead, as if to wipe away the sad thought. As she did so, she spilled a small amount of wine, leaving a tiny red puddle on her arm.
Instantly, he withdrew the snowy white handkerchief from his top pocket to assist her, wiping the spill.
Col. Bottomley observed this; secretly, he was annoyed at the popinjay, as he called the latecomer. “Not really our sort of chap”, he had said on more than one occasion, “don’t know why Old Montgomery has him in the house”.
“Bit heavy on the old Acqua di Parma, old chap”, he now said, as the fragrance emanating from the scrap of cloth hit his nostrils, allowing a faint hint of distaste into the words.
"Popinjay" - what a lovely word, haven't seen it used for years. Charming post Friko
ReplyDeleteI loved this, I was in the room watching, wonderfully written!
ReplyDeleteYour description is so visual. I too was momentarily there.
ReplyDeleteLoved the Popinjay's(wonderful word that I need to put back in my vocabulary)kindness.
Again, you have drawn me in... Waiting, discerning who the newcomer could be.
ReplyDeleteVery well done!
It's so very difficult to break into an established group - I think he'll be all right, though, with such charming manners!
ReplyDeleteNow I want to know the rest of the story. does he sweep her off her feet?
ReplyDeleteFriko your prose are like poetry...beautiful and captivating...i want to hear more about him. :-)
ReplyDeleteDamn upstart better watch that filly or he will have her away! You are clever at capturing things Friko!
ReplyDeleteOh I saw every movement in my mind...so well done
ReplyDeleteloved it
Barbara Pym watch out...Friko is in the room!
ReplyDeleteYou can't leave us here - I need to know what Miss Marjorie is wearing; does Col. Bottomley harbour a deep feeling for our gentle spinster?....please go on.
Great story- I could visualize all those stuffed shirts!
ReplyDeleteMy favorite words? 'as if to wipe away the sad thought' ... your Magpie is just wonderful!
ReplyDeleteI was caught up in the story and loved the feel and setting of this. :-)
ReplyDeleteFriko - I can't tell you how much I enjoy reading your blog posts. I always want to know more!!
ReplyDeleteOh so very Georgette Heyer ...I loved this Friko.
ReplyDeleteYes, many thanks for discovering
ReplyDeletethat acqua di parma can be worn
by men as well, or just to scent
a gentleman's handkerchief.
Yes, too, concerning the fine
detail of the story, made one feel
like they were seeing the prelude to
a Noel Coward play, or even
the second act of an Oscar
Wilde romp; real Masterpiece
Theater ambiance here.
And what a lovely bookend
for Willow's poem and
challenge.
How elegant a scene you created here - now I want the second act!
ReplyDeleteEloquent and elegant - the scene is wonderfully full and textured. I so enjoyed the read!
ReplyDeleteWonderful description -- yes, I too thought of Barbara Pym.
ReplyDeleteJust plain old jealousy..I need more of this romance!!
ReplyDeletewonderful! this played out like an old black and white movie :)
ReplyDeleteI can just hear that crisp dialog...
Rene
Surely an alien world to this bohemian...
ReplyDeletethanks for making me a fly on the wall.
and yes, life does interfere frightfully with blogging and I do not take anything for "granted" but as daily gifts.
all the best to you, Friko
Warm Aloha from Waikiki
Comfort Spiral
Yes , a chap should smell of wet dog , his bathroom of old flannels .
ReplyDeleteNice post. I like the characters.
ReplyDeleteI'll bet Col. Bottomley is a heavy smoker.
ReplyDeleteNice story, Friko.
absolutely perfect, you captured the 'feel,' and smell of the perfume with your narrative. cool characters too, i def. want to read more.
ReplyDeleteIs he a cad, or isn't he. Or at least a bounder. Oh the endless possibilities, I love these vignettes, Friko,you ignite your readers' imaginations!
ReplyDeleteXO
WWW
So many great images and phrases, drawing us in, though my favorite may have to be the last: "allowing a faint hint of distaste into the words."
ReplyDeleteAh, that wasn't me up there, watching and listening. Just so you know.
ReplyDeleteWe'll have to work out a secret code or something. But before I forget to say so, this was a delicious little story. Good zinger of a last line!
excellent...you took us right there and left us with the distasteful scent..perhaps of jealousy...nice magpie!
ReplyDeleteThis was delicious, Friko. I liked it a lot because it sounded so British to me – just loved it. Now I am ready to read the rest of the story… I just finished a British novel, actually she was writing about Scotland (but it’s in the neighborhood) so I’d like to read more in that style.
ReplyDeleteThis painted a wonderfully vivid picture for me. Thank you :)
ReplyDelete