Page 12 of The Extraordinary Florence Stoker

‘I’ll look forward to it,’ I said. Mr Stoker was staring off into the distance and, for just a moment, I had the sense I’d lost him.

‘Thank you for inviting me,’ I said, regaining his attention. ‘And for such splendid seats; Phil and Catherine’s too.’

Mr Stoker chuckled and patted my hand. ‘I wish I could take credit, but they were given to me in the hope I’d review the play.’

‘Oh. So, you’re working.’

‘It’s not work when I’m with you, Miss Balcombe.’

‘I should hope not, Mr Stoker. That would be a very poor start to our … friendship.’

‘Friendship? I like the sound of that,’ said Mr Stoker. ‘Friendships can evolve, can they not?’

‘I like to think all relationships can, otherwise what does one have but something predictable and thus dull?’

‘I doubt you’d ever be predictable or dull, Miss Balcombe.’

‘Heaven forbid!’ A thought occurred. ‘Though, it would depend, would it not?’

‘On what?’

‘With whom one forms a relationship.’

Before we could continue, the conductor tapped his baton, the music commenced, and the gas lights dimmed. The audience hushed and Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew started.

The rather dark comedy about the courtship of the cantankerous and intolerant Petruchio and the spoiled and ill-tempered Katherina might have seemed an unusual choice for a first outing, yet with Mr Stoker laughing beside me, leaning over to whisper snippets of information such as ‘See the young man playing Lucentio? He’s destined for great things, mark my words,’ or ‘Watch the way the background changes in this scene, it’s remarkably innovative,’ I was captivated.

During intermission, Phil and Catherine joined us, and we were introduced to acquaintances of Mr Stoker, including an old Trinity professor and his wife.

‘What a handsome couple you make,’ said the woman, whose name I didn’t catch. She had very crooked teeth and a warm smile. ‘You’re turning heads everywhere.’

People were whispering and pointing. A journalist who worked for the same paper Mr Stoker reviewed for, and even the politician Mr Charles Parnell, who continued to fight for Home Rule, something Mr Stoker was also passionate about, came over to greet us.

‘That’s a fine man you have there, Miss Balcombe,’ said Mr Parnell, after we’d been introduced. ‘Hang on to him.’

‘As I would a reticule?’ I asked.

Phil snorted and Catherine reddened. Mr Stoker choked back a laugh. Mr Parnell was not so successful. ‘I like her, Bram. I like her very much,’ he chuckled.

The bell rang announcing the play was about to recommence.

‘We’d best return to our seats,’ said Mr Stoker. ‘Misses Balcombe?’ He offered an arm each to Catherine and me, inviting Phil to proceed us. ‘What an enchanting evening. Three lovely ladies all to myself. I’m becoming quite insatiable.’ He lowered his head. ‘Especially for your company,’ he added for my ears alone.

His grey eyes were soft, warm and filled with something I didn’t want to name. My heart became an acrobat.

We didn’t speak again until we were seated.

‘What do you think of the play thus far?’ he asked, watching as those around us fussed and chattered. He raised his hand to acknowledge another friend.

‘I’m thoroughly enjoying it, though I’m not persuaded that Petruchio’s methods for taming Katherina are sound.’

‘Oh? And why is that?’

‘I would think punishment might weaken a person’s defences, but in the long run, kindness and tolerance are far more persuasive tools for changing behaviour, don’t you think?’

Mr Stoker considered my words. I liked that he did, frowning, rubbing his beard. ‘In usual circumstances, I’d agree they’d have a better long-term outcome. But this is essentially a battle, with only one victor. It’s an interesting way to observe marriage, don’t you think? As if there’s an enemy to defeat and …’

The music started again. Mr Stoker put a finger to his lips ruefully. ‘Later,’ he whispered. I also liked that unlike other patrons who continued to converse, he respected the players.