Against all my better judgement I've started another story. This simply would not go out of my mind and so I had to write it despite the pile of homework in front of me. I promise to see it through to the end, though. Reviews greatly appreciated.
A somber aura of reverence reigned in the elegant, smoke filled London nightclub, out of respect for the news of death its proprietor had just announced on the platform. The orchestra promptly ceased its happy strains of upbeat jazz, and young couples, previously reveling in the steps of their favorite dance, abruptly paused with looks of utter bewilderment and incomprehension.
At a cue from the proprietor, the orchestra broke out into the proud strains of the national anthem; at which the club's illustrious patrons stood up, whether willingly or unwillingly.
When it was at last over , a slightly inebriated young man staggered towards a table where two young women were seated , plopping himself down in the nearest chair. With evident annoyance he glanced at the now empty dance floor, and then at the orchestra members who were leaving for the night. In the corner entered their replacement, an elegantly dressed middle aged woman, who began to softly play a mellow tune on the piano.
"I say... that's not half as good as the band " the tipsy young man said loudly to his table companions, crushing his cigarette brusquely in the ashtray. "And what's-his-name, that old chap, chose the most inconvenient time to pop off. Imagine having to be interrupted in the middle of the Charleston when we were having such a smashing time, just to stand in silence and say a few words in remembrance of an old legend of a man for whom it could not possibly do any good now—" He stopped. From across the table there came a deathly silencing stare of intense contempt.
"I say, Anna…" The man's flippant manner faded. "did I say something wrong?"
"You always say something wrong, Freddy." Said the other young woman at the table, rolling her eyes. "The band would have left soon anyway…. And don't you have any respect for the dead?" she said, downing the contents of her glass with an unstable hand, the bangles on her wrist announcing her every move.
Freddy said nothing but quietly spent some time contemplating Anne, who sat with her head lowered,the golden curls of her bob covering part of her face. Tears that refused to obey her restraints brimmed and began to slightly moisten her thick makeup.
Then slowly, very slowly, a look of enlightenment arose in Freddy's eyes.
"I say, Anna." He began hesitantly. "Your last name… your real last name, that is. Are you…? You never told us…"
"And what would it matter to you if I was, Freddy? To you he was just some old useless legend of a man. What earthly difference does it make to you, who only care about the next dance or drink?" Her blue eyes burned with indignation.
"So you are, then. You never told us." He murmured again. "I didn't know…. Truly… I am sorry."
Her eyes softened after a while as she stared at him.
"Of course you didn't know. And if I didn't know him, fool that I am, I would have acted just as you had. Not fair… nor logical of me to be angry with you...we are no different, except for that one advantage."
The other young woman looked up quickly, finally realizing exactly what had transpired.
"Ah…really, Anna? How thrilling. I never quite made the connection with your name and all, and with him and your father...do tell us what it was like." She said with a beckoning sweep of her jingling arms.
Anna looked at her friend amusedly.
"Far different from all this…" They stared at her incomprehensively. She merely shrugged and smiled and surveyed her surroundings.
And what would he have said, had he a chance to see her again, and to know where she was right now and what she was doing with her life? They would not be words of approval to be sure. Words of disappointment, no doubt, and a lecture on the virtues of objectivity and cold-blooded discipline and rationalism .
But at this moment, she knew she would give anything, nearly anything, to hear one of those lectures again, from that tall, formidable but reassuring figure, dressed in gray tweed that matched the austerity of his eyes.,