Chapter 5 – The Conversation
"Steed! Old Man!" Terry bellowed.
"How are you dear chap? Helen, this is Steed, John Steed, of the Ministry. Steed my girlfriend, Helen. This is, Helen's friend, Miss Emma Knight." Terry announced.
"Oh?" Helen said friendly.
Unable to concentrate, I hardly knew Terry had spoke, my mind fixed on one man.
"Yes, I believe we may have met?" Steed stated, with a rye smirk.
"Would you like to sample some of the sumptuous selections at our disposal, Miss er, Knight?" He gestured towards the French Doors.
Here he ushered me through to the conservatory they led to.
On a large table lay a huge, to quote, sumptuous selection, from cuscus, to caviar, shrimp to imported French cheeses. Certainly, Steed had not changed his culinary exploits.
"Fancy caviar with your '71 flute Mrs Peel?" He enquired.
"Delicious. Thank you, Steed." Taking the lightly seasoned caviar, with a sesame seed biscuit base.
Natural, that's the simplest way to describe ourselves. It was like we had never been apart. We had slipped back into our same routine.
"How are you my dear?" Steed enquired, a hint of concern in his voice. Steed felt it too, the endearment in his voice showed.
"I'm fine." I said, remorse showed in my voice, the guilt, the pain I felt was immense.
How long has it been since I've wished for this moment, but all I could do was to play along with the simple conversation.
"How was Paris?" I asked. The only thing which sprung to mind.
"Oh, the same. Trying to stop the soviets destroying the world?" He said with a grimace.
I hadn't noticed, but his left-shoulder was more sloped than usual, and he was carrying it rather uneasily, he also had a slight scar on his eyebrow. He must have been injured, I enquired.
"And you pulled it off, with a scrape or two?" I said coyly.
"Oh, that. The joys of the profession I'm afraid. It's nothing really." He answered, as if he knew I would ask.
"So what do you think of the party Mrs Peel?" Steed asked, whilst he took a sip of his champagne.
I scanned the room, there were of course members of the ministry in the room. Steed's friends, colleagues, and a fair number of MP's in the room, odd, I thought to myself.
"Well, the champagne is delightful, the caviar is salted perfectly. But there are a large number of Politicians at your party Steed, not a mixture I would have thought you would have been associated with?" I questioned Steed at his party guests.
Steed hated Politicians, he grimaced at party elections, was bored with speeches, there must have been a reason behind their invites.
"Oh, them. It's a more of an honorary party, than my own attempts of a celebration." Steed replied with a smile.
"Oh? Special occasion? Knighthood, medal?" I enquired.
"How right you are Mrs Peel." Steed replied with a slight curl to his lips, and smirk that touched me.
"Really?" I replied, rather shocked by my own tone, along with the immense honour I felt knowing he was to receive the greatest honour from the Monarchy.
"In Paris, let's just say, the French appreciate a spy who saves their President from assassination." He responded to my sudden shocking reply.
His eyes twinkled as the spoke, a touch greyer than I remember, also his hair was still dark and thick, with a hint of grey whispers. Steed had not changed much, he may have aged somewhat, but not that his appearance could not handle it. The war, and many years of service had taken its toll on him, but he showed it marvellously well.
"Oh Steed, there you are!" A voice bellowed from the French windows, and its owner the tall, blonde, thin, woman, I saw Steed talking with previously. His colleague, his friend, his girlfriend, too young I thought, but with Steed anything is possible.
"Ah, Purdey. My dear." He responded, shocked at the woman interrupting the conversation, light as it was.
"Trust you to be by the champagne. And in hiding, it's your party to Steed, no need to hide away." She induced, the smile never leaving her face.
"The Champagne is so delightful, it's hard to avoid it." He replied, a smirk touching his lips, whilst taking another sip of the flute.
"Purdey. I'd like you to meet a wonderful, dear friend of mine. Mrs Peel, er, excuse me, Miss Knight." Steed advised, with joy in his voice.
"Mrs Peel?" Purdey repeated, astonished, a touch of wonderment, as if she had just met the Queen.
"Pleased to meet you Purdey." I announced, whilst putting a hand out to greet her. She took it, most delicately, a grip which was uneasy.
"And you, Mrs Peel." She responded.
"The guests will die of thirst my dear. I can see, Lord Robert almost chomping at the bit." Steed told her. Attempting for the girl to leave, it worked.
She took the large metal plate, lifted a dozen champagne flutes from the table, and left without a word spoken.
"A friend of yours Steed?" I questioned, a little hint of query in my voice.
"Purdey? The Ministry's finest agent, since, well…" He said, whilst turning to me.
I blushed, a little turn in my stomach, proved to elaborate my feelings.
"Emma, there you are." It was Helen.
"We were wondering where you had gotten to. At last you are getting into the party spirit. I knew this would cheer you up." She said, with a hint of self satisfaction in her voice.
Steed turned to me, his eyes showed concern, as if he was trying to read me, to search for what had been troubling me. Little did he know, that it was in deed him that was one of the causes of my downheartedness.
"You must see Archie. He works with Terry, in the Ministry, the Forensics and Scientific Laboratory department. I know you two will hit it off, right up your street. Come with me." Helen announced, whilst grabbing my arm in haste. But little did she know that this so called Archie, was the last person I wanted to speak with.
I turned to Steed, he nodded in approval.
----x----