The Perfect House

Chapter 27: match-making?

There were smiles and head-shaking around the dining table as Bobba concluded his report.

"It was a total knockout," Adele stated emphatically, returning to the boxing theme. "I'm sure you guys can imagine that Roberto is now the flavour of the year in the Atwood household."

Bobba was laughing, "Anyway, Adele's agreed to return the favour."

"Willingly," Adele smiled.

"And what's the favour?" demanded the ever-curious Macy.

"Well, in three weeks' time, I am to attend cousin Clement's twenty-first birthday do."

"Ah, a Pendergast function," put in Flori.

"Yep, and I've picked up a little hint that my mother is going to ask me to partner with my second cousin, Selma."

"SELMA", Preston burst out with while the three other boys began roaring with laughter.

"Girls," Preston continued with a tight expression, "let me tell you what these three so-called friends of mine did to me at Bobba's eighteen birthday party. It was a big affair, heaps of relatives. I spotted this good-looking chick standing by herself and thought I'd make a move. She was a little stiff to begin with, but that changed quickly - she just took control; I'm not even sure how. It was: 'Come and meet Aunt Margot', 'We should have a dance now, Preston', Preston, tuck your shirt in', 'Preston, that's enough drink for the time being', and so on."

"I couldn't get away from her. I pretended that I was feeling sick, but she was going to nurse me. And all the time these three bastards were laughing their heads off at my suffering. I mean, Bobba and Flori knew what she was like, they could have warned me."

Shaking his head, Preston concluded, "Selma may be a doll, but hell, she's a total control freak."

"Poor Pres," Macy said with amused sympathy.

"Yeah, and I can only hope that you end up with her at that do, Bobba. It would serve you bloody right."

"Not going to happen. Adele's going to pretend to be my girlfriend, so obviously I have to take my girlfriend," Bobba was grinning smugly at Preston.

"Blast. Hey, Adele, come on, leave him in the lurch . . ."

"Sorry, Pres, but no way can I do that," Adele smiled broadly.

"There'll be 'proper' dancing at that do," observed Flori, "Adele, how's your ballroom dancing?"

"Well, I have learnt, but I'm probably pretty rusty."

"There you go, Bobba, take the girl to Trocardo's for some practice."

"Hey, that's not a bad idea, Flori."

"Trocardo's?"

"They're a dance school, Adele," Bobba explained, "They have a dance every Friday night; a lot of the old-time stuff such as waltzes, foxtrot and the like, but there is always tango, rumba and a fair bit of jive and more modern style. Whadda you reckon?"

"Yeah, sounds good; let's do it."

A little later, Macy grabbed Florian by the hand, grinning and whispering, "Flori, the matchmaker."

"Oh rot, Macy. Just giving friends a simple little suggestion."

"Yeah, yeah, of course, and I like it, I like it."