On the evening of the Easter Ball, Alan was spellbound at the sight of Clare in her cherry red evening dress and although, unfortunately, there was no cleavage she looked ravishing. Her dark hair was curled up onto her head with a sparkly hair clip showing the nape of her neck, which looked very sexy. Alan felt comfortable in his James Bond outfit and had bought a toy pistol, which he'd placed in his pocket.
The taxi arrived on time and took them to the Country Club. A long queue had formed inside the entrance as each couple were formally introduced into the dance hall. As the queue dwindled down, Clare pulled a pair of glasses from her handbag and put them on. Alan was horrified.
"You can't wear those!" he shouted. "Take them off right now."
"Please don't shout. Miss Money Penny wears glasses." she said.
"You aren't wearing those hideous things." he said and he grabbed the glasses, accidentally scratching her face.
"Ow, that hurt." she said pushing him away.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to."
Clare was upset and Alan felt embarrassed. People behind them were staring.
"I can't be Miss Money Penny without them, so what will I be?" she asked.
By this time, they had reached the entrance to the dance hall.
"Who shall I introduce?" asked the usher.
"We're James Bond and um... his woman."
They were loudly introduced and Alan felt himself colour up. He didn't blush often, but somehow it always happened when he was with Clare. She certainly did something to him. Alan saw Clare roll her eyes upwards as they walked into the room. In a moment of complete madness (or so he thought afterwards) James Bond fell down on one knee and taking the pistol from his pocket, pretended to shoot people around the room. "Kapow, Kapow, Kapow" he shouted. He was about to get up when he collapsed onto the floor, a red hot pain shooting up his leg. Clare bent down towards him. "For goodness sake, get up. What are you playing at?" she hissed.
"Ah...ooh, don't just stand there. Ah! Go and get a chair." he whispered, rubbing his leg.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Ooh..." he rubbed vigorously. "It's cramp..." he said between groans.
"James Bond with cramp, yes, he's just about to jump out of the plane and he gets cramp... he's just about to swing from the bridge and he gets cramp...I've never heard the like."
She was angry with him already and the evening had hardly begun. As Alan continued to rub his leg, a small group of amused people gathered around him, including Patrick and Sabrina.
Eventually, James Bond recovered from his bout of cramp and he escorted his 'woman' nonchalantly to the Bar.
"What would you like?" he asked her.
"A much less embarrassing evening." she replied.
"Perhaps you'll forgive me if we win first prize." he said.
"That all depends what it is."
"£100 first prize, £50 for second and £25 for third." said Alan.
"That would be £50 each, so yes, I think I'll forgive you. We won't get first prize though, look at them all."
They were surrounded on all sides now by historical figures, a group of Star Trekkers and characters from stories and Nursery Rhymes... every costume worthy of a prize.
They made their way to a table with their drinks and sat down. Shortly afterwards, Philip and Libby arrived, dressed in ordinary clothes. Alan and Clare stood up to greet them.
"Hello darling." said Philip to Clare, "How wonderful to see you. You look lovely." He kissed her cheek.
"Hello Clare." said Libby "It's nice to meet you." She also kissed Clare's cheek.
Alan slapped Philip on the shoulder and greeted Libby.
"You two sit down and we'll get some drinks." said Alan.
"Didn't you want to come in fancy dress?" asked Clare, sitting down at the table with Libby.
"If you slip them an extra tenner, they let you in without." said Philip.
Clare sighed. "I wish we'd known that."
"But you're not in fancy dress." said Philip.
"We're James Bond and his 'woman'," said Clare glaring up at Alan. "Can't you tell?"
Alan and Philip made their way to the bar leaving Clare and Libby to get acquainted.
"Less of the darling, if you don't mind." said Alan to Philip as they reached the bar.
"Clare's my darling, not yours."
Philip laughed.
"Still having problems eh?" he asked perceptively, leaning his elbows on the bar.
"If I get chance, I'll tell her tonight." said Alan.
"I suggest you hurry up mate, or you'll miss the boat." Philip replied.
They returned with the drinks and began to enjoy the evening. Later on, a live band started to play and Alan danced with Clare until their feet ached and they both needed to cool down. Alan suggested they go outside for a while. He led Clare to the corridor, which led out onto the terrace and closed the glass doors to give them some privacy.
It was a beautiful, spring evening. Clare sat down on the terrace wall, taking off her shoes and rubbing her feet. Alan stood beside her. Down a few steps from the terrace, lay a well manicured garden with flower-beds and shrubs. Beyond that, the golf course, spreading miles away into the distance. Although he didn't think of himself as romantic, dancing with Clare had made him feel that way. Surely this was his moment?
"Oh look, it's a full moon. Isn't it lovely?" said Clare.
Alan wanted to say 'Not half as lovely as you,' but his courage failed him.
As they looked up at the dark night sky, studded with stars a huge, bright, ethereal moon shone down upon them. It was breathtakingly beautiful and they stared heavenwards for several seconds.
"It makes me feel like something and nothing." said Clare.
"Why?" he asked.
"I'm part of Creation and the Universe is immense, so it makes me feel like something, but I'm so small by comparison, it makes me feel like nothing. And God loves me, so it makes me feel like something and then on the other hand I'm like a little ant down here, so it makes me feel like nothing." She laughed softly, causing a shiver to run up his spine.
"Of course God loves you." said Alan. He felt elated. Clare had opened up a chink and now he could lead up to the moment. He moved closer to Clare and put his hand out to touch her face...when a deep voice boomed from the doorway.
"Oh there you are, you two. Are you enjoying yourselves?"
If looks could kill, Patrick Harris would be lying dead in the doorway. Alan looked at him with daggers. Patrick, however, was oblivious. Alan was furious. Why did this always happen?
"They're announcing the winners, you must come." said Patrick.
He grabbed Alan's arm and pulled him back into the corridor and Clare slipped on her shoes and followed.
In the dance hall, the compere was announcing the winners of the fancy dress.
"First prize" he yelled through the microphone, "goes to Captain Kirk and Dr Spock!"
Kirk and Spock went up to collect their prize amidst cheers and clapping. They were photographed as they left the stage.
"Second prize goes to... 'Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf" they also went up to collect their prize and were photographed. "And third prize... goes to... "James Bond and his 'woman'." whispered Alan into Clare's ear.
"... Robinson Crusoe and Man Friday."
"I'm gutted, really gutted." said Alan.
"I expect you are, Alan especially as I'm never going to forgive you." Clare replied.
"Ah, but you're a Christian, you have to." he said.
"It's that cut and dried is it?"
"Yes, of course, and you do forgive me don't you? I'm sorry I scratched your face and introduced you as James Bond's 'woman'."
He looked down into her lovely face, her large brown eyes sparkling and her cheeks pink from dancing, and his heart skipped a beat. She looked lovingly up at him.
"I've had a wonderful time and I do forgive you. I know you would never hurt me on purpose."
They looked at one another and smiled, both remembering a time long ago and Alan touched her nose gently with his.