On a clear,
Moonlit twelfth night,
The members’ knocker
Sounds upon the door
Of Nocturna.
Daniel Hargraves answers.
Standing before him
Is a tall woman
Of Scandinavian appearance.
She smiles.
Nods.
“Hello, Daniel.”
For just a moment,
The formidable doorman
Seems to forget
That he is formidable.
“Ah…
Ms Winterbloom.
Do come in.”
Hargraves beams.
Far more warmly
Than his customary
Professional greeting
Might ordinarily allow.
Waiting inside,
Gideon Rook
Immediately notices.
Naturally.
“Good evening,
Ms Winterbloom.”
He inclines his head.
“If you would follow me.”
Rosie smiles
At Daniel once more,
Then follows
The senior attendant
Towards her usual booth.
Hargraves watches her go.
Halfway across the room,
Rosie suddenly
Looks back.
She catches him
Still watching.
And smiles.
The enormous man
Immediately blushes
And looks away.
Unfortunately for Daniel,
Someone else has noticed.
Marcel Carreau.
The manager’s keen eyes
Narrow with
Immediate curiosity.
“Monsieur Brillows…”
He whispers to the passing barman.
“A moment please.”
Edgar Brillows stops.
Marcel discreetly nods towards Rosie.
“Who is this woman
Who appears to have
Monsieur Hargraves
So extraordinarily nervous?”
Edgar glances
Towards the booth.
“Ah.
Ms Winterbloom.”
He smiles.
“Daniel has a soft spot
For her.”
Marcel looks back towards the entrance.
“It would appear the feeling
Is mutual.”
“I believe it is.”
Edgar continues polishing his glass.
“But it never goes any further
Than what you just witnessed.”
“Oh, oui?”
Marcel’s expression
Immediately becomes devilish.
“The big fellow is rather awkward
Around her.”
“Perhaps…”
Marcel muses,
“We should assist
Cupid’s arrow in finding
Its intended target.”
Edgar slowly lowers his glass.
“Marcel…”
He says.
“You may find the situation amusing,
But that is a very large gentleman
Standing beside the front door.”
Marcel considers this.
“Indeed.”
He looks again.
“But observe…
The lady is already seated,
And still she watches him.”
Rosie Winterbloom
Stands six feet tall.
It is said she lives alone
In a small cottage
Deep within the northern forest,
Where she works as a herbalist.
A woman of powerful frame,
She possesses
Long light auburn hair
And piercing green eyes.
Tonight,
She wears a dark brown
Houndstooth skirt,
A high-necked white cotton blouse,
And a matching
Dark brown waistcoat.
A long,
Hooded cape coat
Rests around her shoulders,
While tall,
Structured,
Brown lace-up boots
Complete her striking appearance.
Marcel Carreau
Is feeling particularly impish
This evening.
And so,
He decides an introduction
Is absolutely necessary.
He approaches Rosie’s booth.
“Bonsoir,
Mademoiselle Winterbloom,
I’m told.”
Rosie looks up.
Marcel smiles
And offers a courteous bow.
“Marcel Carreau.
Manager.”
“Good evening,
Mr Carreau.”
Rosie regards him
With amused suspicion.
“‘I’m told,’ Were you?”
“Oh, yes.”
Marcel smiles.
“Monsieur Hargraves
Speaks very highly of you.”
Rosie’s eyebrows rise.
“Oh…
Does he now?”
Her gaze immediately travels across the room.
Daniel Hargraves is attempting
Another discreet glance
In her direction.
Once again,
She catches him.
Once again,
The enormous doorman immediately looks away.
Rosie’s smile grows considerably.
“Hmm…”
She murmurs.
“I may have a word
With that gentleman
After I’ve met with Mr Coldbottom.”
As if on cue,
Arthur Coldbottom arrives.
“Rosie!”
He says warmly.
“Good to see you.”
“And you Arthur.”
Marcel bows.
“Ah, Monsieur Coldbottom.
I shall leave you
To your evening.”
And with a satisfied smile,
The manager returns to
The bar.
Edgar Brillows is waiting.
“Mr Carreau…”
He says quietly.
“Be careful.”
The barman nods towards
Daniel Hargraves.
The great doorman
Is slowly pacing
Within his alcove.
His eyes keep drifting
Towards Rosie’s booth.
“Oh…”
Marcel observes.
“He does not appear pleased.”
“Not when
There is another rooster
In the hen house.”
Edgar replies with a knowing smile.
Marcel looks back.
“Ah…
Ms Winterbloom
Sitting with old Coldbottom?”
There is absolutely
Nothing romantic
About their meeting.
Rosie and Arthur
Are discussing
Rare manuscripts on herbalism.
And Arthur Coldbottom
Is delighted to share his knowledge.
Rosie reaches into a worn
Leather sling bag
And removes a small bunch
Of dried purple flowers.
Arthur’s eyes immediately widen.
“My goodness…”
He whispers.
Rosie smiles.
“I thought you might recognise them.”
Arthur can barely contain
His excitement.
Across the room,
Marcel watches
As Coldbottom summons Mr Rook.
Arthur quietly hands Gideon
Several of the purple flowers
And whispers a request.
Gideon looks at the flowers.
Then at Rosie.
Then,
Rather curiously,
Towards Daniel Hargraves.
His eyebrows rise.
“Oh…”
He says.
“I see.”
The flowers are carried
To Edgar Brillows.
The barman examines them.
“Really?”
Gideon nods.
“Apparently.”
Edgar smiles.
“Very well.”
He begins
Preparing two drinks
In tall crystal glasses.
Marcel,
Unable to tolerate not knowing
What is happening,
Immediately joins them.
“What is going on?”
Gideon glances
Towards him.
“Did you,
By any chance,
Mention Mr Hargraves
To Ms Winterbloom?”
“Only briefly.”
Marcel replies.
Edgar Brillows laughs quietly
As he completes the drinks.
“Oh dear…”
Gideon murmurs.
“This could become rather interesting.”
He collects the silver tray
And begins to leave.
“What?”
Marcel demands.
“What is it?”
He turns to Edgar.
The Frenchman
Is suddenly a little less amused.
Edgar smiles.
“It’s a love potion,
Marcel.”
Marcel blinks.
“A what?”
“A love potion.”
Edgar gestures
Towards the remaining purple flowers.
“And a particularly strong one.”
Marcel looks towards Rosie.
“She has been after Hargraves
For years.”
Edgar adds.
Marcel tries to suppress
A laugh.
He fails.
“Oh dear.
Poor Monsieur Hargraves.”
He considers the matter.
“Although,
I must say,
She is a vast improvement
Upon Henley Marcus-Walker.”
Edgar says nothing.
There are some observations
Even a bartender
Knows better than to encourage.
Mr Rook delivers one glass
To Rosie Winterbloom.
The second,
Rather more nervously,
Is carried to Daniel Hargraves.
The doorman looks at it.
Then at Rosie.
Rosie raises her own glass
Towards him.
Daniel smiles.
And drinks.
So does she.
From the bar,
Marcel watches with fascination.
Arthur Coldbottom
Begins gathering his papers.
“I do believe it is time
I should be going.”
He remarks with a chuckle.
Rosie does not
Seem to hear him.
Her eyes are already
Locked upon a thoroughly beguiled
Daniel Hargraves.
Edgar leans towards Marcel.
“If I know that drink,
You may find yourself
On door duties this evening.”
Marcel smiles.
“Oh,
But it will be worth it.”
For several minutes,
Nothing happens.
Daniel remains
Within his alcove,
Holding the tall glass
As though uncertain
Whether drinking it
Has been a particularly
Good idea.
Across the room,
Rosie appears
Equally preoccupied.
Her own glass is almost empty.
Neither speaks.
Neither looks away.
Edgar Brillows
Continues polishing the same glass
He has been polishing
For considerably longer
Than necessary.
Gideon returns to the bar
And quietly places
His silver tray upon the counter.
“Well?”
Marcel whispers.
Gideon glances towards the entrance.
“I believe something is happening.”
“Nothing is happening.”
Marcel replies.
“Precisely.”
Says Edgar.
The three men watch.
Eventually,
Daniel places his empty glass
Upon a small table beside his alcove.
He straightens his waistcoat.
Adjusts his cuffs.
Takes one step towards Rosie.
Stops.
Then returns to his alcove.
Marcel closes his eyes.
“Oh,
For heaven’s sake.”
Edgar suppresses a laugh.
“I warned you.
The poor fellow is hopeless.”
Rosie watches Daniel
From across the room.
She smiles.
Then finishes
The remainder of her drink.
Something changes.
Perhaps it is the herbs.
Perhaps it is the drink.
Or perhaps it is simply
Years of waiting
Finally becoming
Far too many.
Rosie Winterbloom
Rises.
At six feet tall,
She commands considerable attention
Even when she does not
Intend to.
Her long cape coat is carefully removed
And placed across the back
Of her booth.
She smooths
Her houndstooth skirt.
Then,
Without hesitation,
She crosses the room.
Daniel Hargraves sees her coming.
His eyes widen.
“Oh…”
Gideon murmurs.
“Here we go.”
Rosie stops directly before
The enormous doorman.
For perhaps the first time
Anyone can remember,
Daniel Hargraves
Appears genuinely terrified.
“Daniel.”
Rosie says.
“Ms Winterbloom.”
“Rosie.”
She corrects.
“Rosie.”
He repeats.
She smiles.
“Would you dance with me?”
Daniel looks
Towards the dance floor.
Then at Rosie.
Then,
For reasons known only
To himself,
Towards Marcel Carreau.
Marcel immediately
Pretends to be extremely interested
In a nearby vase of flowers.
Daniel looks back to Rosie.
“I’m working.”
“Oh…”
She says.
And the disappointment
Contained within that single word
Is enough.
Marcel Carreau can tolerate
No more.
“Monsieur Hargraves!”
He calls.
Daniel slowly turns.
“Mr Carreau?”
Marcel straightens his jacket
And adopts his most authoritative
Managerial expression.
“You have worked
Quite enough
For one evening.”
Daniel frowns.
“I’ve only been here
Two hours.”
“Nevertheless.”
Marcel gestures
Towards the door.
“I am giving you the remainder
Of the evening off.”
Daniel stares at him.
“You’re giving me
The evening off?”
“Effective immediately.”
“But the door?”
Marcel smiles.
“I shall attend to the door.”
Edgar Brillows nearly drops
The glass he is holding.
Gideon coughs into his hand.
Daniel looks from Marcel
To Rosie.
Then back to Marcel.
“You?”
“Oui.”
“On the door?”
“Oui.”
Daniel considers this for a long moment.
“Do you know the members’ knock?”
Marcel looks offended.
“Of course I know the knock.”
Daniel raises an eyebrow.
Marcel sighs.
“Mr Rook will remind me.”
Gideon nods.
“Repeatedly,
If necessary.”
Rosie laughs.
Daniel looks at her.
And suddenly,
The enormous doorman is smiling too.
“Well then…”
He says.
He offers Rosie his hand.
“Would you still
Care for that dance?”
She places her hand
Within his.
“I was beginning
To think
You would never ask.”
Together,
They walk towards the dance floor.
At the piano,
Leon Morrow
Notices immediately.
His fingers slow.
His eyes follow the unlikely couple
As they step onto the floor.
Beside him,
Lenore Morrow
Notices too.
She smiles.
Without a word,
Leon changes the melody.
Something slower.
Gentler.
A quiet waltz
That drifts through Nocturna
Like warm evening air.
Daniel Hargraves
Looks down
At Rosie Winterbloom.
Rosie looks up
At Daniel.
For a moment,
Neither moves.
“I should warn you…”
Daniel whispers.
“I’m not much of a dancer.”
Rosie smiles.
“Neither am I.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“No,
It isn’t.”
Daniel laughs.
A great,
Deep,
Wonderful laugh that causes
Several members
To turn in astonishment.
Rosie places one hand
Upon his shoulder.
Daniel carefully
Places his around her waist.
And they begin.
Awkwardly,
At first.
One step.
Then another.
Daniel nearly steps upon her boot.
Rosie almost
Collides with a chair.
They laugh.
Try again.
And slowly,
Something happens.
They find one another’s rhythm.
The awkwardness
Begins to disappear.
Around the room,
Conversations
Quietly pause.
Members glance
Towards the dance floor.
Some smile.
Others pretend not to be watching.
Marcel Carreau,
Now standing rather uncomfortably
Beside the entrance,
Is not pretending at all.
He watches with undisguised delight.
“My word…”
Gideon says quietly.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen
Mr Hargraves dance.”
Edgar joins him.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen
Mr Hargraves do anything
That could reasonably
Be described as frivolous.”
Marcel turns.
“Gentlemen…”
He says proudly.
“Look at him.”
“We are.”
Says Edgar.
“Everyone is.”
On the dance floor,
Daniel spins Rosie.
Rather unexpectedly,
He does it perfectly.
She laughs,
Her long auburn hair
Catching the amber light.
Daniel draws her gently back.
And for the first time
That anyone can remember,
The great guardian
Of Nocturna’s door
Looks completely unburdened.
They dance through one song.
Then another.
And another.
The mysterious drink
May have encouraged them.
But whatever
Holds them there now
Appears to require
Very little assistance.
Arthur Coldbottom,
Preparing to leave,
Stops beside Marcel.
“Well…”
He says,
Glancing towards the dancing couple.
“I believe my work here
Is complete.”
Marcel looks at him.
“Your work?”
Arthur smiles.
“I brought the lady
The herbalism manuscript
She requested.”
He puts on his coat.
“Everything else appears to have
Taken care of itself.”
He chuckles and disappears
Into the night.
Hours pass.
Members depart.
Candles burn lower.
Music softens.
Eventually,
Marcel realises he can no longer see
Daniel or Rosie.
He looks
Towards the dance floor.
Empty.
Towards Rosie’s booth.
Empty.
Towards Daniel’s alcove.
Also empty.
Marcel smiles.
“Interesting.”
He leaves the entrance
In Gideon’s capable hands
And begins a discreet investigation.
The reading room.
Empty.
The conservatory.
Empty.
The smoking room.
Empty.
Finally,
He notices the courtyard doors
Standing slightly ajar.
Marcel approaches.
Beyond them,
Nocturna’s
Courtyard garden sleeps beneath
A clear,
Moonlit sky.
Silver light falls across
Winding paths,
Ancient stone,
And carefully tended
Night-blooming flowers.
And there,
Upon a wrought-iron bench,
Sit
Daniel Hargraves
And Rosie Winterbloom.
Close together.
Very close.
Daniel’s enormous hand
Is wrapped gently around hers.
Neither speaks.
They simply sit,
Looking out across the garden.
Marcel remains within the doorway.
For once,
The mischievous Frenchman
Does not interfere.
He simply watches.
Then something catches his eye.
At the far end of the courtyard,
Beneath an ancient tree,
Grows The Dreamfire Lantern.
The legendary fungus
Donated to Nocturna
By Latty Flouse
And Oleg Bloom.
Usually,
A single luminous stem
Rises
From its carefully tended bed,
Its cap glowing with that strange,
Ethereal blue light.
But tonight…
Marcel squints.
“Mon Dieu…”
Beside the original mushroom,
Something new
Has appeared.
A second stem.
Small.
Delicate.
Freshly emerged from the dark earth.
Before Marcel’s eyes,
Its tiny cap slowly opens.
Blue light spills across the garden.
The original
Dreamfire Lantern
Suddenly brightens in answer.
Together,
The two mushrooms
Bathe the courtyard
In shimmering blue light.
Daniel notices.
Rosie does too.
They stare
At the glowing fungi.
Rosie smiles.
“What does that mean?”
She whispers.
Daniel shakes his head.
“I haven’t the faintest idea.”
From the doorway,
Marcel smiles.
He does.
Everyone at Nocturna knows the story.
The Dreamfire Lantern
Is said to glow brighter
Whenever two souls
Who belong together
Find one another.
But never before has anyone seen
A second lantern appear.
Rosie turns towards Daniel.
The blue light catches
Her green eyes.
Daniel looks at her
For a long moment.
No nervousness.
No looking away.
No alcove to retreat into.
Only Rosie.
She leans closer.
So does he.
And beneath the clear moonlit sky,
Illuminated by two glowing
Dreamfire Lanterns,
Daniel Hargraves
Finally kisses
Rosie Winterbloom.
Marcel Carreau
Quietly steps back
From the doorway.
For once,
He has absolutely nothing to add.
Back inside,
Edgar Brillows is polishing
The final glasses of the evening.
Gideon Rook is straightening
The chairs.
Marcel enters
With an expression of complete satisfaction.
Edgar looks up.
“Well?”
Marcel removes his jacket.
Places it neatly across a chair.
Then pours himself
A very small cognac.
“Gentlemen…”
He says.
Gideon waits.
Edgar raises an eyebrow.
Marcel lifts his glass.
“I believe this has been
My finest evening
At Nocturna in years.”
Edgar smiles.
“That good?”
“Better.”
Marcel takes a satisfied sip.
“The Dreamfire Lantern
Has grown a second stem.”
Gideon stops.
Edgar slowly
Lowers the glass
He is polishing.
“A second?”
“Oui.”
Marcel smiles.
“And both are presently
Lighting the courtyard
A most magnificent
Shade of blue.”
Gideon understands first.
His face breaks into a broad smile.
Edgar follows.
“Ah…”
He says.
“Then I suppose the potion worked.”
Brillows considers this.
Then shakes his head.
“No.”
He glances towards the courtyard doors.
“I didn’t add the herb,”
He says revealing the small sprig.
“I think perhaps
Two exceedingly stubborn people
Finally admitted
What everyone else
Already knew.”
Carreau laughs.
Gideon nods.
“And tomorrow?”
He asks.
Marcel looks towards Daniel’s
Empty alcove.
“Tomorrow…”
He says,
“I suspect
Monsieur Hargraves will be
Completely unbearable.”
Edgar smiles.
“Or completely embarrassed.”
Marcel’s eyes brighten.
“Even better.”
The three men laugh.
Outside,
Beyond the glass,
Two figures remain together
Upon the garden bench.
Hand in hand.
Above them,
The moon watches in silence.
And below,
Two Dreamfire Lanterns
Glow side by side
For the very first time.
