Storm and Silence(190)

‘You did drink even more!’

‘How did you know that?’ I demanded. ‘I told you no, like any good little soldier!’

He ignored my question, taking a threatening step closer. ‘Why did you consume even more alcohol? I gave you express orders not to!’

I nodded sagely. I remembered that.

‘Yessir! But then I remembered that I simply love disobeying your orders.’ I grinned. ‘I suppose I’m not a soldier, am I? Not so good with following orders.’

‘No, you’re not.’

‘Blast! Well, I’m still going to conquer the world. Want to help me?’

‘No.’ He sounded terse for some reason, and not at all eager to help me with my big project of world domination. Strange… Very strange…

‘At the moment, what I want to do, Mr Linton, is to go to number 97 East India Dock Road, and to tear it down brick by brick. But considering the state you are in, that will have to wait. Come on.’

A firm hand grasped my elbow and started to lead me towards the exit, away from the suspicious innkeeper and the dancing yellow piggies on the wall. I waved goodbye to them and smiled brightly.

‘Nighty night!’ I called over my shoulder. ‘Thank you all sooo much for your performance! You were mesnesmeresizing…mesmerizing.’

‘Will you hold your tongue!’ Mr Ambrose hissed.

I shook my head.

‘No, I don't think so. It’s too wet, I don't want to get my fingers wet.’

We were out of the pub now and walking down the street. Our progress was rather slow, though. For some reason, the world kept wobbling, and the two Mr Ambroses insisted on walking with one arm around me. Amazing how they both managed to use one and the same arm.

‘You see,’ I said, gesturing at the swaying houses on either side of us, ‘that’s why I want to conquer the world. If I could tell the world what to do, I’m sure it would sit still and not be moving around like this.’

‘Assuredly, Mr Linton. Come along.’

‘Plus, there’s this whole thing about equality of the sexes. I could fix that once I’d conquer the world, and kick all the chauvinists out of government, and make them tie the shoelaces of passing schoolgirls and clean public latrines.’

‘Very sound policy, Mr Linton. Now if you could walk a little faster…’

I was touched. I never would have thought a Mr Ambrose would actually agree with me. I just wish I knew which of the two it was. Maybe at least one of them would help me conquer the world after all, and we could rule it together - although he would act in a solely advisory capacity, of course. The power had to stay with women, where it belonged.

‘I’m so happy you agree with me,’ I said, snuggling up against him. I could feel him stiffen beside me, and his steps, which up to that point had been regular as clockwork, became uneven. ‘I mean… you normally act like the most cold, callous, cruel, dogmatically domineering bastard in the world, but sometimes… sometimes, like now, I get this crazy idea and I start thinking you could actually be quite nice. You know, if you wanted to.’

‘I… am gratified to hear that, Mr Linton.’

The world swayed again, and I put my arm tighter around him. ‘Yes,’ I murmured. ‘Quite nice. You feel nice, too.’

Mr Ambrose missed a step and stumbled. The swaying world must have started to put him off balance, too.

‘I-indeed?’

Had he gotten drunk, too? For a moment, it had almost sounded as if he had stuttered.

‘Feel nice, look nice… you’d think you’d have more brains.’

‘More brains?’

‘Yessir!’ I nodded vigorously, glad at the chance to explain to him what a humongous dickhead he was. ‘I mean this whole business with Miss Hamilton, for example. I mean, how could you be so stupid? If you really had to pick somebody, why somebody like that, so shallow and effeminate and… boring?’

The fingers which held my shoulders twitched.

‘Do feel free to air your views on my bad taste in female companions, Mr Linton,’ he said. Did I imagine it or did his voice sound slightly strange. ‘Don’t mince your words on my account.’

‘Don’t worry,’ I assured him, glad to put his fears to rest. ‘I wasn’t going to. I mean… Couldn’t you at least find somebody intelligent? No, no. You had to show up with the first pretty face you could get hold of. That’s shallow of you. Made me angry.’

‘Angry, Mr Linton? Why?’

Stored away somewhere in my befuddled brain, I might have had an answer to that. But I thought it was time to come back to my overarching theme.