Salad Days

At last, Alphonse arrived, fashionably late in the usual conspicuous manner that he had come to be known for. The sleek Bentley pulled up slowly in front of the house, and even the servants couldn’t help but raise their eyebrows, as he cavorted out of the back, his impeccable cream suit offset by an outrageous looking pink dyed fur. If PETA had anything to say about that, he had clearly not gotten the memo.

The front doors to the foyer swung wide open with a great crash, and he strode in elegantly and confidently.

‘Smashing party. Someone lead me to the nearest glass of champagne!’ He said to no one in particular.

From above, Rupert, who was currently draped on a banister, spectated the beginnings of the sordid affair that was about to unravel in front of them.

‘There he goes again, damn him. I really must put a stop to this.’

Alphonse was already toasting a bemused crowd of gentlemen and ladies, pattering on about his days in the armed forces.

‘And the only thing more vicious than that drill sergeant was the cut of those appalling green trousers. Thank goodness those 4 years passed by quickly. But one thing I will say, I looked a damn sight sharper when it was all said and done. 200 push ups a day will do that to a fellow. Rupert!’

Rupert had gone down into the foyer, and was now standing in the ring of partygoers that Alphonse was a part of.

‘I see your as effervescent as ever, Alphonse.’

Alphonse was radiant. ‘Why yes, thank you. And I see you are being snarky again, do put it off it doesn’t suit you.’

Rupert rolled his eyes and took a sip of his champagne.

Someone spoke up. ‘Rupert old boy, where have you been? We were just hearing about your friend Alphonse’s army days.’

‘Did he tell you about the night he got stuffed into a sack and pushed down the laundry chute.’ Droned Rupert disinterestedly.

‘Rupert you beast.’ Snapped Alphonse.

A waiter minced past them nearby, but was swiftly accosted, as they refreshed their glasses. From all around the buzz of conversation filled the room.

Rupert surveyed his lively friends’ clothes. ‘That fur is simply extraordinary. Imagine walking into old Edwards party, like a clown escaped from a circus. It simply will not do. Not at all.’

Alphonse laughed a little too loudly. ‘Well, that tweed suit of yours is so conservative, not even Boris Johnson would be caught dead wearing it.’

Just then, a well-dressed lady walked up to the circle, and joined them.

‘Rupert, Alphonse, how good it is to see you both again.’

Alphonse recognized her as lady Margaret, and made a small bow.

‘Margaret you’re looking as ravishing as ever, we were all having a good time until Rupert rained on our parade.’

Rupert was unfazed. ‘Lady Margaret, it’s good to see you hearty and hale and in good spirits. Pay Alphonse no mind…’

Alphonse sniffed. ‘I can endure a great many things, but being ignored is not one of them. Why, if that were to happen, then you would all have done yourselves a great disservice. And surely you wouldn’t want to be stuck here listening to Rupert drone on about his 3 marriages, or his overlong appointment as dean of the Cambridge University.’

Rupert raised an eyebrow. ‘Well perhaps hearing Alphonse regale us with tales of his exploits around town at insalubrious hours of the night would be asking too much of everyone. An affront to taste and decency.’

‘Decency was never my cup of tea.’ Said Alphonse, sipping his champagne.

Lady Margaret laughed. ‘Why you two must be simply inseparable. What a cause for merriment it is to hear the two of you joking good naturedly like old friends!’

Rupert rolled his eyes again. ‘So, tell us Lady Margaret, what brings you to this occasion?

Alphonse spoke quickly. ‘Yes, out with it. What’s the latest gossip?’

Margaret lowered her voice confidentially. ‘Well, you may not believe this, but there’s talk that the Earl of Longfellow will leave his fortune to his daughter, leaving the son to fend for himself!’

‘Well Harry certainly has been fending for himself.’ Said Alphonse incredulously. ‘He left 3 young ladies high and dry, and there’s talk that he’s set his sights on the duchess, Emma Worthington.’

Rupert shook his head. ‘Scandal! What else can the Earl do with a son like that.’

‘At least he didn’t marry them.’ Quipped Alphonse.

Margaret was at that moment having her glass refilled, and took a moment to gaze upon the two of them. ‘I must say, I don’t know how I could endure a stuffy party like this without the two of you. Rupert, you must tell me the story again. How did you meet Alphonse.’

Rupert sighed. ‘Why it’s been so long I can hardly remember, I suppose it was at a party not unlike this. Alphonse had been brought along by some other young gentlemen I can’t quite remember the name of. He’d made such an impression on Lord Wembley, that there was talk of a fight breaking out that very night. Someone had to step in, so I defused things, and I suppose as a thank you for all my trouble, I couldn’t shake Alphonse for the rest of the party.’

Alphonse feigned a hurt look. ‘Why Rupert, I believe it was you who wouldn’t let me go. Perhaps you knew what a crashing bore you would have made of yourself if it wasn’t for my company.’

‘Undoubtedly.’ Said Rupert flatly.

Margaret looked at the two of them standing side by side. For all their bluster and verbal sparring, it was obvious that the two of them were playing off each other. Why, she could hardly picture one without the other. They needed each other. Taking another sip of champagne, she smiled ever so slightly. She was fond of them both, and no party was worth attending unless the two of them were on the list. She allowed herself to relax, feeling waves of tension built up over the week melt away. It was going to be a good night.