47 Minutes

The summer drew to a close, college had started again and Emily was thrilled. Not so much because of the classes (which she enjoyed), but because of the fact that the campuses at the east coast were filled with life again. So were the bars, cafés and dance halls and therefore it was much easier to snatch dates. Having remodelled her dating system, Emily didn't miss a single opportunity to date. Actually she wasn't doing anything but dating in between the classes. The bigger the range of men, she thought, the higher the chances to find the right one - although she hadn't succeeded so far.

"Sweetie", Emily exclaimed while opening the door. "I need you to do me a favour", she hastily threw her purse onto their new British commode and hung her blazer onto the dearly bought antique French coat rack. "I won't be able to pick up my laundry from the dry-cleaning in between coffee with Gerald and theatre with Paul, but I need it, if I don't want to have dinner with Ernest naked."

"Who's Paul?", Melinda wrinkled her forehead and only now Emily realized that they were having a guest.

"A student of the University of Northampton", she explained. "Hello", she greeted the tall blonde sitting on their leather couch.

"Hi, I'm Pennilyn Lott", she answered with a smile. "How do you do?"

"Just like one of the Bennet sisters", Emily answered distracted and faced her flatmate again. "Could you pick up my laundry, please?"

"Of course", Melinda agreed, biting her tongue.

"Thank you", she smiled weakly. "And please make sure they're ironed orderly. The last time those incapable temps ironed folds into my dresses instead of ironing them out, wherefore I'm paying them after all."

"I'll only pay them, if the ironing is perfect", Melinda calmed Emily.

"Good", she nodded and walked back to her purse, hauling out some dollar bills. "The pick-up tickets are hanging at the pin board in the kitchen. And here's some money", she handed Melinda the bills.

"Alright", her friend took them. "I wanted to show Pennilyn some good shops anyways."

"Sounds nice."

"Oh yes, I'm really looking forward to it", Pennilyn nodded and tried to bring a return to the conversation. "We've already -"

"I'd love to chat with you, but I'm in a hurry. Sorry", Emily interrupted her and vanished in her room to change for her date.

"She seems to be nice", Pennilyn remarked, despite she had another impression. "And stressed", she therefore couldn't help to add.

"Well", Melinda raised her brows. Emily was really stressed. Of course she was as she baited from one date to the next. First Melinda had thought it was her way to handle the ominous break-up with Robert, the abasement of being left she must feel. But instead of slowing down and opening up after some time, it had gotten worse. Her flatmate was more incommunicative than ever and sometimes her strange behaviour annoyed Melinda like hell. "Will you excuse me for a second, please?", she got up and followed Emily into her room.

"Who's Paul?", she asked again after she had closed the door.

"I already told you", her friend huddled on a new dress. "A student of the local university. I just met him in the city and he asked me out."

"So you're picking your dates up off the streets, now", she folded her arms.

"I did not pick him up off the street. I meet him in the line at library, when I submitted some overdue books. They really should hire more personnel, I waited almost twenty minutes", she hastily got into some shoes and walked to her dressing table. "Oh - and when it was finally my turn that incompetent teenager at the counter needed another five minutes to search out my card and put the stamp on it. You should've seen her face; she peered like she was doing an open heart surgery. As if it's a big deal to take a stamp and put it onto a record card. Everyone could do that, even a blind dog with three legs", Emily held up two different pairs of earrings. "Which one?"

"Diamonds are a girl's best friend."

"One really should decorate the library for finding and hiring the only being on earth who isn't able to perform that act fast", Emily donned her diamond earrings. "And silent. The walls of the building trembled when she rubber-stamped, I swear, and I was seriously worried she'd cut herself a finger off with that thing", she took a step back and checked herself in the mirror. "How do I look?"

"You look great, Em", Melinda said. "It's just -", she stopped and pressed her lips.

"What is it?", she looked down. "The shoes. They don't fit, do they?", she hasted back to her shoe bin.

"The shoes are just fine. However, I doubt that you're fine", she eventually overcame her inhibitions.

"I'm fine."

Doubtfully Melinda pursed her lips. "Are you sure?"

"Of course", she laughed nervously. "Why shouldn't I be?"

"Three dates a day?"

"And?", Emily put on her blank face, a brief glint of her dark eyes was the only movement.

"Three dates, Emily. Three. That's insane."

"It is not", she disagreed and picked out new shoes. "It's necessary."

"Necessary for what?"

"To find a man. A husband. Otherwise I'll end up in the library, accepting and sorting books like my new spectacled friend Jane The Snail Doe - and heaven knows I'd kill myself after one hour, despite it'd do a marvellous job."

"Still, I think you should slow down."

"I have no time to slow down."

"I know how it feels, Emily. Gosh, after all I'm the queen of the heart-broken and left women", Melinda eventually stopped the havering. She had to, if she wanted to get anywhere as Emily refused to respond to her attempts to go about the actual subject slowly. "But as long as you're still regretting Robert, your mind isn't -."

Emily frowned. "As much as I'd love to continue this talk, I've to hurry now", she cut her of.

"You don't have to hurry", Melinda staid stubborn. "You even don't have to go. Not to the date with Gerald, not to the ones with Paul and whatever the name of the third one was, because you'll never see them again afterwards anyhow."

"Where would you know from?", she asked loud, eventually loosing her containment.

"I've been watching this for two months now, Emily. I know it. You meet them, you date them, you send them into the desert."

"Until I find someone, I won't send into the desert. And to find that someone, I have to hurry now and have coffee with Gerald, because he just might be that one. End of the discussion", Emily stated with clenched teeth and ditched Melinda.

A low rumble woke Melinda up. With a dozy blink she checked her alarm clock that showed 11:13 pm. First she dropped back onto her pillow, but when she heard further rumblings in the living room, she decided to check on Emily and got up.

"Hey there", she greeted Emily with a tired smile, who was sitting on the couch nonchalantly, her legs on the coffee table, a glass of vodka in her hand.

"Hey", she toasted towards Melinda. "Did I wake you up?"

"Nah", she denied and sat next to her. "How did it go?"

"It was nice."

"Nice?"

"Nice."

"No three times charm?"

"No", she sipped at her drink. "But tomorrow's a new day."

"Skip tomorrow's date."

Emily rolled her eyes. "I already told you this afternoon that I -"

"And I got you", Melinda interrupted her. "However, we've an invitation for tomorrow evening."

"From whom?", she stared into her glass, circulating the pellucid liquid in it.

"Pennilyn."

"Pennilyn?"

"Pennilyn Lott."

"Should I know her?"

"You met her this midday."

"I did?", she wrinkled her forehead. "Oh!", she finally exclaimed and averted her gaze from the vodka. "Yes. The tanned, blonde beanpole on our couch. I remember her."

"Well, the beanpole invited us to her housewarming party. She has a lovely apartment downtown."

"Why should she invite me? I don't know her."

"She knows me."

"Why do you know her?"

"I'm her tutor."

"Sweet Sweetie", she smiled and the friends exchanged a glance. "Why anyone would want to be a tutor is beyond me however", she continued. "Those clouded freshmen are a scourge. Just today I ran into two giggling girls in front of "The Walking Man" on the museum court, who couldn't get over the fact that he - I quote - has no willy", she rolled her eyes with a snidely snort, emptied her glass and got up. "If that's the only idea Rodin's work is giving them, I really feel gloomy about the future of the American educated class", she poured herself another vodka. "Want one, too?"

"I already brushed my teeth."

"Who stops you from brushing them again?"

"My worries about the future of the American educated class."

"Don't worry, you have no stake on it anyways", she poured a second glass with her words.

"As I'm a tutor, I'm at least having a stake on some of those clouded freshmen."

Emily handed Melinda her drink. "Tell them a missing willy doesn't detract from Rodin's brilliance. That man was a genius. I think I spent two days in the Musée Rodin when I was in Paris for the first time", another gulp of vodka.

"I love that Camille Claudel helped him to create some of his works", Melinda smiled moonily. "They made them together and later no one could tell who hew which part of a sculpture. The perfect symbiosis."

"Symbiosis", once more Emily snorted, despite she felt it was the perfect description for the marrow of a good marriage. "You're letting out the end, Sweetie. How he let her down. How she ended up in psychiatry, alone and forgotten."

"Maybe", she shrugged her shoulders. "It's more romantic this way."

"It's a concealment of facts."

"Let me have my sentimentalities."

"I'll never understand your tendency to romanticize things", Emily took another sip. "How can you forget the negative the moment it happens? You're walking through life as if it was a big and never ending party with friends and fun only."

"Talking of big parties and friends", Melinda said, not affected by Emily's fair comment at all. "Come to that party with me", she put her untouched glass onto the coffee table and got up. "Let yourself have a break", she touched Emily's back while she headed towards her room.

"And who'll find me a Rodin?", she asked dryly.

"Didn't you just find fault that he never married Camille?"

"And hence she ended up in psychiatry", Emily replied and toasted to their coat rack. "Here's to you, bright future of mine", she emptied her glass. "Alright", she agreed, stuck in a thick and gooey sludge made of vodka and self-pity, weariness and resignation. "I'll accompany you."

After Melinda had vanished in her room Emily slowly got up. First she swilled the vodka out the glasses, then she showered away the smells of the day and dates from her body. Unfortunately, she thought tired while she collapsed into her bed and pulled the blanket over her head, she couldn't wash away her tedious feelings.

Pennilyn Lott's apartment lay in a busy street full of restaurants, pubs and shops that gave one the impression to be at the beat of the city and life. The bustle was the main reason she had decided to move into it, a slight copy of Florence and New York. Due to the alarums and excursions until midnight, the rent even was ludicrously low for an apartment like that. It had a favourable layout and despite there were many guests at the party it wasn't too crowded, but the people were scattered in the kitchen, the living room and the big balcony facing the yard. Still, Richard Gilmore would've preferred it to spend the evening alone with his fiancée or at least at a party where he would've been able to socialize with possible business partners. It was funny, he realized, some months ago such parties had been an important part of his life and now he suddenly felt too adult for them. Whereas he wouldn't have minded to spend an enjoyable evening with intelligent people. Talks about interesting topics at least would've been a reasonable distraction. Due to Pennilyn's stay abroad they hadn't a common circle of friends however and he hardly knew anybody. Moreover, most of the guests were fellow students of Lynnie and hence females, the few guys were mostly younger and they all talked about university, insider discussions he had nothing to contribute to. Boredom tempted Richard to leave the party, something he of course couldn't do as his fiancée was the host. Therefore, he stood in front of a window, a glass of Champagne in his hand and stared at the busy street below, observing the passing people, those who entered and left the cater-cornered Greek restaurant, the probably Pakistani woman who sat at her sewing-machine in the dimly lit alterations shop next to it and a couple of old men who sat in front of a pub, playing cards and drinking beer, slapping their thighs whenever they laughed. Every now and then a cab would stop in front of the house, bringing new guests, carrying flowers or wrapped bottles as hostess gift.

Just now another cab stopped and two young women got out. It took Richard a second to realize who they were, another one to note that Emily looked even better than within his recollection. She wore a high-necked, dark green dress that only gave sight to the lower parts of her shanks and something was different with her hair. It was shorter, he asserted after some seconds of pondering, the dark curls stopped at her shoulders, besides she seemed to have lost some weight, at least her cheeks looked narrower as far as he could tell from the distance. Melinda said something to Emily and they looked up, which involuntary caused Richard to take three steps back and he felt blood surging to his face. What to do, he asked himself, how to act. How to get rid of the nervousness he suddenly felt. He took a sip at his champagne, although he didn't like the sweet and gluey beverage. Therefore he decided to get a drinkable drink first, a nice Scotch or Whiskey.

Richard plied with a bottle of Royal Lochnagar and some ice tubes, when he felt a hand on his back and turned around.

"Darling", Pennilyn exclaimed happily. "I want you to meet my tutor Melinda McGee and her flatmate Emily Johnson", she introduced the two women standing next to her. "Melinda, Emily, my wonderful fiancé Richard Gilmore."

"Hello", Richard stated politely and offered Melinda his hand. "Pennilyn already told me a lot about you."

"Did she?", Melinda smiled, having a hard time to hide her astonishment upon the identity of Pennilyn's fiancé.

"Yes", he nodded, a brief glance at Emily. "It's a pleasure to meet you finally."

"It is", Emily bit her tongue as he didn't offer her his hand as well. Maybe he didn't like her, but that wasn't a reason to act so impolite and even pretend they never met before. Actually, she was in the mood to tell Pennilyn that they actually did not only know each other but had been dating. But then there had been something in Richard's eyes during the glance that had told her to bite her tongue.

"Scotch anyone?", Richard asked cheerily just to say something and held up his glass.

"I could take a drink", Emily answered as friendly as possibly without looking at him, but stared at a painting behind him. "I would prefer something like gin or vodka, however."

"I've a nice bottle of Beefeater here", he suggested.

"Sounds perfect."

"Would you like to have some tonic or lime juice with it?"

"No, thank you", she denied and asked herself, how long she had to stay in order to make a polite leaving.

Richard asked himself the same. "Ice or soda?", he asked her.

"No, really", she shook her head. "Just a glass of pure gin." Two hours, she decided, one and a half if she told Pennilyn she had to meet her mother early the next morning. One, if she excused herself with a headache. As there really was an unpleasant knock behind her temples, it even wouldn't be that much of a lie.

"Here you go", Richard gave her the glass. Their fingers touched and an irritated Emily eventually looked at him as he held the touch longer than necessary. "Melinda?", he hastily faced Pennilyn's tutor to avoid the eye contact he actually had wanted to catch.

"I take a gin, too", she said. "Gin and vermouth."

"A Martini it is", Richard mixed the drink, while Emily excused herself to greet a friend she had spotted in the party and Pennilyn and Melinda started to talk about a course.

"She's really nice", Richard told Pennilyn after Melinda had vanished in the crowd as well.

"Of course she is, I told you so."

"Her flatmate, Emily, she is -", Richard stopped and gave himself a scolding for the stupid attempt to talk about her with Pennilyn.

"Strange?", his fiancée finished his sentence. "Tell me about it. I really don't understand why a pleasant and nice person like Melinda is friends with a cold, arrogant and demanding person like her. I swear, the first time I met her she treated Melinda like she was her maid and me like I was air. And so did she now. She could've at least joined our conversation out of politeness instead of walking away as soon as she had her drink."

"Why did you even invite her, if you like her so less?", he asked carefully.

"To accommodate Melinda", she shrugged her shoulders. "Apparently Emily was just left by her long time boyfriend and Melinda thought she could need some distraction", Pennilyn sipped at her champagne. "If you ask me - I totally understand why he left her and with all the dates she's having, she has distraction enough."

"Now, now", feeling slightly uncomfortable, Richard patted her back. "Since when are you so viperish anyway?"

"I'm not viperish", she disagreed sulking and removed his arm from her waist and back. "I simply can't stand people who think they're cut above the rest. I never could and you know that."

"Alright", he calmed her. "I'm sorry. This aggressive talk of yours just surprised me."

"Your sophistry does the same to me."

He rolled his eyes, which annoyed Pennilyn even more. "Are you seriously trying to start a fight with me?", he asked.

"I'm trying to enjoy this party with you", she hissed.

"Fine."

"Yes", she looked at him with eyes darkened by anger. "Fine", she agreed and headed towards the kitchen.

Richard sighed and shook his head, the insignificant discussions Pennilyn and he had twice a day tired him. Sure, it got better, but sometimes they were like strangers who had to find out again how to act and react in the presence of the other best. They didn't have these problems when they had been together first and sometimes he couldn't help to regret the airy time of being freshly in love. May it be a coincidence or not, with that thought he found himself looking at Emily, who stood in a chatting group of students, her glass pressed to her chest, staring into space. A real idiot, he found himself thinking, to turn down Emily. This Robert must've lost his marbles. You must've lost your marbles, he told himself angrily, staring at her like that, so much about she and having no effect on you. Richard turned away and walked back to the window, where he continued to look at the street and its people.

Emily counted the minutes until she would be able to leave this place and party. She didn't know why, but seeing Richard again had knocked her for a loop, the fact that he was engaged even more. Engaged to a woman he could hardly know, after all Pennilyn just came back from a stay abroad in Europe. He seemed to be a man of fast decisions. Something she actually appreciated. But then it was really lightheaded to decide to marry a person he couldn't know longer than two or three months. Well, if he had already known her while they had been dating, Emily at least had an explanation for the fact that he had no interest in her. Of course he hadn't as he had been in love with the beanpole. Stupid beanpole with a horrible taste. The whole apartment looked like she had bought it out of a catalogue for modern design. Emily loathed the plastic-design which lately came into vogue. It was cold, uncomfortable and hurt in the eyes, just like Pennilyn's orange pantsuit offended the eye. Sure, the cut flattered her slim and tall body, she almost could understand why Richard found her attractive - still the colour. He really must be colour-blind. And bored, she added, since he was staring out of the window for an eternity now. For a second she was tempted to walk over to him, but of course she didn't. Rather she went to Pennilyn and excused herself with a headache. Maybe the hour wasn't up, still she couldn't stand it here any longer.

He saw how Emily left the house. He saw how she was standing in front of it, her arms folded around her body. He wondered why she stood there until it eventually crossed his mind that she probably was waiting for a cab. Dangerous, he thought, it was getting dark after all. Before he had finished the thought, he found himself leaving the apartment and walking down the stairs.

"You're leaving early", he said and she startled around.

"Not that it is any of your business, but I have a headache", she answered coldly and turned around again.

"Oh", he nodded and stood next to her, not close, still close enough to smell her perfume thanks to the low fall wind. "I'm sorry", he said after some minutes of silence.

"I beg your pardon?", she looked at him with confusion.

"The thing with Robert", he explained.

"That is none of your business either."

"Alright", he held up his hands and took a step back. "I'm not going to annoy you longer".

"Eventually", she fizzed.

"Why are you so belligerent? After all I just wanted to express my condolence."

"No one died, Richard."

"Well - no. Still I felt it would be only polite to express my sympathy to you."

"Why would you want to do that?"

"Because you were abandoned and hence must feel bad."

"I'm not feeling bad", she exclaimed angrily. "I'm fine. So why is everybody assuming I am feeling horrible? And why the hell does everybody think Robert left me?", she burst. "He didn't. I did it. I left him, okay?"

"You left him?", he asked confused while a cab stopped in front of them.

"Yes", she stated with a firm voice and nod. "And now excuse me please, my head is killing me", she got into the car and closed the door before Richard had the chance to ask her about the whereabouts of her drop-a-name-statement.

To be continued

ATN: Thanks, thanks, thanks for all the kind and adorable reviews, I love that they're so detailed - it's really appreciated, especially as Mary found a stupid and inexcusable fault in the timeline: Yes, Emily was born in 1944. It wasn't mentioned, yet, but in early January. Due to my timeline, we're in summer/fall 1963, now - and Mary totally got me, LOL. Mathematics never has been my strong point and so - despite my nice list/family tree - I totally messed up. In order to deal with that and put it back to a chronicle and logical line with my fic and the show (Due to my fic Richard is one year older than Emily, due the show he was born in January 1943 ("That'll do pig", although there isn't a real continuity in the R/E timeline, I decided to stuck with that) - I changed "her purse after her future husband, 1963" in Chapter 1 into 1964 as Emily is 20 right now. Thanks for the hint and I'm really sorry!

Thanks to Mel for encouraging me to post this chapter and her great job as beta! You're more than appreciated, you're indispensable. Hugs and flowers and apple martinis!