Phyllis: Part Eight

This is the eighth part of a fiction serial, in 746 words.

With the number of messages now well over two hundred, Terence had to spend time whittling out the chaff. By the time he had done that, he was still left with over thirty that looked promising. That left him with the conclusion that the real over-fifty women must be lacking appeal, for some reason.

Lawrence Colman-Tolliver was definitely worth trying. Seventy-seven years old, and looked every minute of it. Privately educated, and related to the family that once owned Colman’s Mustard in Norwich, he still lived in the county of Norfolk. He listed his interests as ‘Fun’ and ‘More fun’. The profile photo showed him on a pheasant shoot near Sandringham, blatantly suggesting he was one of the monied clique that surrounded the Royal Family. Whether that was true, or bluster, remained to be seen.

The trouble was, Norfolk was a pain to get to. So when he replied to the direct message, Terence suggested London as a meeting point. He could afford a better hotel since he had fleeced Geoffrey, and might as well speculate to accumulate, by appearing to Lawrence as not to be concerned about money. Annoyingly, the old man took his good time to reply, and not until eleven the next morning. His message read like something that could have been sent in the nineteenth century.

‘That would suit, M’dear. I can stay at my club in Pall Mall, and meet you at Rules restaurant, Covent Garden. Would seven on Saturday be good with you? I can send a car if need be. I have to say you look like a jolly attractive lady indeed. Don’t be fooled by my age, I am very active, and can guarantee you would not be at all disappointed.’

Well, he was full of himself, Terence thought. Probably another Viagra-swallower. But the Colman’s mustard connection suggested some inherited wealth, so he replied quickly.

‘Why Lawrence, that sounds wonderful. I know Rules of course, wonderful English food in an intimate atmosphere. I will arrange a taxi from my hotel, and meet you inside at seven as you suggest’. The old bastard took over an hour to reply. ‘Looking forward to it, M’dear.’

A hotel in Kensington was a step up from Bayswater, and even at twice the price, at least it included breakfast. Seeing as the old man was staying at his club, Terence booked two nights. After all, Geoffrey was paying, even though he didn’t know that. To seal the deal, he sent Lawrence the photos of himself as Phyllis in the black cocktail dress, They had worked so well with Geoffrey. Annoyingly, it was a good hour before he got a reply, and he had been on the verge of going to bed when it arrived.

‘I say! Outstanding, dear Phyllis. You have definitely got my interest, and much more’.

Terence went to bed happy. He had the old git hooked, if not landed in the net.

Having made the decision to change his profile photo, Terence was up early the next morning. After booking the hotel, and a one-way train ticket, he put on the black cocktail dress and black stockings thst seemed to work so well. Then he chose a better wig, a black real hair wig that had a short bob style. With pale make-up and dark eye shadow, he looked much younger than his fifty-three years, more like a thirty-something model from the swinging sixties.

Re-launching his online profile, he could not help but smile as the message counter ticked over at an alarming rate. No doubt greatly helped by making sure some stocking-top was apparent in the three photos he used. If things didn’t work out with Lawrence, he had so many more to choose from. With almost a week to prepare, there was no need to rush.

First, an appointment with a beautician in the city who dealt with hair removal and asked no questions, some new underwear at Marks and Spencer’s, followed by a leisurely lunch at one of the better hotels in Nottingham. With the tax bill paid, and plenty left in the bank, he was actually looking forward to seeing what old Lawrence had to offer. Meanwhile, he had saved three more contacts on the dating website.

It was all going so well. Much better than he had ever imagined.

On the train to London that weekend, he even attracted some admiring glances in his new outfit and black wig.

The signs were favourable, that was definite.

42 thoughts on “Phyllis: Part Eight

  1. (1) Lawrence Colman-Tolliver wanted to get into the condiment business. But, according to his relatives, he couldn’t cut the mustard.
    (2) According to the average peasant, the taste of a pheasant is not unpleasant.
    (3) Bad citation: “The trouble was, Norfolk was a pain to get to. So why did Terence feel a sudden urge to visit, and maybe even settle down in, Beetley?”
    (4) Lawrence may be a Viagra-swallower, but is he also a sword-swallower? (Terence thought about asking Lawrence for a written reply to that question, but then realized that he preferred an oral response.)
    (5) Does Larence Colman-Tolliver resemble Sir Francis ‘Piggy’ Beekman? He sounds like a gentleman who prefers blondes. (Too bad ‘Phyllis’ will be wearing a black wig.)
    (6) “Terence went to bed happy. He had the old git hooked, if not landed in the net.” I’ve never gone fishing for git. Does it taste good?
    (7) Terence looked “like a thirty-something model from the swinging sixties.” Shouldn’t he arrange to meet Lawrence on Carnaby Street?
    (8) On the train to London, ‘Phyllis’ even attracted some admiring gLancelots.


  2. Though the scam might not always come from someone pretending to be a different gender, I suspect many people on these dating sites outright lie or stretch the truth about themselves.

    Liked by 1 person

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