parfaitxamour

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Picture a rural pub. Chances are you’ll be close to how the Jolly Farmer looks. Walls of an indeterminate colour which may have been close to white, but now are nearer to ochre yellow. The lounge dominated by a log fire, a border collie curled fast asleep, small groups of locals outnumbered by men in RAF attire, and more girls than a small village could naturally produce in peacetime.

 A pub, with girls. Alexander felt this situation was something he could cope with, even after a fair quantity of alcohol. Girls had never presented him with a problem, he knew they liked you to be respectful and tell a joke. Swearing and coarseness were off limits.

   ”What’ll you have ? A short, or a pint ?”

Alex craved a pint but Archie had gone for spirits again. His awkwardness at drinking with a superior crippled his choice.

 For Archie, the night had gone exactly as planned. No vomiting or fighting so far, and Alexander was letting him occupy his personal space. Not that such a concept was familiar to either men, but you still knew intuitively when an overlap made you uncomfortable. He didn’t want to make things difficult but he also felt that urge to bond, common to those living in exacting times. This stunning young man had crashed into his life just as the time he needed him most; Like an answer to a prayer.  

 ”Well now…..let’s see who is here that I point out for you.” Archie scanned the punters. “That over there is Toby, bit of a bore but a fantastic worker. The next group has John from Cambridge, Robert from the training team….”

 Alex stopped trying to recall the names and ranks of the whole room. His focus went to the sound of the piano instead, with a semi-circle of jiggling women blanking out the musician from view. One woman brought a tray laden with fresh drinks from the bar, causing the crowd to part.

 ”Who’s that playing ?”  

“The piano ?”

 Archie knew: There was always only ever one man monopolising both the piano and the best women at any social occasion.

 ”That’s Biggles. Everyone knows him. Naturally, all the local men can’t abide him. Terrible flirt. Mind your wallet around him.” And your trousers, he added mentally.

 ”Biggles ? Really ?”

 ”Well that’s not the name his mother christened him with, that would be Carlos. But he hails from London despite the name.” Archie looked bored. He patted his pockets for his smokes.

 ”I say, do you have any gaspers ? I seem to have left mine at the base ?”

Alex shrugged, open handed. “We finished mine in the mess earlier. Do they have them behind the bar ?” 

 ”Maybe, it’s worth a punt.” Archie sidled between tightly packed girls with pencilled on stockings. The brash start of a new tune from the piano captured his ear, propelled on by alcohol, he found himself moving closer to listen.

 The clique around the upright was almost impenetrable through enthusiasm and drunkenness, a drop dead blonde barring his way, the scent of her hair wave making his stomach a little queasy. Then the group hushed and fell back a little, as the pianist began to sing.

 With his too-long hair sticking to his eyelashes, cigarette welded to the corner of his mouth, and the promise of a shockingly good time beaming from his crinkled eyes, Carlos was crooning. The tune was just a popular show song, but there was a special resonance in his interpretation….it was very intimate. 

 As he admitted that in his internal dialogue, he felt sure the confusion was writ across his face for Biggles to witness. Brazenly catching Alex’s eye, the singer winked. Alex’s heart skipped.