VI
The dim, smoky shafts of dying sunlight barely pierce through the sooty ceiling windows stretching the length of Brighton Station as what Lidia had earlier deemed "half of England" or something quite close to it mill hurriedly about and pack the platforms in fidgety expectation of the five o' clock train to London, Oxford, Slough and parts north. Only the present trio of Aggie, Mary and Arch, now appearing much more refreshed and relaxed than when they first arrived a few hours ago, seem to display a picture of patient calm amidst the mad turbulence of rush hour.
"Damn it!" Mary irately ejaculates. "I wonder if the lovely chocs in my valise are all melted now!"
"Did you notice if they were a bit soft before?" asks Arch.
"I didn't, but I hadn't sampled any since I checked because I wanted to eat them later!" She hefts up her valise and fumbles to undo the straps with her less dominant hand, but thinks differently of it and sighs. "No, I'll wait 'til we're in our compartment to make sure."
"You can always put 'em in your icebox at home if needs be, Mary," says Aggie helpfully.
"Yes, but they won't be in their nice pre-melty round or boxy shapes, will they?" Mary keens. "Even if I put them in cold storage..." She sighs again. "Well, no, I suppose it's still chocolate, isn't it? Rather quite delicious, yes?"
"Ooh, always!" Aggie answers brightly, comedically licking her lips.
"Damn! Wish I'd bought a few from Gumm's, now that I think of it," adds Arch ruefully.
"I'll gladly share with the two of you," smiles Mary, who suddenly gasps. "Oh, no, the 'Tootle-oo's! Bloody hell, what if they're all sticky?!" She repeats the intention of opening her valise but demurs once again. "Icebox?"
Aggie nods. "Actually, Mary, may I now change the subject away from candy, scrumptious though it is?"
"Of course, Ag."
"Please explain to me once more why only we three are returning to London."
"Well, apparently Tim and Poppy came to Brighton with some friends that were here on some business, and they're quite eager to leave on the five o'clock express."
"Whilst being quite insistent that we needn't join them," says Arch.
"Well, they can have it, right? What's fifteen more minutes in beautiful Brighton? Or at least in its train station? And I think-yes! See them over there?" Mary points across the double set of tracks to Tim and Poppy standing nearly fifty yards away near the edge of another crowded platform, both seeming as fidgety as their soon-to-be fellow passengers."I shan't wave because they seem rather preoccupied."
"What friends? Who?"
Mary shrugs. "They never said. Seemed a bit reluctant to."
Aggie purses her lips.
"What are you thinking, Ag? Same suspicions you had on the pier?"
"Well, it's just-I still don't understand, why were they here, Mary, in Brighton of all places? Why not go to Ilfracombe or Weston-super-Mare or anywhere on the Isle of consarned Wight?"
"Blackpool?" offers Arch. "Ah, no, that's far too north even for a half-holiday. Southend-on-Sea?"
"Right. But its got to be more than the frigging candy they were here for, Mary! I'd like to know who these 'friends' are!"
"We could have gone to those lovely places too, you know. But it was an absolute coincidence that we met them here."
"Small island, I suppose," remarks Arch.
"Yes, I'm sure it was a coincidence, Mary, but still..."
"What of the other ladies, Mary?"
"Oh, yes, Arch! Thank you!" Mary blurts, quite glad to move away from the Tim and Poppy subject. "Diana told me that she, Lidia and Adora decided to remain here and lodge at a hotel to discuss, well...things."
"But doesn't Lidia have rehearsals for La Stupendo Nero this week?"
"I'm sure it'll just be for tonight. Besides she could sing Messalina in her sleep."
"Quite."
"What things, Mary?" asks Aggie.
"Mm?"
"What things were they going to discuss?"
"I don't know, Ag," sighs Mary wearily. "All I can tell you is that they seemed keen on some fantastic Greek island which made them squeal and leap about on the strand like giddy schoolgirls."
"I noticed," Arch remarks with a shudder. "Bit awkward, that."
"We all did, Arch, and yes, it was indeed. And no, Ag, I don't know what's quite so fantastic about the island but I rather don't care, and anything else they want to discuss is frankly none of our, as you might say, beeswax. But there's your final answer, Ag, as to why it's just us three riding back to London this evening."
"Oh," Aggie says glumly. "All right. Thank you, Mary."
"What's the matter, Ag?" asks Arch.
"Arch, it's...I'm a bit sad because I just-I just was hoping that we'd all return home as one big jolly party after rather victoriously giving the heat what for, even one including Poppy St. Cecile. I wouldn't have minded her much."
"I understand, Ag," Mary says softly. "That would've been nice. But that's not-"
"Yes, I know it's not. It's just how I feel."
"Ah, well. Would you like a 'Tootle-oo'?"
Aggie smirks. "Sure, if you can actually get your arm to work opening that thing."
"Let's find out, shall we?"
"Wait. Can I have a choc instead?"
"No, I want to check those on the train for meltiness, remember?"
Aggie pouts and stamps her feet. "Aw, I don't wanna 'Tootle-oo,' Mummay, I wanna choc!" she exclaims in a baby girl voice. "Choc! Choc! Choc! Choc!"
"Oh, heavens! Mary, I do believe our naughty little darling here is rather in need of a good public scolding!" Arch remarks dryly.
"Oh, how right you are, Arch, my dear! See here, little Miss Agrippina Dovecote!" Mary growls sternly, wagging her finger. "There'll be no chocs or 'Tootle-oo's or any sweets for you if that's how you behave in public, so please do go and button your brown-hole!"
Aggie starts. "Whoa, what did you say, Mary?"
"Later, Ag. I think I can hear the five coming." The three strain their ears westward seeking the familiar symphony of clickety-clacking train wheels on steel rails, the piercing tenor wail of an engine's whistle and the throbbing chug of smoke from its chimney. Then suddenly remembering who was to board the arriving train Aggie again looks back to the far platform and is stunned by a new and rather brow-knitting scene. "M-mary?" she says a bit hesitantly.
"Mm?"
"Look-"
"What?"
"Look back over at Tim and Poppy!"
"Why, what's going-oh, I see! My goodness! Well, that's rather interesting, isn't it?"
"I say!" exclaims Arch as he follows her gaze. "What do you ladies suppose that's all about?"
Their focus returns to their former beach mates arguing with two newcomers to the platform, a woman and a man over a head taller than she, the bare-armed woman wearing a chocolate brown summer dress with an interwoven cream-colored floral pattern, a matching handbag and cloche hat complementing her outfit, the latter seemingly clamped down over her head without any regard for style or finesse, while the man is rumply clad in an iron grey suit and fedora. Both constantly fidget with the dark sunglasses they each wear, and the tall man hunches his upper body over his companion in a frail attempt to seem inconspicuous.
"Who do you suppose they are?" asks Arch.
Mary peers hard at them. "If I didn't know any better I'd swear-"
"Dog. My. Cats!" Aggie interjects. "It's them!"
"Who, Ag?"
"Teddy and Ginny!"
"Really? Teddy and Ginny?" she says skeptically but peers again. "Hmm."
"See? He's a bit tall, right? And she's shorter. But if it weren't for those bloody sunglasses they've got on we'd know for sure!"
"Dog your cats, I do believe you're right, Ag!" declares Arch.
"Dog both your cats, so do I!" adds Mary excitedly.
"I knew they weren't here just for the sweets!" Aggie exclaims and vigorously waves her arms over her head. "Teddy!! Teddy, over here!! TEDDY!!!"
"Ag, no!" Mary hisses.
"Perhaps you shouldn't-" begins Arch.
"Oh, what the hell!" mutters Aggie. "Gin(ugh!)-VIRGINIA!! VIRGINIA, OVER HERE!! IT'S AGGIE!!! HELLOOO!! TIM!! Oh, why not-POPPY!! AGGIE OVER HERE, ALL!! HELLOOO!!"
The two people assumed to be Teddy and Ginny seem, upon first spotting Aggie, to shrink down in horror into themselves and abruptly turn away from the young woman, while for their parts Tim and Poppy, beaming reluctant smiles, politely wave back.
"Here it comes!" Mary shouts.
Even as Aggie calls out across the tracks the ascending clamor of the oncoming five o'clock express has finally culminated with its plunging down the track and slowing to a screeching halt amidst roiling, noxious clouds of smoke and steam, effectively cutting off not only Aggie's voice but their view of the opposite platform and all the would-be passengers on it.
"Mary, perhaps I should-" Aggie begins.
"No, you shouldn't," chides Mary. "Stay here."
"But if that's Teddy I'd like to-"
"No, let them all go, Ag. For now. Whatever reason Teddy and Ginny are here for is really between them and our other friends. Besides they seemed rather timid when they saw you so perhaps now isn't a good time for a parley."
"Mary's right, Aggie," chimes in Arch. "I'm sorry."
Aggie gazes forlornly at the great iron serpent hissing and stewing in its own fumes and vapors and at the rush of people inside the cars hustling up and down the passageways in search of compartments to comfortably alight in. She stands on tiptoe for a hopeful glance at Teddy or the others, to no avail, then looks glumly at her feet. "I have thought of him, you know, Mary," she murmurs. "Often."
"I don't doubt that in the least, my dear. Actually, Ag, if I'm not too forward in asking-do you fancy him?"
"Oh, no, not in that way. Not yet, if I would at all. Right now I'd like-I'd just-like-" She looks shyly up at Mary and Arch, tears running down her cheeks. "I-I'd really just like to try to make amends for what I did, you know? And perhaps we-we could even be great pals someday!" With a low bow Arch quickly offers her his pocket handkerchief, which she gratefully accepts and dabs at her face as she looks back at the train. "But I may never see him again."
Arch affectionately pats her shoulder. "Never say never, my dear."
"That does it! Arch, do please hold this, thank you," Mary gently commands as she sets her valise into his open arms to unlatch it. "Now Ag, would you like a 'Tootle-oo' or some other nummy thing I've got in here? You insisted on chocs earlier, correct? A Cadbury Egg, perhaps, or some McGlennon's Ginger Biscuits or even just a chew of Reggie's Imperial Gum? Pick your poison."
"A-a-I think just a 'Tootle-oo' please, Mary," a surprised Aggie replies. "Thank you. But weren't you-"
Mary abruptly pecks Aggie's wet cheeks. "Yes, I was, me lovely. I'll do it right now. So!" She paws through some toiletries and a huge wad consisting of her half dried bathing suit wrapped in a striped towel, in search of the famous Gumm's Sweets candy bags. "Here we are! Now let me see if...yes! nothing seems too too squishy, thank God!...and the 'Tootle-oo's...ah, a bit sticky but...here, Ag!" She proudly hands Aggie the cola-colored candy stick. "And Archie-pookins, what's your fancy?"
Arch's face suffuses into a pleased smile. "I say, Mary, you-you haven't called me that in years!"
Mary smiles coyly back up at him. "Well, I've rather missed it lately."
"But...our friendship..."
"Shall always be there. But I think I'd like to try us again. D'accord?"
"Oui, oui!" Arch nods vigorously. "Mary dearie."
Mary laughs. "I almost forgot about that! My, weren't we so silly then?"
"As silly as two people in love can ever be."
"Hey, lovebirds, their train's about to leave!" Aggie calls to them.
"Right! So...poison, Arch?" Mary asks.
"What? Oh, yes, candy. I think I'll have a bit of good old Reg's, thank you, even though do I find chewing gum-and chewing gum-a bit uncouth."
"Here you are. And a slightly melty Suisse Bloc for me and... done! Thank you so much for holding this, Arch!" She secures her valise from his arms and affectionately squeezes his hand. "You're the best of all English gentlemen!"
"You're quite welcome, Lady Mary," Arch whispers, blushing a little.
"Could you see any of them though the windows, Ag?"
"No," Aggie sighs. "And there they go."
The three observe the train crawl glacially along the track and then in minutes resume its rapid rhythmic pace as it exits the station at north by northeast, many bystanders waving it a hearty farewell. A glance after its passing at the opposite platform reveals not one soul left behind.
"Well..." Mary murmurs.
And so they await their own train back to London, Arch chewing his bit of gum with as much gentility as he can muster, Mary nibbling wistfully on her imported chocolate and Aggie playing a few doleful, clumsy notes of 'Home On The Range' on her candy of choice.
"Toodle-oo, all," she utters faintly.
_________________________________________________________
Aggie hadn't felt much like supping with Arch and Mary that evening at the tiny, smoky Soho cafe once highly recommended by Diana and Adora, not so much because she wasn't at all famished (a 'Tootle-oo' making for a poor meal) but because the many questions buzzing 'round in her head regarding Teddy and company (but mostly Teddy) kept her from being any sort of agreeable company to her friends, who seemed to vanish into their former roles of giddy sweethearts heavily enough that Aggie's own adopted and embraced role as third wheel seemed no less of a boon at the moment. Also she was quite glad enough not to face one of Diana and Adora's large neo-Fauvist masterworks displayed on the wall behind her chair, and tried mightily not to gag when the saucy garcon informed them that zealous admirers of their work would visually scour, and unfortunately attempt to extract before being roughly ejected from the premises, traces of what they happily detected were strands of pubic hair. And when Mary and Arch dropped her off at her building at Bethnal Green from the taxicab they shared a still amiable but weary Aggie congratulated her friends on their reunion and kissed them both good-night, then waved at the cab as it motored off into the dark towards the golden West End.
Bath, beer(s) and bed was to be the order of what punctuated the end of Aggie's busy day. The first two were easy enough, but she was still up at half past eight, wrapped in her white sateen robe while reclining languidly on her loveseat and nursing her second 'Schmpf'. A small oscillating fan that she had perched on the windowsill for a while circulated the cooler evening air into her living room, but switched it off when it soon became a bit too chilly. Now she gazes at her Victrola perched on a stand near the door and tinnily playing the dulcet jazz of Hugh Altwyn and His Orchestra, a British favorite on days or nights when she's not feeling quite 'hot' enough to listen to her more vigorous American jazz albums, and becomes nearly hypnotized, though not to any point of drowsiness, by the needle weaving back and forth along the grooves of the spinning black disk.
Suddenly there's a knocking at the door.
It's a staccato that's hesitant with the first few raps but, as Aggie attends to it in wonderment (because who in the hell would call on her at this time of the night?), seems to strengthen some after every pause. As she rises she polishes off her 'Schmpf', placing the bottle next to her first on the coffee table and then moves a bit tipsily to the door. She knows she ought to ask who's there but with a dearth of Rippers for vulnerable young women to contend with these days (and besides her weapons of availability a la fireplace pokers are right nearby) feels rather bold tonight, and so swings opens the door to view in full lamplight the visitor standing an inch beyond her threshold, someone who in that moment, she felt ashamed to admit later, put a little thrill of terror in her heart.
Teddy Crewecott.
And Maestro Altwyn lowers his baton.
DB/12.2017
