The day you meet your Villain

Peter Harcourt

Claudia released her grip on the old lady’s arm. Dinette wiped her eyes and tried leaned heavily on her stick. The rain still hammered against the roof and they were both silent, thinking.

“Your husband was taken by something out of this world?” Dinette asked in a croaky tune.

“I know he was taken by someone from a story, from his book.”

Dinette’s aged face seemed to wrinkle more deeply as her face crumpled. She walked carefully to her chair and lowered herself into it. She heaved a long sigh.

“Then woe to all writers to come,” she muttered.

Claudia Hollander rushed to her side.

“What is it? Why? Why would that happen? Why is this happening?”

“He’s restless. He’s now restless. It never ended with Peter.” Dinette thought aloud. She bowed her head in misery.

Claudia knelt before her and tried to look into her eyes.

“Tell me, Mrs. Copeland. Tell me everything,” she told her.

“There was this man. He was very angry and he swore…”

“No Mrs. Copeland,” Claudia interrupted. “Tell it from the very beginning.”

Dinette Copeland looked up into the large eyes of the determined young woman. She straightened her back and pushed back her shoulders. Claudia reached for a small chair and sat on it then she folded her arms and waited for Dinette to be ready.

Dinette heaved a sigh. Then Claudia was surprised to find her eyes water and she broke into a wide smile. The smile developed into a small chuckle and as she chuckled, she cried as well.

Claudia’s nerves were frayed, she was exhausted. She was almost at a breaking point and Dinette’s sudden laughter did much to ease her taut muscles.

“Well now Mrs. Copeland,” Claudia said smiling herself. “What has made you so pleased?”

Dinette wiped the tears from her eyes again. She looked into Claudia’s eyes and laughed again.

“What?” Claudia wanted to know feeling a strange surge of emotion rising to her face.

Dinette gazed steadily at her smiling. “Did you know you have very big eyes?”

Claudia gasped. Then she threw her head back and laughed outright. The old lady joined in.

“Oh, Mrs. Copeland,” Claudia cried. “I know they’re enormous!”

Dinette gradually stopped laughing. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just couldn’t help it.”

“You know, my husband used to love them. He once told me… he once said that they were incandescent.” Claudia shook her head as she released a sigh. “I never knew the word.”

“It means luminous, radiant. It’s a beautiful compliment… and it’s true.”

Claudia watched her with her incandescent eyes. “Are they the reason you burst into laughter? I like you with this wide smile Mrs. Copeland… er… Dinette. There are other things about me that are quite funny to look at. Feel free to laugh.”

“Youth,” Dinette replied quickly.

“What?”

“I laughed because I remembered my youth.” Dinette smiled again. “I remembered Peter. I remembered… love.”

“Love?”

“It was bliss.”

Dinette closed her eyes and put her hand to her chest. Claudia watched her breathing deeply, her lips moving slowly.

“He was your husband,” Dinette said.

“We were to be married. He was my fiancé and I loved him.”

Claudia had nothing to say. She looked very solemn.

Dinette opened her eyes and straightened.

“I’m aged,” she began “But I remember everything like it was yesterday. I have kept it in my heart and have chewed down on my lips but I remember every single thing. It is vivid.” She cleared her throat. “It was a time in the 16th Century, exactly one hundred years ago. I was only twenty-one by that time. Then, I went by the name Greenwood, Dinette Greenwood and I was making ready to be married. I was to be married to Peter Harcourt.

We were doing quite well together till one day in summer when he came with what he thought was good news that will change our lives for the better. ”

Dinette smiled.

***

It was that bright summer day and everyone seemed lively. Ladies went about in frivolous gowns and slim waists. They wore gloves on their hands and had umbrellas over their heads. There was polish in the air, fashion was the talk of the town and there was the inevitable sound of chickens clucking around in the market place.

It was also a time when books began to have different looks in terms of their printing and bindings. The metal and leather clasps of the 15th century, gave way to ribbon ties or no fastening at all. Books became smaller and were easier to bind. Paste-boards replaced wood as the materials for covers, gold tooling became more prominent and titles slowly made their way into the spines of books.

It was in this time that publishers, printers and booksellers worked together in the producing and sales of books. The publishers took over the funding aspect and the booksellers were able to sell the books directly to the public.

It was this reason that made a young man walk spiritedly down the road, his hands in his pockets and a half smile on his face.

He was much deep in thought to see a wagon with a load of watermelons, driven by a couple of strong energetic horses, galloping towards his way. The driver on the other hand had turned his attention from the road to the small waist of a young maid who had duck-tailed past with a suggestive roll of her hips and stared blatantly without dignity.

The young man turned to look, then yelled and the driver pulled back on the reins just in time. The horses galloped to a stop right in front of him and the man ducked, screaming loudly. The lady with a duck-tail glanced back and frowned. She turned back, threw her shoulders back and increased the momentum of her hips.

“Now I’m sorry, mister,” the driver pleaded. “I was… I… um…”

“It’s alright.” The young man replied flicking his collar. He brushed off something invisible from his sleeves and added “I’m in quite a good mood so I won’t dwell on the fact that I was almost trampled down by a couple of horses because of your… whatever that was.”

“You can’t blame me now, can you?” The wagoner laughed. “We all get to be in the spot at some time, now or then.”

The young man smiled. “Don’t all men?”

The wagoner guffawed. “Now, now, I can’t say that’s any excuse, now, but that was quite a lady now that just went past now. I couldn’t help it now, could I?”

The young man looked at him wondering what it was with him and the word ‘now’. When he perceived the wagoner had more to say and not looking forward to that discussion he concluded the matter.

“How right you are. I would really love to stay and talk but I must get going.”

The driver nodded.

“Alright, now I’ll see you around.”

As the young man crossed the road, the driver flipped the reins and got the horses moving again.

The young man, now at the other side went back to his thoughts. He walked with a bounce. His eyes, steady on the road, were dark blue and charming. They twinkled like the eyes of those several people who had a tendency to make mischief. He was that and then some.

He was tall, quite slim and dark. He had no mustache but there was a small beard that pointed out from his jaw which at that moment, he brought his hand to it and stroked. A large smile replaced the other one, framed with wide red lips and a well-defined set of teeth. He was a beautiful man and his name was Peter Harcourt.

He stopped at the door of a flower shop and looked through the glass panels. The florist was stooped over tending to a few roses.

He tried to open the door as quietly as he could. At that moment, the florist had looked up to see his reflection on one of the glass windows. She smiled to herself then tried to look as serious as she could manage.

“Are you going to cover my eyes with your palms, you might as well wash them first.” she said without looking back.

Peter gasped. “You knew?”

“Of course I knew,” she replied. She straightened, put her hands on her waist and observed what she had done nodding. When she turned to look at him, she flashed him a wide grin and Peter felt his heart miss a beat.

“I always know when you come around no matter how you try to creep in. I can feel it…” she walked up to him and took his hand, looked over it to see if it was rid of ink stains then placed it on her chest. “…here,” she concluded.

Peter blushed crimson.

“Really?” he whispered.

The lady was Dinette Greenwood. She put her hands around his neck and nodded.

“Tell me,” Peter probed. “How does that happen? Do you feel your heart skip a beat or rather, a twinge in your chest?”

Dinette laughed softly, thinking all the time about his reflection that always seemed to betray him.

She raised her face up to his and whispered.

“It does more than that. It begins to pound furiously and I feel this sudden rush of… desire.” She stood on her toes and whispered the last word in his ear.

Peter put his hands around her waist and drew her close. He placed his lips on hers and murmured.

“What will I ever do without you Dinette?”

“Die, perhaps?” she suggested and he chuckled then feeling her lips part open, Peter kissed her ardently, his fingers caressing her waist and hips. They were like that for a few moments then Dinette broke the kiss with a soft sigh. She looked up at Peter with wide eyes.

Dinette was young, soft and fair. She wasn’t just pretty or beautiful, she was enrapturing. She had round, oval face, brown innocent eyes, well-framed nose and a small mouth. However, her most enchanting feature was her hair. It was a mass of bountiful curls of striking auburn hair that encompassed her oval face and tumbled over her shoulders. Every lock seemed vibrant with its own energy. It was one of Peter’s most favorite things to do; putting his fingers through it and feeling them caress his skin and squirm around his fingers like they had a life on their own.

Dinette was also tall and slender. She had full round breasts that hung from her chest like ripe pears. Her waist was small rounded with perfect hips and curvy buttocks.

Peter looked into Dinette’s smiling face. She regarded him, staring deeply into his eyes then her brows knitted together.

“Am I the reason for this cheerfulness I can see written all over you? Your face is practically beaming.”

Peter swallowed. “Um… er… well…” he stuttered.

“I’m not the reason then.”

“There’s something else, someone else.”

“There’s someone else!” Dinette demanded.

Peter chuckled. “I don’t mean that.”

He disengaged from the hug, took her by the arm and steered her over to a chair where she sat. There was a stool beside her which he perched on. He was smiling all the while.

“Dinette,” he began “An opportunity has come my way that can change our lives forever. I’m telling you, this is just perfect. If it goes alright, we’ll be married in a few months.”

Dinette shrugged. “We’re doing pretty well already.”

“Oh, you know what I mean. We’ll have money in our pockets at every time. We’ll be able to do buy a big house with so many rooms that our great-grandchildren will have theirs and there will still be a lot more. This is the kind of dream I want to live, Dinette. I never want us to go hungry. I want to be able to spend money, have coaches of my own and live like… royalty. But better still, I’ll be doing what I love best all along, at least that’s what he says.”

“What he says? the ‘someone else’?”

Peter nodded.

“You wouldn’t believe who I met today Dinette.”

“I wonder…” Dinette stroked an invisible mustache.

“Never mind,” Peter said “You won’t be able to guess.”

“Who was it then?”

Peter told her.