oldestcharm

"I heard he died," a girl nearby in the crowd whispers.

"Rubbish, does he look dead to you?" her friend whispers back just as loud.

"A little. Look at the bags under his eyes. Definitely one foot in the grave."

"I don't know, I kind of dig that look. Sort of..."

"Wraithlike?"

"I was going to say intoxicating but I think they're synonyms."

"Like hell! I'm getting you a new dictionary for your birthday."

"Fine. But you can't deny his appeal."

"What appeal? He's dryer than plaster."

"Oh, like that wall of yours? Don't even try to deny it. I've seen those newspaper clippings — you hardly put in all that effort because you find him particularly offensive."

"Well, alright. Maybe there's some appeal," the first girl acquiesces. "It's not my fault he's the most sensible politician around."

"Sure. You like him for his policies."

"I like him for his policies..." She clears her throat. "And he doesn't sound too bad when they have him on the radio."

"I knew it!" her friend says almost gloatingly.

Rebecca bites back a smile and peers at the subject of the girls' conversation behind her clipboard. Impressively, he's managed to keep a straight face but there is a very faint flush on his cheeks, something that anyone less familiar with him could probably dismiss as a healthy glow.

Rebecca knows better. After all, the girls are both right in their observation — while John Mandrake is infinitely charming, Nathaniel looks to be haunted.