Anna’s facial expression shifts. With a glare of purest ice and layering as much scorn into her words as she can, she replies, “Why on earth would you think that’s a compliment?”
The latter-day David stops. He blinks, but it is a long, slow blink. An affectation. Anna wants to roll her eyes, but she keeps her gaze steady.
He’s more hesitant as he replies, “Because it is.”
Maybe that line has worked before, but Anna doubts it. “You see a beautiful woman and you assume she has no other talents than her looks. Why would that be a compliment? Maybe I can act; maybe I can sing. Or get this, maybe, just maybe, I can hold a life in my hand, carefully balanced between survival and oblivion?”
Another of those slow blinks. Anna finds herself intensely irritated by them, as if she is being kept waiting without cause. It is not as if she expects wisdom or witticisms from this man. As her words about life and death register, she sees his complacency replaced with wariness.
“That’s crazy talk!”
“Perhaps I’m a psychopath?” She raises one eyebrow. His reaction is not quite a flinch. He gives a nervous laugh and backs away. Job done. As she turns away from him, she sees him retreat to his seat in a corner of the bar area.
Perhaps she was a little unfair. Sitting alone at a bar is generally regarded as an invitation to approach, but Anna is irritated by Bella’s absence. Besides, she has had enough of handsome men, especially those who know it. She abandons her perch at the bar before any other man looking for a night’s company misinterprets her presence. She takes a seat by the entrance. Ten minutes go by, and Anna is about to send a chasing message when she sees James and Bella appear.
“I’ll get some drinks,” Bella volunteers. As she makes her way to the bar, James slides onto the bench seat opposite Anna.
“Sorry we’re late,” he says, looking sincere enough to wind back some of Anna’s grouchiness.
Anna shrugs. “I should have expected it. By Bella’s standards, this is nothing. She was once two hours late to her own party.” She glances towards her friend. The same guy who hit on Anna now seems to be chancing his luck with Bella. But instead of shooting him down, Bella, her hands full of drinks, seems to press-gang him into being her waiter. He trails behind her, holding Anna’s soda. She watches his hands carefully to make sure nothing is added to any drink.
Bella sets her cocktail on the table and places a beer in front of James. Then she wraps her arm around the guy holding Anna’s drink and gives him a side hug. Anna’s eyebrows hit her hairline.
“This is my brother, John,” Bella exclaims, the delight in her voice unmistakable. With her free hand, she gestures vaguely at an appalled Anna. “Anna, James.”
John mutters something in his sister’s ear.
Bella’s reaction is a guffaw. “Her bark is worse than her bite.” She gives three little claps of her hands. “I thought John could join us tonight. Like a double date!” Her hands fan out, her fingers flickering like she is singing “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star”. “We are going to have such fun together.”
Bella slides in beside James. John takes a look at the chair beside Anna and reluctantly sits, with as much enthusiasm as a man approaching a rabid dog.
“John’s been travelling around the US,” Bella tells the table.
“That’s wonderful! I’d love to do something like that one day.” James sounds wistful.
“Oh, babe,” Bella huffs out an excited breath, “we could do that together! Wouldn’t that be just perfect?” She wraps her arm around his and snuggles her face against his shoulder. Anna is taken aback. These are long-term plans for a romance of a very short duration.
James looks overjoyed, although the only outlet for the strength of his feelings is a light kiss to the top of Bella’s head. The recipient doesn’t appear to notice as she leans forwards, eyes fixed on her brother.
“Anna was at medical school with me. She works for James.”
If Anna had had any choice, there would be no double date. She has never understood the purpose of them at all. If for her benefit, then she is perfectly capable of finding her own dates, and when on them, perfectly capable of holding a conversation. And if she has to endure a double date for someone else’s sake, the last person she would choose to join her in the evening's torture would be John. But short of getting up from the table feigning a sudden migraine – difficult to be convincing when two of the three are doctors – Anna cannot see another way out of the evening.
She turns a neutral smile on John. “So, what is the best thing you have seen so far?”
John’s smile in return is superior. “Oh, I’m not travelling to visit attractions, like some stamp-collecting tourist. I’m travelling to experience the real America.”
Not travelling then, more like bumming around. Anna nods pleasantly.
“John’s thinking of writing a book about it,” Bella interjects.
“A contemporary Jack Kerouac?” Anna asks John, one eyebrow raised.
“What?”
“On the Road?” Anna helpfully supplies the name of Kerouac’s seminal novel.
“What’s on the road?” John’s frown deepens, as if he suspects Anna is mocking him.
