It's a balmy evening; the white fur wrap sliding off her shoulders seems like overkill. It goes though, goes with the cherry red lips, the formfitting gown, the youthful eyes and dark curls. Breathing into his ear she is pouting, simpering.
"Oh darling, can't we please just go now? I don't want to wait to run into any more old acquaintances and I can't bear not having you in my arms for one minute longer!"
He smells of whisky and cologne, and his hands on hers is strong and reeks of power.
"My darling you know we can't leave until they announce the award, it would be unthinkably rude."
"Oh please...."
A sigh and a hand casually creeping up the pinstripe of a thigh. White elbow length gloves keeping the whole thing lady like, of course. This is a perfectly lady like entanglement.
A deep inhaling of breath and he stands, a dashing smile pasted to his lips. She takes his offered hand and the two of them quietly take their leave.
Outside the night is pierced by the yellow flashes and fast question slung by the ever eager reporters. No, she was not unwell, just had a slight headache and wished to be taken home at once. No, she had no comment on any of the scandals vaguely attached to her name. No, he would not be spending the evening with her, he was simply dropping her off at the Chateau in his car.
Draped in the leather seats in the back of his car her long fingers toyed delicately with his jacket lapel.
"Darling, come out with me tonight."
"You know as well as I that we must stay inside, preferably in separate estates entirely."
"But darling, I will be bored. Please, just come in for a quick drink. I won't make a scandal, I swear it."
Being an actress has taught her just how to play on men's emotions, and the honest question in her eyes was answered by his arm drawing her in just a little closer.
A whoosh up the gravel drive and they are home, her home at least. Inside is dark and cold and elegant.
"Don't lets be inside. It's too warm and wonderful out. Let's go walking." She is sliding her white drape off and her red dress too, and right there in her great hall she is standing with moonlight on her skin and no shame in her eyes. She wraps herself in a robe and slips off her shoes and walks barefoot out the front door.
"There are stories here. There are stars in the sky and a green light across the harbor- there, and there are stories." Silence. The night is breathing and for a while, they let it.
"Tell me a story."
"You wouldn't like these stories. They all end in death; or worse in life without dreaming."
"I don't mind." The night breaths again; exhaling in little puffs across the bay.
"The lawn, that one over there. There are people dancing and drinking and dancing some more."
"Drinking? Scandal!" Her legs are over the side of the dock, she is brushing the water with the tips of her toes. His fingers search her shoulder, looking for some imperfection that does not exists.
"And there, you see your swimming pool? There is a body there. Not an actual person, just the idea of someone, floating I think."
"Alive?"
"No."
The green light is winking at them. The slow whosshhhh as the water slides up and down the shore is keeping time with the clunk of the rowboat pulling at it's mooring. She is staring at the stars and plinking pebbles into the water.
"This is it, isn't it? This is all we have. The rest is a lie, this nothingness, this is what we really own. This is what we will live for and die with."
"Yes."
"Nothingness."
"Yes."
She stands, abruptly.
"Goodnight Scotty, I think I will go float in my pool for a bit."
"Goodnight."
She turns to leave, then pauses standing still with her back to the water.
"I'm leaving you know."
"I know."
The next day the headlines that would have been splashed with horror and intrigue remained focused on stocks and innovation and style. When the police had left and the house staff dismissed he stood there, still. She wouldn't want him to waste such a perfect delusion. So he went home.
