The Lost Girl - Part II

[Part II. Which follows Part I. Astonishing co-incidence, don't you think?]

“Sure, if you say so, now where was I?
…him go. I suppose you had your reasons.
Last week I’d been to Boston on some business, and guess whom I ran into at the Cheers bar? Your old flame, that sailor man Perriot Parker! He now owns his own shipping line and just bought two spanking new cruise ships! They say he’s the richest sailor this side of the Atlantic. I wish you’d made something more out of that week you spent on his yacht.”
“Perriot Parker!!” I yelled, leaping to my feet in consternation, “that bald, uncouth, mumbling, ugly, gutter mouth sailor? You were with HIM?”
She put on an offended look.
“He was nice and big and strong.”
“I’m sure he was,” I said, making a disgusted face, “what with those overgrown forearms and that ridiculous pipe!”
“And a nice pipe it was too,” she said with a mischievous smile.
It was too much to take. I stomped out of the room into the kitchen and found myself a can of beer.

“So why did you break up with him?” I heard Fenderis ask her.
“Isn’t it obvious?” she replied, “he wasn’t what I was looking for. Jormund was – and I happened to meet Jormund at the right time. YOU should know – you were there that night at the Valkyrie Tavern.”
“I do remember. You kicked me rather hard in the flank. Anyhow, I’d better finish this letter. Hey Jormund, get back here.”
I tramped back and settled back into my chair with a black look on my face.
“Well go on, Fenderis. What other wonderful men has…umm… my girlfriend…been with that her father wants to remind her of?” I put as much irony into that word as I could muster, and I meant it too.

“Actually, he doesn’t. It goes on like this:
Anyway, enough of that. The main reason I wrote to you is to ask you about your future plans. As you might be aware, I’d put away a little money in the bank as a “marriage fund” when each of your sisters were born so that by the time they were ready to get married, it would put enough money in my hands to arrange for a suitably lavish marriage. Naturally, I did the same for you when you were a year old. There were quite a few occasions when I thought I might have to make a premature withdrawal on that deposit but the time never came. About a year ago that deposit matured and I’ve kept the money ready ever since. However, since you’ve been with that lazy, incompetent, unworthy nitwit Jormund Elver…”

“I am NOT a nitwit,” I said indignantly, “I might be all the other things, but I’m NOT a nitwit!”
“You’re none of the other things, Jormund, but if you think you are, you might be a nitwit,” said Ariel.
“Call me a nitwit indeed!” I growled.
“Don’t take it so seriously, Jormund, Papa has his way with words, you know. Fenderis, read on.”

I was still grumbling as Fenderis picked up the strands
“…Elver, I haven’t heard anything from you about any forthcoming nuptials. My financial advisor tells me it’s imprudent to leave that much money lying around. Besides, it could have adverse tax implications. So please write back at the earliest date telling me which of the following you intend to do:
1. Dump that fool and find someone better. In that case I shall invest the money in a short-term deposit.”
2. Leave him and then spend some time crying over him and then find someone better. In that case I shall put the money in a one-year T-bill.
3. Stay with that poor excuse for a human being. In that case I shall put the money in a 20-year Bond.
Love,
Your father,
King Triton.
That’s it I think, oh wait, there’s a post-script. WHAT!! I refuse to read this!”

“What’s the matter?”
He handed the letter to me.
“The post-script’s in Latin. Read it for yourself.”

I did. It read: Does that pathetic Elver still spend most of his time with his disreputable young cousin, the mangy, gluttonous mutt of a Fenderis?

Fenderis sat gnashing his teeth, speechless with indignation and anger. I stared at the letter stupidly.
Ariel now got back on the attack.
“There you have it, Jormund. How much clearer should I be?”
I shifted my weight into a more comfortable position.
“Really, you know, you shouldn’t let your father bully you into rushing into things.”

The result was a tad unexpected. She shot up to her feet and stood directly facing me, hand pointing indignantly at my face. I looked up timidly at her face. It was nearly as red as her hair, a feat I wouldn’t have thought possible.

“Rushing into things? You miserable fellow, I’ve waited two years! There’s a limit to how much longer I can do it. You won’t talk about us and our future. I’ve had enough of you changing the subject every time I bring it up. I’ve had enough of you finding some exam to give or some work to do every time your mother brings it up. I’ve had enough of you avoiding your responsibilities. I need to know when, Jormund, I need to know when you’re going to put me out of this misery of waiting for you to tell me where you see this going! Are you serious about our relationship?”
I cringed under the onslaught. The Queen Tigress herself had never had this effect on me. Ariel’s quite a slim little thing for the most part, ‘dainty’ about describes her perfectly, and ‘little’ is a prefix that her family often uses when referring to her (most guys I know use ‘little’ in conjunction with ‘hottie’) but at this moment she looked about 7 feet tall as her flashing green eyes bore down on me. Behind her, Fenderis was still frothing at the insult her father had delivered to him.

It was some time before I could form a sentence. When I did, it came out as,
“Ariel, don’t you think you’re being a touch impatient? We’re both still quite young as Greco-Norse demi-gods go.”

“Impatient?” the words came out through clenched teeth, as though she was trying to hold back a torrent of much stronger words, “I’m being impatient, am I? I have to wait for you whenever we go on a date, because you’re always late, and you say I’m impatient.…”
“The traffic, Ariel, it’s terrible,” I said in a small voice, but she ignored me.
“I have to wait ages before you ever pick up the phone.”
“It rings so softly, I can barely hear it.”
“I have to wait for eternity for you to call me, because you never do.”
“Your Aunt Persephone cross-questions me so much!”
“Damn it, I had to wait till our fourth date for you to so much as kiss me!”
“I…uh…ummm…..throat infection.”

She took a step forward and grabbed me by the collar pulling me forward, placing her knee on my thigh and her head level with mine. Ordinarily this would have been an intensely pleasurable experience. This time it scared whatever wits I had left out of me.

“Jormund Elver! No more evasions, no more of this procrastination, no more of this dawdling. Give me something definite, something concrete, or tell me you were only fooling around all this time."
“How can you even think I was fooling around, Ariel, I’ve loved you since I first saw you that night at the Valkyrie Tavern! It’s just that…”

I didn’t get any further. In fact I only got as far as ‘think…’ because Fenderis finally found his voice, and it came out loud, clear and authoritative, drowning out my half-choked gurgle.

“He isn’t going to marry you, Ariel. Who could ever put up with you and your pathetic emotional blackmailing tactics? You think that just because you’re this amazing looker he’ll want to snap you up? He can’t put up with you and your childish behaviour and that’s why he’s not going to marry you. Could I be more plain?”

A full minute must have passed before any of us moved. My ears burned as the horror of his words sank in. Even Fenderis seemed too stunned by what he’d just said. Ariel looked on as one frozen in a nightmare. Gradually her grip on my collar loosened and she let me go. I sank back into my chair, dazed. She didn’t exactly stagger – she’s far too naturally graceful for that – but as she moved to catch hold of the tall lampshade for support her gait was distinctly unsteady.
For a moment I thought she was going to faint. The colour had certainly drained out from her face. I got to my feet, albeit slowly – my mind was still struggling to digest the import of what Fenderis had just said – and made a move towards her as she tottered where she stood. But her genes, inherited from Poseidon and Amphitrite, wouldn’t let her faint. She put up her hand to keep me away and then rushed up the stairs. A few seconds later I heard my bedroom door slam and the bolt being shot.

I found myself overcome with an overwhelming desire to run after her and bang on her door, begging for forgiveness, to assure her that I loved her more than I could ever put in words, that I wanted nothing more than to marry her and call her my wife, that Fenderis had been talking through his hat, but before that I had something else to take care of.

I turned on Fenderis and grabbed him by the neck. He didn’t resist.
“You pathetic, pathetic mutt? What were you thinking?”
“I…I’m sorry, old chap, I didn’t meant to hurt her…no, I did. That’s exactly why I said it. I’m sorry, old chap, I really am,” he said in a doleful yowl.

I choked back my tears as I picked him off the ground and carried him to the door.
“Do you have any idea what you were saying? You fool! You miserable fool!”
“Look, I’ll talk to her, I’ll explain it, right? It’ll be fine.”
“I don’t know if she’ll ever talk to ME again, you…you…” I didn’t have the words for it. I just threw him out onto the lawn and shut the door. He yelped piteously. It wasn’t pleasant outside.

I staggered to the stairs and climbed them, trembling with trepidation.The door to my bedroom was shut. I banged my hand against it.

“Open the door!”
“Go away!” came her voice from inside.
“You got to hear me out, Ariel.”
“Leave me alone!”
“But…I can explain, Fenderis was just angry, listen to me, won’t you.”
“I said, leave me alone,” came a distinctly teary voice, “if I hear another word from you I’ll jump out of the balcony.”
I shut up. The threat wasn’t particularly frightening in itself – it’s only a 15 foot fall at the most – but the intention had to be respected.
After a while I heard the sound of someone flopping down on the bed followed by sobbing. I let myself slump to the floor and closed my eyes trying to keep the tears down.

Not very successfully.