The Necklace - The Dusky Club, June 1962 by Linda S Rice (highly illogical behavior txt) 📕

with...Oh my God...my own silly daydream that I don’t even really care about anymore...my opportunity to know the guy I used to dream about when I was what? Fourteen years old?”

Ian put both of his elbows on the table and tilted his head at her. “Cuppa after the last set, Luv?” he asked.

“Cup of what?” she inquired.

“Whatever you like...tea...coffee...or me...”

She blushed furiously. This was ridiculous! What a trite and stupid pick up line to boot!

“How did I come to be here like this?” she asked herself. Where was Susan? Should she ask? She was supposed to be one of the history students, wasn’t she? She couldn’t remember. She hadn’t paid that much attention to what Susan had told James. Oh geez! She needed to remember!

“You?” she muttered under her breath.

“Well, just think about it, Luv,” he said as he walked back up to the front of the club and slipped his guitar strap back over his shoulder, and winked at her.

Winking...what was it that Susan was saying about winking…

Ian started singing, looking at her with an inviting smile on his face.

“I saw her sitting on the barstool...

With a yellow ribbon in her ponytail...”

“Oh my God!” she thought,” her instinctively passionate nature making her feel warm all over. “I came here to rescue Susan, but I think I’m going to be the one who needs rescuing!”

As James began to kiss her, Susan pushed him away and said, “Now look here, sir, I have dinner on the stove and don’t want to be distracted and burn everything. Go twiddle at the piano some more and entertain me.”

He reluctantly let her go, then went over and sat down at the piano.

“Any special requests?”

“Whatever you want. We’ve got about twenty minutes until everything will be ready,” she said, stirring the chicken again, cutting lettuce for the salad, and slicing up the rest of the French bread to make garlic toast.

When she was done, she walked over to a cabinet next to the piano.

“What’s this?” she asked, opening the top of the cabinet to reveal a record player. “Oh, are there any records?”

“I think there’s some underneath in the cabinet.”

She bent over and opened the cabinet doors. “Oh, look! There’s lots of records here! Let’s see what she has...”

He leaned over and looked into the cabinet with her.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, “Here’s one of my favorites...”Sleeping Beauty” by Tchaikovsky. Have you ever heard the “Sleeping Beauty Waltz?”

“No. So, why don’t you play it then?”

“I can dance for you if you like. I love this music!”

“Ah, are you going to be my personal little ballerina then? Go ahead and put it on and dance for me.”

“First, I need to warm up. You can play me some plie music...slow...an adagio...4/4 measure...four sets of sixteen counts. Think you can do that?”

“Actually, my dad played music for a dance studio once. When he was sick one time, I had to take his place. I hated it.”

“You won’t play plies for me?

“Of course, I’ll play plies for you. How’s this?”

He started to play.

“Wait, wait...let me grab a kitchen chair...you need a four-count intro...”

She kicked off her sandals, dragged a kitchen chair near the piano, and stood in first position, arms in low fifth.

“Okay, go ahead,” she said.

At the intro, she placed her left hand gracefully on the back of the chair and moved her right arm in a port de bras, and began. Demi, demi, grand plie, port de bras forward, backbend, move into second position. She moved with poise, her eyes half-closed, totally enveloped in the music as he played for her.

He glanced over at her appreciatively, thinking how fluid her movements were. His heart tightened in his chest. What could be more beautiful than watching this?

He continued playing, and she turned to put her other hand on the chair, back in first position. She repeated the movements on the other side, ending in a releve (up on the balls of her feet) in a tight fifth with both arms overhead.

He stared at her silently.

She took the Sleeping Beauty record out of the sleeve, put it on the record player, turned it on, and placed the needle on the record.

“Okay, watch...” she said, as the entre to the waltz encompassed the room.

Balance forward, balance back, repeat, soutnou turn. The skirt of the silky green dress swirled outward as she turned. She started moving around the room to the music, totally taken over by the melody.

As the music began to repeat itself, she began to sing...”

I love you…

You danced with me once upon a dream…

When I saw you…the sparks in your eyes were so familiar to me…

So I’m sure it’s true…that first love is rarely what it seems…

But now I’m with you…

I know what is true…

You’ll hold me again…just as you did then…

Upon a dream…”

She kept moving, turning, spinning, waltzing until the music ended, and she placed her hand on his shoulder in a ponche arabesque.

Memories of being in the Sleeping Beauty Castle when she was sixteen years old and had encountered an older James rushed through her veins. She remembered singing the same “Once Upon a Dream” song at his insistence and then running away when he proposed they leave Disneyland together. She shivered at the memory.

James was speechless. He pulled her onto his lap on the piano bench and held her close. “That was so lovely,” he whispered in her ear, still astounded.

She kissed his cheek, extracted herself from his arms, and jumped up, dragging the chair back into the kitchen with her.

“Time for dinner, sweetheart,” she said.

If Lynn was one thing, she was practical. As Ian sang and threw inviting looks in her direction, she evaluated the situation. Here she was living out a crazy fantasy she wasn’t even sure she wanted to be in. She had four nights to live it. Unlike Susan, who was like a scared little kitten, Lynn always had her two feet planted firmly on the ground. She knew a wager had been made about her and Ian, just like a bet had been made on Susan.

“So what,” she thought, being pragmatic. If she decided to go for it, she didn’t think she’d have to fool around with that virgin thing either. She was pretty sure the preacher’s son had taken care of that; she just didn’t remember exactly when.

The set ended, and Ian came back over to her table.

“So, do we have a date then?” He drawled.

“Mmmmm...I suppose so,” she responded coyly. “Any particular place you have in mind?”

“Your hotel room?”

“Well, that’s pretty darn blunt!”

“No reason to beat around the bush, is there? I find you very attractive...much more attractive than your American friend...I assume you’re a friend of the other American bird who came in here Friday night and made James all crazy.”

“Oh! That American girl...Susan...Yes, I’m her best friend. I came here to rescue her...I mean, join her. We’re here for a history tour, I think...I mean, yes, we are here for a history tour.”

“So, are all the students just popping in here one at a time then? Your friend told James that everybody else was to join up on Friday.”

“Um, well, they’re meeting us in London on Friday...the rest of them, I mean...just a little change in plans. I decided to pop in early, as you said, because I had a feeling Susan was getting herself into trouble.”

“With James, you mean?”

“Um, yeah, with James. She’s a virgin, you know…never been with a guy before…” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

Ian raised his eyebrows. “Well, I doubt she is any longer.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about. It’s something she wanted to save for…oh, never mind! Do you happen to know where she is? When I went to her hotel room, there was no sign of her, and the front desk said they hadn’t seen her since yesterday morning. She had them pack a picnic basket, which I thought was a little odd.”

“No idea where she is, but must be with James, of course. So, about our date?”

“Can we start a little slower, please? I’m not saying ‘no’ to the hotel room for some time later, but I’m not a loose girl, you know. I’m a serious student of history.” She tried to keep a straight face.

“Are you then? Tell me something historic.”

She laughed out loud.

“Go back up on stage and play me a song,” she said. “Something to win a lady over to your wicked ways.”

“I’ll do my best,” he said, pushing away from the table and going back on stage.

“Young girl...sweet girl...

Got my head in a whirl...

Can’t get you out of my heart...”

Just as James and Susan were finishing dinner, the telephone in the lounge rang. James didn’t make a move to answer it.

“Don’t you think you should answer?” she asked. “It could be your dad or an important call for your aunt.”

James hesitated just a second, then got up and went into the other room to answer the phone. He made it on the fifth ring. He didn’t seem very anxious to talk to his dad if that was who was calling.

“Hallo.”

“Hello, James? This is Dad.”

“Yeah, Dad.”

“So sorry to disturb you, but Derek called a bit ago and said it was important to get a hold of you. Seems some bloke named Ryan Graystein wants to hear you and the boys play tomorrow morning for an hour or so at some recording studio down in South Brighton. Might be an opportunity, you know. It sounds like it’s an audition for making a record.”

“Ryan Graystein? Tomorrow morning?”

“That’s what Derek said. He wanted to make sure you’d be there. 10:00 on South Audley Road.”

“I’ll be there, but say Dad, can I drop off Susan to stay with you while I’m there? It’s right on the way to South Brighton, and her hotel is quite a ways north.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end.

“Of course, I’d be delighted to have her.”

“Something wrong, Dad?”

“You both stay the night together at Annabelle’s last night then?”

It was James’s turn to be silent.

“Yeah, we did.”

“And you’re still there? Staying another night also?”

“Yeah.”

“You heard what I said about her, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, you were right.” He lowered his voice. “She was innocent.”

“But not anymore?”

“No, not anymore.”

“We’ll talk more about it tomorrow, then.”

“Talk about what?”

“I said, we’ll talk more about it tomorrow.”

“Sure, Dad. See you tomorrow, then.”

“Good night, James...and tell Susan good night too.”

“Bye, Dad.”

James went back into the kitchen, sat back down at the table, and lifted his wine glass. “This calls for a toast,” he said. “We’ve been requested to audition for a bloke named Ryan Graystein.”

Susan almost choked on the piece of chicken she’d just put into her mouth. She chewed, swallowed, and picked up her wine glass, clinking it against his.

“That’s fabulous!” she said. “Oh, James, you’re an incredible talent!! I just know you’re going to be famous! This is just the start; you wait and see.”

He grinned from ear to ear. “I hope you’re right then,” he said. “So, here’s to our being famous!”

They each took a sip of wine.

James looked at Susan tenderly. How wonderful to have someone believe in him so much. She was like a rock, so sure of his future and success. It made his heart melt.