Paul rose in greeting, both surprise and pleasure on his face, "I suppose it is a Wednesday," he said, "I was just thinking about you."
Their surprise, in turn, was total. Bill was the first to recover, "Paul Sharpe! Of all people."
The look of delight on Ann's face made Paul's knees weaken. It was undoubtedly Ann, no question of that, but not as she had been, frozen in time, in his memory. This was an older Ann, perhaps a little plumper but with the same sandy hair, no longer in a pony tail but permed and curly; the same generous mouth and high dramatic cheek bones; very much the remembered ample bosom, though there did seem to be rather more of it. The years had been kind to her.
Perhaps the years had not been so kind to Bill. Men do tend to lose hair, some more than others, and Bill was almost bald. His shiny pate reflected the light but below it was the same remembered face, the same twinkle in the eye and the ready smile.
"Old man, what a thing, great to see you." His hand outstretched.
It was grasped and shaken warmly by Paul.
The peck on the cheek from Ann a further delight. "You have not changed a bit."
Not at all true. The lines were there, the hair was white though, by way of contrast, Paul was actually leaner and fitter than he had been back thirty years or so before. His fairly sedentary approach to life had changed with his discovery of badminton and he still played regularly and well. He had changed.
"Nor you both."
"Come off it!"
The pleasantries by which social intercourse proceeds.
An adjournment to the tea rooms and later to an Italian restaurant followed their initial meeting as they all caught up on thirty years of news. The little baby within Ann all those years ago was now a grown man and, moreover, with both a brother and sister. Two of them actually married. How the years had marched along. There were photographs in Ann's handbag.
Paul was modest about his success, more interested to talk about their lives than his own. He was not unhappy with what he had done but there lives were a lot more interesting to him, or probably anybody, he thought.
He had been a little vague about his house but not where he was living. He had retired close to the sea, he liked the air and enjoyed long solitary walks along the shingle. Paul was more than happy to talk about that. He had invited them to visit and to stay. It would be no difficulty for him, no inconvenience at all, indeed quite the contrary.
"Don't bother yourself on our account. We can make the beds."
Paul had assured Ann it would be no trouble at all, it would not cause him any extra work. That was certainly true. He would get the lady who 'did' to prepare a spare room and make the other arrangements. It would truly be no trouble to him - and the pleasure of seeing his long lost friends for more than a meal would be considerable.
Paul was rather embarrassed by Bill and Ann's evident surprise at his motor car when he met them at the station a few weeks later to drive them to his home. The Rover was not cheap and was top of the range - Vanden Plas. It was equally clear they were more than a little surprised at just what sort of house he could afford. Paul wished he had been more forthcoming at the Italian restaurant but he had not wished to seem condescending or boastful of his own success. He had the money and had bought a good house in a good area and put the car, which had caught his fancy, in the garage. It was not as if the car was flashy or sporty. It was very much the car for a successful, but retired, and rather conservative man.
The house did rather mean he had to explain how well he had done with the firm. "Those evening classes did rather pay off."
"I should say," said Bill, "well done!"
Such a pleasant evening together - Bill and Ann had arrived quite late - with a dinner prepared by the lady who 'did.' Paul was fortunate in her. She was a good cook as well.
In the morning, after breakfast, came a little walk around the outside of Paul's house to see his not exactly small garden.
"Oh," said Ann, "a swimming pool!"
It was not something Paul would have installed. Not just for himself. Yes, he could swim but he would have thought the expense an absurd waste of money. It had, though, been already there when he bought the house and he found it pleasant to take a dip on the occasional hot day. Indeed, the summer before, he had been quite pleased just how many lengths he had built up, morning by morning, as the summer had worn on.
"You didn't mention this or I'd have brought my costume. It's lovely, what a thing, and the water is quite warm."
Paul thought he had mentioned at the restaurant that he lived by the sea but perhaps the bracing cool water of the English seaside had not caught her imagination or else the connection to swimming had not been made.
It was a pleasing sight to Paul to see Ann kneel with her dress spreading on the paving and reach and touch the water. In her fifties she had lost none of her allure to him. Still the ample bosom, well, that was hardly likely to have disappeared - indeed had clearly grown; still the strong thighs moulded by the dress and, whilst he missed that pony tail, he thought the perm suited her well. He remembered back to when he had seen her other curls, back when the hair on her head had been as straight as a die but not so the hair 'down below.' He smiled at the memory of her mass of fair curls - no doubt still there under the dress. He had so liked seeing them - and touching.
"Paul didn't mention what a house he'd got, either - all kept a bit close to your chest, old man. You've really got quite a place here!" Bill's voice betrayed no envy, just honest admiration. He seemed to take genuine pleasure in Paul's success. He turned to his wife, "Ann, you'd have hardly worried about a costume forty years ago!"
Ann laughed, perhaps even reddened a little. "No, I should say, Paul saw rather a lot of me in those days! Rather better to see me then than now, alas."
The allusion caught Paul off guard. "Shall I get some coffee?"
