Page 4 of Searching for Mr Tilney

‘Is this your first time in Bath?’ he asked, and I saw Ellen smile as she looked from him to me and back again.

‘No,’ I said, and was going to leave it at that, but I knew Ellen would think me rude if I didn’t answer more politely. ‘I’ve been to Bath once before, but this is my first time at the Pump Rooms for tea.’

‘An excellent choice, though I would say that, of course. The sandwiches are delicious, and the cakes guaranteed to add inches where you don’t want them, though I’m sure you ladies don’t need to worry about that. Let me know what you think of the chocolate éclairs … they’re my favourite.’

He left then with our order, and I stared down at my place, fiddling nervously with my cutlery, determined not to look at his retreating back. Ellen was still watching me, and I knew what she was thinking.

‘What a very charming young man,’ she said looking at me intently, ‘and quite handsome too, though perhaps a little too beatnik for my tastes.’

‘He’d be better looking if he brushed that unruly mop on the top of his head … or had a shave,’ I said, suppressing the urge not to giggle at Ellen’s comments.

‘Yes,’ she agreed, ‘I don’t know why men like growing facial hair so much. I’m sure if they were kissed with wire wool every morning, they would stop it, immediately.’

I laughed, especially when I thought about Roger’s bushy beard, and before we’d both stopped giggling the waiter was back with a tray of teapots and china. I watched him take Ellen’s napkin and flick it out with a flourish before placing it on her knee, and then waited in dread for him to do the same to me. He seemed to bend right over until I was staring at his ear and the sideburns that melded into his beard. He straightened, and I caught his fragrance, a hint of Bergamot, but sharper than the scent of the tea that he proceeded to pour into delicate china teacups.

‘Would you like me to pour the milk?’ he asked.

Ellen declined his offer, and said we should prefer to do it ourselves.

‘Have you been here long?’ he said, placing the jug before her.

‘We’ve just arrived this morning,’ said Ellen, pouring a spot of milk into her tea, ‘and as you see, we’ve been shopping already.’

‘Ah yes, ladies love shopping in Bath, and there’s lots to be done before Christmas. Have you got much planned while you’re here?’

‘We haven’t made exact plans yet, but I’m sure I shall be doing a lot of shopping,’ Ellen replied, beaming up at him.

‘I meant have you many activities planned … are you going to the Christmas ball, for instance?’

He was looking at me now, and I had no idea of the answer.

‘I shall certainly see about tickets,’ Ellen said, ‘and I’m sure Caroline would love to go dancing.’

‘Well, everybody in Bath will be there … it’s always a very grand affair … black tie and ball gowns, and lots of people jigging about who don’t know how to do the old dances. Though none of that matters, there are dances for everybody, and they all jump up to do “the twist” after a few drinks.’

‘Oh, Caroline, doesn’t that sound wonderful? And it would give you a chance to wear your new frock.’

I smiled weakly, thinking that my idea of fun was very far removed from the kind of ball he was describing, and wished the young man would hurry up and go and get our food. I think he sensed what I was thinking and left us, not before he’d winked and grinned at me.

‘He looks a bit like that Swedish singer, only not as filled out, don’t you think?’ Ellen said. ‘You know, the one from Abba … is it Björn?’

‘I thought it was Benny who had the beard,’ I said, thinking that the conversation was becoming completely surreal. I wasn’t an Abba fan, and the comparison was hardly flattering.

‘Well, whichever one, I do think our waiter looks a bit like him, even if his hair and eyes are not quite the right colour. He looks hippyish, but very ‘with it’, I daresay.’

Fortunately I didn’t need to reply to these observations, as the bearded one reappeared with a tiered glass stand filled with sandwiches, scones and cake.

‘There’s lots to do in Bath besides dancing,’ he continued, putting a plate before me. ‘Do you like the theatre or cinema?’

‘Yes, I like both,’ I said, then instantly regretted answering so positively, and for an awful moment thought he might suggest taking me. All I could think about was sitting next to him in the dark with that devilish beard scratching my face as he attempted to kiss me.

‘There’s a horror film on at the Little Theatre,’ he went on, ‘I’m going with my friends next weekend.’

I was sure my sigh of relief was not only audible, but also very visual, though I didn’t care. I kept my eyes on my plate, and when I looked up he’d finally gone.

‘I think he’s rather sweet on you,’ said Ellen, ‘not that I’d encourage you to go out with him. I’m not sure your mother would approve of you going around Bath with a waiter.’

‘I don’t think my mother cares about things like that,’ I said, knowing Ellen would probably be shocked. ‘But, have no fear, he’s not my type, and I’m sure if I was his, he’d have asked me on the spot. He’s just that sort of guy.’