Leaving

It was noisy in the curry-house and Rebecca was late. Still, she was the guest of honour; it was her leaving party after all. There were already a dozen of the office either side of the long table, second round of drinks were half-full, when Rebecca and Louise made their entrance. Having shared a bottle of wine and a few other drinks while getting ready at Louise’s house they were both into the swing of the evening before they’d even managed to take their places at the end of the table. Rebecca, as ever, looked lovely; naturally tall, black top with gold buttons, black trousers and heeled shoes served to accentuate her height and showed off her long blonde hair. Philip was at the other end of the table, having perused the menu and taken his usual quick decision on dinner, he was engaged in small talk with a couple of the guys around. It was always hard to avoid returning to the subject of work, which is what, after all, everyone around the table had in common; but Philip made a conscious effort to avoid it. He didn’t often make the nights out, but tried on important occasions. Being the boss, he preferred to keep at a reasonable arms length without being too aloof, although he recognised he usually got the balance wrong! So he sat casually discussing the prospects fro the upcoming football World Cup, holidays, houses, beer and numerous other things, while casting the occasional eye around the table, just to check everyone was fine & no-one looked left out. As usual, his eyes lingered a little longer on Rebecca and he smiled inwardly, she was good and he was sorry to see her go but personal reasons had overcome business ones & she was off to pastures new. He’d miss her; her presence in the office, her flashing smile & infectious laugh, the same laugh that tinkled from the other end of the table now. Philip smiled again and ordered another round of drinks.
Two hours later and the largely intact group spilled out of the door. Philip holding the door and getting a "Thank you, kind sir" from Rebecca as she was last out. They walked together, straight across the road and into the club where it was surprisingly busy & Philip peeled off to the bar while Rebecca was met with some people who’d missed the curry but wanted to catch up. Philip enjoyed dancing; he was still fit from playing football, although he felt at lot more at home on the pitch than the dance-floor. Fortunately the club wasn’t the trendiest in the world, so the music sat squarely in Philip’s era and he had no complaints when Ally pulled him onto the dance floor to a batch of mid-80’s tracks. His formative years flooded back with; ‘A Town Called Malice’, ‘Where the Streets Have No Name’, ‘West End Girls’ and he and Ally joked about favourite bands without getting closer than leaning down and shouting in ears.
As the music went back a decade Philip gave up and went in search of a drink; he hadn’t said much to Rebecca since they’d come in but she was at the bar now, so he strode over beside her. "Drink?" her blue eyes sparkled in the semi-light. "I’ll stick to coke for this one, thanks", Philip knew the night would go on some time. She put her head on one side and asked in a deadpan voice; "Would you like a straw?" The smile that touched her eyes made him laugh out loud and it seemed the most natural thing in the world to briefly lick his tongue out in a throwback to childhood. But that was Rebecca all over, he’d always felt so comfortable in her company. Drinks assembled they wandered back to the group but stood slightly apart from them and close together so they could talk above the noise. Music, future plans and then ‘Red, Red Wine’ started to play. That was quite enough encouragement for Philip; "Would you like to dance?" "I’d love to". So they disappeared into the amorphous mass on the dance floor and spent the next 4 minutes looking straight into each others eyes, brown on blue. The rest of the crowd was emptied from his thoughts and although he’d drunk quite enough, his throat suddenly seemed dry. They moved closer and then apart, and as Philip took her hand to pull her back to him he nearly fell over as he suddenly seemed to momentarily lose his balance. Someone, somewhere had put some fireworks in the head and Rebecca, presumably with that female intuition of hers winked at him and he dropped her hand in confusion. Smiling to cover up a feeling he’d never felt before he finished the dance before they retired to the side and Rebecca was whisked away for another round of goodbyes. Back in control, Philip watched her over his glass from afar, trying to work out who had driven such a big hole in his emotional dam and wondering what to do about the wall of water bearing down on him. The goodbyes went on for a long time and with Rebecca leaving the country in a week’s time, they were more emotional than most. By the time Rebecca got round to Philip, he’d largely recovered although he was struggling to keep up any kind of sensible conversation with anyone else. "So..... it was really good working for you", she murmured in his ear as they hugged. "It was good to have you working for me.... good luck", was all he could manage. They clung together for a little longer than they should, Philip drinking in her scent, his heart quickening until they parted. Rebecca looked levelly at him, with a serious look he hadn’t seen before. He managed a fragile smile in return & she was gone, for then, into the dark