Two Loves

Chapter 8

(don't start the song yet.)

CYMBELINE

I cannot take my eyes off Ada otherwise, too, but this time, her appearance really hits me. Not only because she looks, of course, beautiful. But also because she is wearing a silver blue dress. A large hat with white and blue feathers. And a goddamn umbrella.

She approaches me with a glowing smile, her green eyes shining like green sapphires through the fine haired ostrich feathers.

"Oh Cymbeline! I am so sorry that I am late" she starts, hugging me quickly, "But my mother was still busy sorting out her invitations with me - and complaining that I am causing calamities as always, and then my sister, well, my older sister, I have three, you know, she said that she needs the cab, so I had to search myself for one and - I am sorry, dear, are you alright?"

I stutter, a bit aghast at her outburst of words, and then mumble "It's you - You are the Pavement Penthesilea!"

She blinks confused. "I am sorry?"

"I mean, you - you were the one who beat up a man on Trafalgar Square!"

Now her look grows irritated. She takes a notch back, but her hands still touch my upper arms. "Indeed", she says, hesitating, "but how do you know? Did you follow me around or what?"

"No - I wrote an article about you. You are in the newspapers! And I was even upset because I could not interview that woman. If only I had known that it was you!"

"I am in the what?!" When she throws her head back, the feathers brush over my nose and make me sneeze.

"You put me in the newspaper?!"

I shrug helplessly. "Yes, I thought that it was definitely a story worth telling - I am sorry, I did not know that you would not want it."

"Are you kidding?!" She laughs and gives me a nudge. "I love you for it! I just - I never thought that anyone would print that."

Oh damn, did she just say that she loves me?

"Why? A woman showing signs of autonomy and self-confidence is so rare in this time that it will surely cause a scandal."

Her lips turn to a small pout.

"You are always so cynical, Cymbeline. Smalltalk never has any link to reality and nevertheless, you make yourself a walking commentary on society."

"Satire is the only reliable mirror for reality."

"And you only speak in paradoxes."

"Of course. They are the only things that make sense. Mind you?"

With a wink at her eye-rolling, I offer her my arm and guide her into the park.

Funny how a couple of freely made up sentences I don't believe in can make my self-confidence rise from the scratch to the top again.

The park is only little visited today. An old man sits on a bench, smoking his pipe, a nanny with two little children is just packing the picnic blankets together. The sun is slowly sinking like a withering rose as we walk along the avenue.

"So", I say after a second, "Would you be interested in telling your story for our interested readers? I am sure that they would be very much pleased."

Ada tilts her head a little. "I am unsure. Only if you promise me that you will not write a scandal out of it. How many men get beaten up by other men every day? My gender is not a scandal."

"Do I look as if I would do something like that?"

"No, my dear. And I trust you. But promise me that you will not do it now. I want to feel as if a charming woman wants to spent time with me, not like a business appointment."