nineveh_uk

Just for you, the first part of "Five times Mervyn Bunter didn't get laid in the course of duty, and once he did". I have stalled a bit on the rest and other things on account of sleeping terribly (I blame the weather) and thinking about housing all the time. Must buck up.

I.

Mervyn Bunter, knotting his tie in front of the large round mirror that was one of the few tolerable features of the small studio his lordship had seen fit to rent in Kirkudbright this year, found that despite everything he was looking forward to the evening. It was true that the film to which he was squiring the young person Elizabeth was one he had already seen in London, and that it had merited only a negligible claim on his attention the first time, but as he did not intend to spend much time watching it this was of little concern. He distributed notecase, cigarettes, and a bag of boiled sweets in their various pockets, and, after a moment’s contemplation over the sponge-bag, slipped a small packet in with his handkerchief. The girl wasn’t bad looking, and one never knew.

She wore a surprisingly attractive hat and coat, and introduced him to the box office attendant as a “Mr Bunter, a real London servant” in a tone of awe that promised much. They took their seats second from the back row (pushing things too early never paid off), she ate her ice-cream, and then turned to him her wide, foolish, cornflower blue eyes,

“Oh, Mr Bunter. Do tell me everything about his lordship!”