Chapter 4

"By the Fireplace"

What had begun as a time of preparation for a job that would decide my future and engulf me in my continued passion of being an artist, had transpired into a random encounter with an amateur songwriter and his own Dalmatian. Still, despite all that had happened, this Roger character was a man with charm and charisma. He didn't seem like all those ruffians that London is filled with at all.

"What a really nice place you got here," I remarked as Roger led me and Perdita into his small flat. "Surely it's no different than mine."

"Enough for a bachelor working his way as a songwriter," replied Roger, taking off his wet hat. "There is a washroom if you want to go and get undressed out of your wet clothes."

"But, isn't it yours?" I wondered. "Won't you be needing it?"

Roger let out a small chuckle at this, for he didn't seem to mind that I would be using his washroom. In fact, there was something about him that I began to notice, almost as if he wanted to see me all wet. But, I had to remember that this was a man that I had just met and anything advancing would be considered improper and downright rude.

"Um, if you insist," I said, shrugging my shoulders as I went up to the washroom, ignoring Roger's supposed feelings for me.

Nevertheless, it felt relieving to be out of my wet clothes, especially the white half-slip that I wore under my skirt since it was sticking to my legs like glue. Roger was kind enough to let me wear one of his shirts and undershorts to cover the private areas of my body. It felt awkward to be wearing man's clothing, but it was the best that I could do given my current situation.

"Here is some tea for you," said Roger, handing me a cup of tea as we sat in front of the fireplace, with our wet discarded clothes and undergarments hanging to dry. "I hope it is to your liking."

"Thank you, Roger," I replied, taking the cup and sipping from it. "I could sure use a cup after being pulled into the water. I hope that I don't catch cold for my interview tomorrow."

"So, you are trying to get a job at the Museum?" asked Roger. "What kind of position are you looking at?"

"A specialist in the art department," I answered. "I've always had a passion for art ever since I lost my father in the war. It helps me relax in a way."

In an effort to show his sympathy, Roger sighed and took in a deep sigh while noticing our dogs curled up on the sofa, their leashes still attached to their collars. I couldn't help but notice Roger was starting to connect with me in a way in the sense that we both were artists in a way. Still, I kept an eagle eye on the matter at hand.

"I know how you feel, Anita," remarked Roger. "I, too, lost my father in the war. He was a fighter pilot for the royal air force. He died defending this city from the Nazis like all the others who dedicated their lives to the empire. Ever since then, well, I took up writing songs to ease the pain of that fateful day."

"Same with me, Roger," I sighed deeply. "I'm not looking to get this job just to make a quick pay. I want to share my passion for art with others and maybe, just maybe, inspire someone to take up the passion that I have."

"Well, then I commend you for doing such a thing," said Roger. "Although, I can't help but feel bad for what happened today in the park. If I can make it up to you in any way, Anita…"

I couldn't help but notice the look in Roger's eyes to show that he wanted more than to simply apologize for what happened in Regents Park. Almost as if he wanted to ask me out on a date, which would have been to my shock and surprise, given the fact that we had just barely met.

"Are you trying to ask me out for dinner?" I remarked. "If you are, then…"

But before I could finish my sentence, I felt a sneeze coming on and I thought that this was a sign that I was coming down with something, although I tried to not embarrass myself. But, I couldn't hold in for very long and let the sneeze come out.

"God bless you," said Roger, handing me a handkerchief to wipe my nose. "I hope you aren't getting sick."

"I'm fine if that is what you are asking," I answered. "But, if you want to ask me out for dinner…"

"Just as a way to make up for what happened today," said Roger, getting up and walking over to the sofa to scratch the back of Pongo's head. "If you want to, we can keep it low key and such. Perhaps, we can get to know each other a little better in something other than wet clothes."

I couldn't help but chuckle slightly at this. For someone that I had just met, Roger had a very dry sense of humor and I have always liked men to have humor. To me, they just, well, added a little bounce to them and Roger was no exception to the rule.

"I think if this your way of apologizing," I chuckled as I got up to grab my clothes from the fireplace. "Then, I accept your invitation, Roger. I'll even wear this tomorrow night if you want to have a proper meeting, almost like an interview, only more casual."

Roger nodded at this and I could tell that I was going to accept his invitation. So, after throwing on still damp wet suit, Perdita and I made our way back our apartment. I knew that while Roger and I were starting to have hints of romance, I still had to remember that we had barely just met and it was under very unusual circumstances.

Furthermore, I had an interview to prepare for and who knew how that was going to turn out…