Bond meets Moneypenny



Mr Bond


Hello. My name is Bond. Just call me ‘Bond’, for these days this is my only name. Since we last met - you at the movies, me on the set - I have matured and aged into a 60’s something gentleman. Occasionally, women may still glance in my direction in a half-remembered way and struggle to place me; and I still crave the female attention of yesteryear. But life moves on, and with it, we move or wither. 

I am in Buenos Aires. I came here to dance Argentine tango, or at least that is what I tell my friends. Presently, I sit to write to you, my dear reader. But I do dance tango as well, at least occasionally.

And that is how I met Moneypenny.

Arriving at Mariposita de San Telmo tango school, I notice a young, beautiful woman in the arms of a handsome young tangero. They are dancing in close embrace. Their movement is synchronised and effortless as lovers who understand the meaning of connection. As I enter the room, she glances up, just as Moneypenny used to glance up from her desk when I visited M. She smiles, a half smile of acknowledgement, one that carries the reassurance of a welcome.

The principal teacher at Mariposita calls the class to order. We stand around the room, dancers from across the world, of different ages and differing abilities. 

I look across to the floor-to-ceiling mirrors and see a tall, grey haired elderly man dressed in black looking back at me. I avoid his gaze, but each time I glance, he is there. Like me, he struggles with the steps, but eventually masters the best part of them. “All change”, shouts the teacher. This is the point at which we are expected to select a new dance partner to practice our new skill. 

The grey man stands rooted to the spot, but the young, slim, elfin woman I noticed earlier, looks across the room towards him. He hesitates. She is so young and vibrant, radiating an energy that affects the room. For a second time she smiles and walks purposely towards him. “Hello, who are you?....Are you Mr Bond?”, she says with a teasing girlish laugh. “You must be Moneypenny?”, I reply, feeling vaguely stupid, but flattered. She lifts her arms for an embrace. “Well, let’s get on with it”, she adds. And we dance. A first dance. A moment that spans a generation, two continents, two different reasons to be in Buenos Aires. But it shares a communality of tango.

This was the moment that Bond meets Moneypenny in Buenos Aires. It is the start of a tale that will take them, and you the reader if you choose to stay, on a journey through time, place, different experience, fun - and perhaps a sadness of that we do not yet know.

But settle in, stay with the narrative, and enjoy the ride. For you never know where it may lead.

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