An Old Friend: Part 4

A few minutes later, they arrived at the restaurant. It was a quaint little place, not too fancy. It had a warm atmosphere with soft accordion music playing in the background. They picked a table in the corner and sat down. After they had ordered their food along with a red wine, it was time to do some catching-up.

"I apologize for being missing-in-action for so long," Michael said, rather shamefaced.

"Oh, believe me, it's no problem," Lisa answered. What was she saying?? Of course it was! "I've been as busy as ever the past few years. My grandmother became very ill and lived with me for almost two years. I had to start working part-time at the library, because she needed care around-the-clock."

"I remember her!" Michael smiled. "She was at your graduation, wasn't she?" Lisa nodded. "Tell me, how is she doing?"

"She passed away in 1972. She'll be deceased two years in July," she stated somberly, glancing down at the table.

"Oh..." Michael said softly, with sadness in his eyes. "I'm sorry." He put his hand on top of hers, and it made her feel warm inside.

Lisa looked around nervously. "Well...that brought the room down," she said wryly. He laughed. She loved it when he laughed. "So tell me," she continued. "What have you been up to all this time?"

Michael was a bit insulted by this question, as he thought she must have watched a bit of television and had at least caught the Monty Python program just once. "Oh, well, nothing much, really....just acting and performing in a sketch comedy television program, and making a few records, and doing a few stage shows, you know...." he said, quite sarcastically.

She gave him a cold look. He probably didn't know that she had hardly any time for television since she had to take care of her grandmother, but she thought he was overdoing it just a bit.

"What?" he asked.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't get to see you on the telly or in a theatre, but my grandmother took up all of my time. I had hardly any time for myself, it was horrible. I was practically a slave, yet I loved her so much and had to devote all of my time and energy towards her. Had this not happened, I would have tuned in every week, and gone to every venue. Even would have bought a plane ticket to Canada to see you in that tour you mentioned. M-maybe it's my fault," she said shakily. She appeared almost on the verge of tears.

He looked at her apologetically. "No, it's mine. I wasn't aware that you had such a huge responsibility. I'm sorry." He reached across the table and smoothed a bit of her hair behind her ear.

"That's alright. I've lived alone for so long, it can turn one into a loony."

"I know that feeling," he agreed.

The graduation photo slipped out of her purse and onto the table.

"What's this?" he asked. She handed him the picture and a grin crept over his face when he looked at it. "Oh, my, that was a long time ago," he chuckled. "We were such dashing young kids back then."

"I think you're as dashing as ever," she replied as she looked into his eyes.

At that moment, the mustachioed French waiter brought their food. "Your meal, Monsieur," he declared, as he put the plate down in front of Michael. As soon as the waiter left, she was still looking into his eyes. He smirked, then burst into uncontrollable laughter.

"Did I say something wrong?" she asked.

He shook his head and guffawed. "No, no, it's not you. It's the waiter. He just reminded me of something."

"What?" she smiled.

Michael calmed down a bit, then, still laughing, explained. "You see, in the movie we're making, I play a knight of King Arthur in search of the Holy Grail. We arrive at this castle, peopled by some rude frenchmen, one of which is played by John Cleese. He says -haha - he says, 'this is the castle of my master, Guy de Loimbard!'"

She laughed. "That's really very funny!"

"Yeah," he laughed, "and the reason it came to me so suddenly was that we had just been filming that scene today, and now here comes this waiter, who looks so much like the frenchman John played, right down to the mustache!"

Speaking of which, who was that familiar-looking person sitting over in the opposite corner? As they ate their dinner, Michael looked over at him a bunch of times, asking himself over and over if that was who he thought it was. Once they had dessert and paid the check, Lisa saw him looking over towards the other corner.

"Is something wrong?" she asked. Indeed it was. The person who had just sat himself down in the other corner was John Cleese!

"Shit," Michael whispered.

"Michael, look at me," Lisa said, softly. "What’s the matter?"

He turned back towards her. "We've got to get out of here, Lisa," he said quietly. "Come on." He grabbed her hand and they raced out the door.

"What happened?" she asked him once they got in the car.

"The man sitting over in the corner," Michael said, panting, "it was John. I don't know what he was doing there, but it was him."

"John Cleese?" she asked, disbelievably. He nodded. "Well, what's wrong with that?"

He turned toward her. "Listen," he said, seriously. "Don’t get the wrong idea about this, but I haven't told any of the other Pythons about you. Not just yet, anyway."

She was taken aback, but started giggling. "What?? Why not?"

"Well, it's a bit hard to explain," he sighed. "But the others would just make jokes about it. I had told Terry this evening that I was going out with a friend, but I left it at that. I've been single for so long, and, well, they'd just start making jokes if they knew I was seriously seeing someone. Please, Lisa. Don't say a word of this to any of the chaps, particularly Eric. Let's just keep this as our little secret."

"I promise. I won't say anything if you won't say anything." She felt a bit dumb, but she agreed anyway.

Michael smiled at her and patted her shoulder. He knew this wasn't easy, and he felt a bit foolish to say such a thing, but he didn't want anything to happen. It was so good to be with her again, after all this time. He wanted to make this night a memorable one.  "So!" he started, aiming to change the subject. "What would you like to do now?"

"Mmm, I really have no preference," Lisa answered.  He gave her a bit of a surprised look. "Er, I mean, I'm having such a good time being with you that it doesn't really matter..." She wished that for one moment she could just shut up and think about what she was going to say. She shook her head. "Oh, I'm sorry... ah, what I meant was, could you suggest something?" She gazed at her lap in embarrassment.

Michael looked at his watch. "Well, the night is still young. It's only about 8:30. Do you like to dance?"

"Well, a bit, yes," she said quietly.

"There's a discotheque not too far from here, if you like that sort of thing."

Lisa shrugged her shoulders. "Sounds fine."

"My, you're not very enthusiastic tonight, are you?" he joked. She loved that broad smile of his - the one he had whenever he was teasing her.

"Yes, I'm sorry." She forced an impish grin. "How's this? 'Oh, sounds smashing, darling!!' Better?"

"Now you're getting it!" he giggled. "Ah I see some of the Palin charm is beginning to rub off on you, eh?"

She laughed and smiled at him. He was every bit of the charming sweet young man she'd first met all those years ago.

"Well, off we go!" He turned on the ignition and put the car into gear. As they got near the discotheque, he silently prayed that he wouldn't run into any of the other Pythons for the rest of the night.