The truce

Leonora stared at him. Leonard had definitely lost it. He was utterly and completely mad. Only a raving idiot would ask about two letters written some 20 years ago.

"What did you do with the letters?" he repeated pleasantly as though she hadn't heard him the first time.

"I was serious you know. I meant every word," he said, adding to Leonora's discomfort.

She shook herself. And recovered.

"Only you Leonard, would ask silly questions about letters written 20 years ago.

"If you were so interested, it might have been a good idea to have asked about them at the time."

"So, why didn't you reply?" he persisted cheerily.

"Leonard. Shut up about the letters. I'm not interested in them," she said.

"I am. Why didn't you reply, or even mention them to me?" he said.

Leonora looked at him perplexed. She had thought he was having a joke at her expense at the time and he seemed to be doing it again now.

She had been so annoyed when she received them that she had intended to reply, or say something about them to him, but never quite thought of the right words and eventually time had slipped by. Just as well, she thought.

"They are in the past Leonard and that's where they belong. Leave them there. And if you can't find anything more sensible to talk about, clear out of my room."

"Aw Leonora, that's a good reason to talk about them. We can have a conversation like adults."

"We never have a conversation like adults, as we both well know. Now if you don't shut up about them I shall throw my book at you," she said assertively.

"You weren't reading it anyway. And you would miss."

"How could I miss when you are six inches from my nose and getting right in my face. As usual," she said, becoming irritated with him.

"Leonora,....." he began.

"I'm serious Leonard. Shut. Up."

"OK," he said reluctantly. "But if I'm meeting you halfway, you could at least drag yourself out of the bedroom and come and talk to me. Or read your book in the same room as me." And then he left.

Why had she not answered his questions? Leonard did not like to have his questions ignored. He thought he was particularly good at asking questions too. The trouble with Leonora was that she was quite good at avoiding them. That silly journalist training that she had done had taught her to spot a basic line of questioning, and she had also developed an aversion to answering Nosy Personal Questions. Maybe he would ask her again when she was in a better mood.

Leonora was confused. Leonard confused her at the best of times but this questioning about the letters was truly strange. She decided to put it to the back of her mind, as she had done with the letters all those years ago.

But she realised he was right about avoiding him. She had been avoiding him, for good reasons in her opinion, but if he was offering to be nice, or at least as nice as he could manage, she could hardly refuse.

She got out of bed and then realised she was going to struggle to carry the book while using the little crutches. Well, if Leonard was going to be so helpful and kind she would get him to come back for her book. Perhaps she could send him on a few trips backwards and forwards to the bedroom. That would soon determine how nice he really was.

She limped painfully into the sitting room.

Leonard was faffing around with his music on the computer as usual with about 10 boring forums open at the same time.

"Leonard," she said with a forlorn face. "I can't carry my book and manage the little crutches at the same time. Do you think you could possibly go and get it for me please? I'm sorry to disturb you," she said in her very best apologetic voice.

"Of course Leonora. No problem." And off he went. Thank goodness the stupid woman had decided to be reasonable for once.

Leonora installed herself on the sofa. Leonard brought the book back.

"Oh Leonard, I'm so sorry. I didn't realise until I lay on the sofa that I would really like a sheet or a light blanket or something. Do you think you would be able to bring one from the bedroom for me?" she asked.

Leonard gave her the book and looked at her. She met his gaze. The truth was she had forgotten she would want something to cover her, although the thought of sending Leonard back again was very nice. She obviously couldn't do it a third time though.

He came back with a light cover for her and carefully tucked it round her.

"Thank you so much. I won't ask for anything else," she said, and smiled sweetly at him. Too sweetly he thought.

She wondered how long to leave it before she asked for a glass of water. And perhaps a sandwich. This truce could be fun.