The Flounce
(Or: A Very Dramatic Gentleman.)
Mrs. Alice Salisbury’s holiday party was in full swing. As best as she could determine, her guests were having a splendid time. Her home smelled of pine boughs and of the log fire her husband Nelson had started before company began to arrive. People wore their finest holiday garb, and the sounds of vigorous conversation, tinkling glasses, and laughter greeted Alice everywhere she turned. She had chosen her guest list with great care, hoping for an optimal mix of people to provide lively talk and perhaps even some fond memories to carry forward into the upcoming new year.
Alice moved with great deliberation through the throngs of people in her home, trying to spend a little time with each guest in turn. It would not do for her to appear to favor one person over another.
How is dear Mr. Cartwright? So very sorry he couldn’t make it tonight.
So your delightful hat is from that new shop at the end of Miller Lane? I will definitely have to pay it a visit.
Well, that is a difficult issue indeed. Perhaps it is a topic best suited for another time, yes?
But were those raised voices she heard coming from the study? She turned towards that direction to investigate, but got sidetracked when Mr. Edward Marsh complimented her on the fine wines being served. She enquired after Mrs. Marsh’s delicate health and attempted to look interested as Mr. Marsh rattled off a long, detailed list of the ailments that had afflicted his unfortunate wife and prevented her appearance at the party.
And then heavy footsteps shook Alice’s floor. Someone was walking to the door with rather unseemly haste, and with a stomping tread more suited to an elephant than a human.
Alice turned to see Mr. Theodore Pepperbottom approaching the door, and the man looked so indignant that the very air around him seemed angry. Before she could speak up, he spun around and fixed her with a dark-eyed glare.
“Madam,” he said, “I am taking my leave of this place. And I assure you that I shall never return!” Even his moustache trembled with righteous rage.
“Why, Mr. Pepperbottom,” Alice said, hoping to soothe his ruffled feelings. “Whatever is the matter?” She didn’t know the fellow as well as some of the others here, but he had always seemed like a reasonable man.
“Your acquaintances stated opinions that I find most distasteful! And when I attempted to set them straight, they merely turned their backs on me. Why, that fellow there even laughed in my face!” He pointed out Mr. George Templeton, who did not appear to making even the slightest effort to look contrite.
“But your friends need worry no more, madam!” Mr. Pepperbottom’s face turned bright red as he continued. “I shall never darken the door here again.”
He adjusted his hat and his coat.
“Nobody try to stop me, now,” he said as he fiddled with his outerwear. “I said I shan’t stay. I am quite finished with this place.”
Alice couldn’t see that any of her guests appeared inclined to prevent Mr. Pepperbottom’s departure, but this did not stop Mr. Pepperbottom from continuing to fuss as he adjusted his watch, his shoes, his pantcuffs, and even his hat.
“I will not be returning, madam. You can be quite certain of that. As I am such an unwanted burden, I won’t trouble you a second longer. No point in begging me to remain.”
“We aren’t,” Mr. Templeton muttered. Alice turned and glared at him, willing him to be silent.
When it became clear that nobody was going to talk Mr. Pepperbottom out of taking his leave, and when he had quite run out of things to adjust, he let out one last harrumph as he glared at the assembled company.
“Well, that’s that, then. I shall be off.”
“I am terribly sorry you did not have a better time, sir,” Alice said, still feeling perplexed.
And Mr. Pepperbottom showed himself out, giving the front door a great, wall-shaking slam.
“Dear me,” Alice murmured. “That was quite an exhibition.” What sort of a person, she wondered, thinks he is so terribly important that his exit should be such a momentous occasion for everyone else?
“Good riddance,” Mr. Templeton said, a smirk curling up one corner of his mouth. “I do hope the door didn’t strike his posterior too roughly on his way out.”
And then the guests turned away from this spectacle and resumed conversation. Before long, Alice—and everyone else—had quite forgotten the departure of this odd gentleman.
This is part of the Ninja Writers May Post-A-Day Challenge. If you enjoyed this, I’d ❤ a recommend heart. You can find a listing of my fiction on Medium here, and I blog occasionally over at my personal website.
