UNCERTAINTIES
Author: drake
Dated: 4 March 2003
Summary: This story is based on 'No Night is Too Long', a movie made from the book, same title, by Barbara Vine. For a synopsis of this movie read my other fanfic 'A Second Chance'. This story is Ivo's point of view on his first encounters with Tim.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Ruth Rendell, a.k.a. Barbara Vine, ….lucky her.
Feedback: Very welcome, o5o72oo3@hotmail.com.
********
Have you ever had this happen to you?
You are in a lift with one other person, whom you don't know. Unexpectedly, and without provocation on your part, this person raises their hand to your cheek, caressing it?
Normally, I would answer 'no'…until recently.
It's now New Year's Eve, nearly two weeks later. And I find myself in my car, on the road to Nunthorpe to see this person, who, by the way, doesn't know I'm coming. Needless to say, I'm wondering if I'm making a bloody fool of myself.
Let us start at the beginning of this tale. Actually, to do this properly, I shall begin with introductions.
My name is Ivo Steadman, a paleontologist professor at Plymouth University. I am 32 years old, single, and gay. I only mention my sexual orientation because the person in the lift with me was male. Therefore, if I have any concerns about what happened, his gender is definitely not one of them. The concern I do have is that he approached me at all, and in such a fashion. What gave him the impression that I would welcome his caress? As far as I know, my orientation is not apparent and I prefer that it not be. Do not misunderstand me, I would never deny being gay if anyone were to ask me. I only want that I'm not defined by it.
As it is, I'm defined by my work. If you observe me for some time, you'd see that my days are filled with teaching at the university, attending and giving lectures, and going on work-related expeditions. Occasionally, I research and write articles for science-related magazines. Ultimately, you'd conclude that I'm a workaholic with no social life to speak of. And, you'd be right.
Another person might be bothered by this type of life, 'all work and no play', as the Americans like to say, but I'm not. I enjoy my life. I have a job I really enjoy. I meet many interesting people, with similar interests to mine, and travel to fascinating locations.
As for a romantic life, at the moment, I have no time for one. Yes, I know that the lack of time is a poor excuse, but I don't feel the need for a relationship. Occasionally, I venture into the local gay pub for a change of pace. Either I leave after one drink, by myself, or I leave with someone whom I know I will not see again.
A few years back, things were very different for me. During my post-graduate studies, I became involved with a fellow student, William O'Neill. Our relationship progressed quickly. We moved into a flat together and everything seemed to be going well. Until, I discovered he was seeing someone else. I lived with that knowledge until I couldn't bear it any longer. We had a row and attempted to work it out, but the damage had been done. At the time of our breakup, we had been together nearly four years. Getting over William was hard, but once I did, I threw myself into my studies and my work. Admittingly, I've been there ever since.
Anyway, it's time to get back to the tale at hand, don't you think?
**********
It was a few days before end of term. After completing research in the library, I walked through the campus grounds to return to my office located in the Science Building. I entered the lift along with a few students. Just as the doors were closing, he came in. He being my would-be assailant. If he hadn't run in the lift, nearly missing it, I doubt I would have noticed him. After several stops with people getting on and off, he and I were left alone.
Still paying no attention to him, I occupied myself with watching the floor numbers, listed over the doors. Through the corner of my eye, I noticed this stranger was looking at me. I didn't return the look since I wasn't sure what to make of it. He made no attempt to conceal his action.
Although, I wondered what he might want, I continued to look ahead, pretending not to notice. And waited.
Soon, I could hear his breathing getting heavier; I noticed how anxious he was. Why was he still watching me?
Without saying anything, he raised his right hand to my face, caressing my cheek with the back of his fingers.
I did the only thing I could think of doing. I moved to stand in front of him, my face merely two inches from his. I looked into my assailant's eyes, assuring myself I hadn't misread his advance. He stood there, breathing heavily, very nervous, and waiting for me to make the next move. I assumed he had exhausted his courage with that caress. His eyes, although hesitant, gave me permission to do what I did next. I leaned in the remaining two inches and kissed him...and he kissed me. The kiss was slow, gentle. I could feel his breath on my lips as I slowly pulled away. His eyes were unfocused and his mouth remained open.
The moment had been brief, too brief, but very intoxicating. I could barely think properly, and somehow my hearing sensed the lift's doors opening. Looking at him one last time, I turned and walked out. I went directly to my office and sat down at my desk.
Wow!
I waited for my heart rate to return to normal. Then sat there recalling what had just occurred. The look on his face after our kiss was sublime.. He had been as overwhelmed as was I. His breath shallow. I wonder if his knees weakened as mine had.
Let's say, without comparison, the rest of my day had been uneventful. If it weren't for a couple of appointments with students, I would have accomplished nothing.
As mentioned before, in the romance area I lead a rather uneventful life. Therefore, this sort of occurrence tends to stand out for me. It tends to make me want to re-evaluate a few things, …like perhaps I should use lifts more often.
Realizing I'd get no more work done, I decided to go home. My mind had obviously taken a leave of absence and the only thing to do was give into it. I was disgusted with myself, at letting a trivial event get the better of me.
Once at home, I poured myself a glass of wine and sat down in an armchair, turning on the lamp next to it. I sipped a bit of wine, leaned my head back on the chair, and closed my eyes. Within a moment, I was recalling the look in his eyes, and the taste and feel of his lips. They were very soft and gentle, allowing my lips to control the kiss. I could almost feel his breath again on my face, sending a shiver down my spine. I remembered how intense the moment had been. Amazingly, not one word had been uttered. Honestly, what could we have said…'Hello'?
I needed more wine.
While refilling my glass, I began wondering if I would see him again. Would I ever find out why he did what he did? Was I that irresistible? Or is it a strange fancy of his to kiss strangers in lifts? No, wait. …I was the one to kiss him. Then, is it a fancy of his to caress strangers' faces? And why had he been so nervous? Had he intended to ask me out?
Into my third glass of wine, I wondered why I was making such a fuss. I should forget it and move on. Whoever he is got his thrill and I got mine.
On the other hand, I wondered if I wanted to see him again. If yes, to what purpose? He's so much younger then myself, maybe by ten years, and he's a student at the University. Did I want to deal with the issues associated with this? Plus, I was under the impression that I wasn't looking for a relationship, what happened.
**********
The following day, I returned to the university to finish the work I should have taken care of the day before, which was to review the final assignments for this term. Only two days remained before the holiday break, therefore, I had a lot of marking to complete. I went in early to get a head start and by late morning, I congratulated myself for having accomplished a good part of the work. I'd put yesterday's incident behind me and managed to keep my mind on matters that were more important.
That's when he appeared at my door, asking to be let in.
"Sorry, …it was open. I wasn't sure if I should…"
For a moment, I just looked at him, not believing he was there. I'd forgotten how beautiful he was. I tried to look un-phased by his presence, when in reality, my heart rate quickened, and my stomach tightened. I was also grateful to be sitting down.
"You can come in."
"Thanks." I could hear a bit of uncertainty in his voice.
"What are you listening to?" Here was my attempt at being un-phased. I was surprised I sounded so calm.
"Oh, it's mm, just a bit of opera."
"Which one?"
"Rosenkavalier."
"I don't know it."
"Oh, it's good. …It's got some nice tunes. …It's great to kind of get lost in." He walked further into the room as he said this.
While we spoke, I continued marking the assignment, using the time to regain control of myself. I didn't want him to know what effect he had on me. Yet. The initial surprise of his visit had worn off and I could stop relying on my work, giving him my full attention. However, I needed a fag to keep my hand busy and offered him one.
"No, thank you."
"Do you have a light?"
"Yeah, yeah I've got some…"
I took the opportunity to look at him, while he searched through his pockets. He was without doubt beautiful. Handsome was not a word I could have used to describe him. He wore the carefree fashion that is popular today with people his age. He also had an air of innocence, like when he averted his eyes after he saw me watching him. He probably knew how attractive he was, which would give him the confidence he'd need to approach me again. Or was that pure arrogance. Whatever.
He found the matchbook in the back pocket of his jeans and proceeded to ignite the match. When he reached over to light my fag, I noticed his hand shaking a bit. I peered over his hand looking directly into his eyes. He didn't look away this time but kept contact with me as he blew out the match. I must remind myself to have him light my fag again, that is if the opportunity ever arises. Watching him blow out the match sent a shiver down my spine.
I was very aroused by him. This wasn't good. I needed to control my hormones, had to stay levelheaded. I had a good idea what he wanted from me but I couldn't allow it. Already too much had happened between us. I had too many reasons against letting this happen. For me, it couldn't be just about sex. I wasn't interested in that alone. Knowing this and believing it wholeheartedly was one thing. But having this beautiful boy in front of me, offering himself to me was another.
"So, how can I help you? Have you decided to take up paleontology?"
"Why were you spying on me the other night?"
"I wasn't."
"Yes, you were. You were standing at the window and you were watching me with my girlfriend."
I recalled what he referred to. The other night, late at work and needing to stretch my legs, I stood at my window looking down onto the concourse. I observed a couple talking and being quite affectionate. The man had seen me watching and for some reason, I didn't look away. Neither did he. Although his face wasn't visible, something about him kept me rooted in place. After a moment, I pulled away and returned to my desk.
I'd since forgotten about it and only now realized that the man in the concourse was the same man in front of me. Then I remembered that he had been with a woman, which brought me back to what he had just said.
"Your girlfriend?"
"Yeah, one of them."
"How many have you got?" Was he boasting? Either way, this news surprised me. I assumed he was gay from our encounter in the lift. This might explain why he had been so nervous. Could I be the first man he's ever approached?
If this was true, then it re-enforced my doubts about involving myself with him. I was already concerned about his age, and him being a student. Now I would have to contend with him dealing with his sexuality.
"Why did you do that?"
"Why did you follow me into the lift?"
A moment passed where it became obvious that our questions would not be answered. He abandoned this tactic and moved onto another subject. Sitting on the edge of my desk, he picked up one of the fossilized rocks I kept there.
"Is this the kind of thing that you study?"
"One of them. ...That's about 250 million years old." He quickly looked at me in amazement…Hmm… I'd impressed him.
I took the stone from him, carefully caressing his fingers with mine, feeling the warmth and softness of his skin. I smiled at him and the look he gave me in return said he enjoyed the touch as much as I did. He became flirtatious. I wondered if he knew how affective he was. I will not deny how much I was enjoying every moment of this but I continued to play it cool. Flirting back at him somewhat. It was taking a huge toll on the part of me that was attempting to be sensible about his.
"Where did you get it?"
"Alaska."
"Wow, Alaska. What were you doing there?"
"Lecturing." His questions made me want to laugh because it was obvious he wasn't interested in what went on in Alaska but I answered him nonetheless. "They have cruises there for people who are interested in that sort of thing…"
It grew quiet. For a while, we looked at one another, saying nothing. He smiled at me, playfully. His eyes were daring me to make a move. Could he read the expression in my eyes? Could he see how very close I was to pulling him down to me, kissing him? It wouldn't be gentle or slow as our first embrace had been. Hungry, yes. Forceful, yes. My tongue forcing itself into his mouth. Tasting him, his skin. Stopping only for breath. Was he aware of any of this?
With images like this going through my head, I found it hard to think straight. Nevertheless, I urged myself to concentrate on my workload and its related deadline and sobered immediately.
"…Anyway, I've got a stack of work, so if there's nothing I can do for you." I knew I was putting him off by saying this.
"Right, …I'll be off then." Just as I'd thought.
"Yeah."
"Yeah."
Just as he reached the door to leave, I called to him, "By the way."
"What?" I saw hope in his face.
"Happy Christmas." It wasn't what he wanted to hear. He left without saying another word.
I stared at the empty doorway for a moment wondering if I'd done the right thing by brushing him off. What harm would it have done, really? We would have fucked once, maybe a few times and then we'd go our separate ways. No attachments and no different from any other pickup I've had in the past.
But I already knew there was one difference. The way he made me feel was different. I hadn't felt this excited and alive in a very long time, not since William. The amazing part...I didn't know his name. I only knew he was a student. And I assumed he knew my name since he knew where to find me.
He'll be in the concourse by now.
That thought woke me from my reverie. I walked over to the window and found him in seconds. He was just coming out of the lift. The very same lift.
I watched him stop a few feet outside the lift. He lowered his head and remained like that for a long moment, pensive. Was he contemplating whether to come back? He slowly turned his head looking right at me. Our eyes locked. Had he sensed that I was at the window looking down at him? This reminded me of the last time I stood here looking down at him and he looking back at me, mesmerized. Although this time, I knew who I was looking at and understood why I couldn't stop watching him.
A smile grew on his face. It seemed to say that whatever there was between us wasn't over yet. I nodded back at him. Just as I thought he might return, he walked off heading towards the exit. I was somewhat disappointed but I knew it was the right move.
Just as he reached the revolving doors, someone caught his attention. A woman. I didn't know her name but I recognized her to be a Teacher's Assistant in the English Department. While she spoke, she smiled at him, laughed at something he'd said, and even touched his arm with her hand. She obviously fancied him. He smiled and laughed with her, but I could tell the attraction wasn't mutual, which meant she wasn't a girlfriend of his. I was surprised at how relived this made me.
They concluded their conversation and he left.
I realized I was presented with an opportunity to find out his name. I ran down to speak with the T.A. I couldn't believe I was being this impulsive.
She gave me a quizzical look and asked why a Science Professor wanted the name of a student from the English Department. Since it was not her business, I lied and said that I had something belonging to him.
"Well, whatever. His name is Tim Cornish."
I don't know how casual I seemed to her but inside I was elated. After thanking her for the help, I quickly returned to my office.
"Tim Cornish." I repeated the name half a dozen times before reaching my desk, so that I wouldn't forget, of course.
Being a member of the faculty had many advantages. Here was a chance to use one of them by contacting the Administration Office and asking for information on a student. Within one hour, I held a facsimile page containing basic background information on the student I'd encountered the day before on a lift of all places.
I learned he was a full-time student, in his last year of a 3-year English Literature program. I'd guessed right about his age, he was 22 years old, exactly 10 years younger then myself. His home address and next of kin were also listed.
I laughed at myself for being so ridiculous; acting like a smitten schoolgirl. However, he wasn't like the men that approached me at the pub. And my attraction to him was unlike what I felt before. Somehow, the outcome to this encounter mattered.
I shook my head, folded the paper with Tim Cornish's information, and placed it in my coat pocket.
"I can't put work off any longer."
**********
My sister Isabel and I live on two different sides of the Atlantic Ocean. Her marriage to Kit relocated her to Vancouver, Canada. We communicate every chance we get and take turns visiting one another at holidays. This Christmas I flew out to visit her and Kit. I arrived a few days prior to Christmas and stayed for a week, returning yesterday.
We may be physically apart, but emotionally, we are very close. Growing up, we shared everything. It's a side affect of being twins. Therefore, I've known for a while that she suffers a bad marriage with Kit who is continually unfaithful to her. Her reason for enduring this is that he always returns to her, "Ivo, I know down deep he loves me." All I can do is support her decision to stay and be there for her when he leaves the next time. Equally, she knows how busy my life is and that I lack a boyfriend. A fact she never lets me forget.
We managed to have some alone time once the Christmas festivities were over. We sat in the parlor sharing the couch and a pot of tea. I wasn't surprised when she asked me the name of the person who seemed to have all my attention. She explained that several times she observed me staring at nothing in particular with a grin on my face. I was embarrassed by that description but I couldn't deny what was true.
Without hesitation, I described every detail of my encounters with Tim. What happened in the lift, and what words we shared in my office. I told her of the looks he gave me, and how he made me feel. What he looked like and what I'd found out about him. As well, I explained why I thought it was a bad idea to pursue the relationship, no matter how much I wanted it.
Isabel sat there and listened to everything, like I knew she would. She only asked a few questions about this and that, otherwise sat quietly.
"You're still thinking about him?" She said after a moment of silence between us.
"I can't stop thinking about him." I admitted.
"Then dear brother, I see only one choice for you." I looked up from my tea and found her smiling at me. I knew what she was going to say.
"You need to forget about these concerns you have and relish the moment for what it is."
"You make it sound so easy."
"Isn't it?"
"No…maybe yes. But…"
"But what? He is obviously attracted to you. He's approached you twice, providing you with some excitement, something I envy you for. Enjoy it. If not for you, then for me."
"Mm-mm."
"You're humoring me. Ivo, I don't believe that you're concerned about his age or about him being a student."
"What do you mean?"
"If you were truthful with yourself, you'd admit that you miss being in a relationship. You miss being in love and caring for someone special. You'll deny it but we both know you enjoy going home to someone special, and sharing things with him. There's nothing wrong in admitting this. Dear, the dating scene has never been for you. It offers nothing permanent. It doesn't fill the void that's in you."
I wasn't comfortable hearing this.
"This boy, as you call him, is making you feel things that you haven't felt since William."
I raised my head at the mention of his name. Isabel knew that I still thought of him. She knew what I'd gone through; she had been there when it happened. Isabel was the only person I told of William's affair. I didn't want to think about him now and happily she said nothing more about it.
"You said it yourself, you feel alive. He's all that you think about. What you see in his eyes and what you feel in yourself reminds you of what you once had. You miss it, very much. It gives you hope for the possibility of a relationship. And that scares you. …Ivo?"
"Yes?" Afraid of what else she had to say.
"How will you know if there can be anything more with this person, if you don't give it a chance?" She waited for a response.
"Let me ask you one thing, since you seem to know me so well…" Of course she did but I teased her anyway. "What do I do if nothing comes of this?"
"Easy. Have your fun with him. Afterwards, call me with every detail."
I almost dropped my teacup. I looked at her and broke out laughing. I really needed this. It felt so good to laugh. Only Isabel could relax me like this.
"I'm making too much of this, aren't I?"
"Mm-mm."
"Tell me, dear sister. What do you suggest I do? Should I return to school looking for an opportunity to find him alone in a lift and continue what he started?"
"Knowing that you're stalking lifts in the hopes of picking up a boy would be entertaining but not the right thing to do. Why not call him?"
"I might do that." I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you. As always, you know exactly what to say."
"Now, if I can only sort out my own life." She smiled but I knew it was superficial.
"Do you want some advice?"
"No. I know what you're going to say."
"And…"
"I'm not ready yet. It doesn't feel right to leave him."
"What does feel right?"
"Sitting here with my favorite brother's arms around me." She looked up at me with eyes pleading for me to change the subject. She wanted me to drop the subject. What else could I do? Only Isabel would know when she'd be ready. Presently, they seemed to be doing well but already she took account of several unexplained absences.
"I can do that for you…being your only brother." She gave me a weak smile and leaned into my arms.
We sat there in a silence until she pulled away but only enough to look me right in my eyes.
"You're thinking of him right now, aren't you?"
"Yes." That started us off. We broke out laughing while in each other's arms, and stayed that way.
**********
As soon as I arrived home yesterday, I took care of several tedious errands, such as unpacking my belongings, doing the laundry, and a general clean up of the apartment. Then I went out and purchased the furnishings to a meal for one.
I was very excited to be home. Talking to Isabel had given me the confidence I needed to contact the man I'd become so infatuated with. I'd decided that telephoning him wouldn't be enough. What would we say? We had such an odd start that I felt we were beyond general conversation. I also realized the start of term was in a week's time. How would I last a week?
Since I didn't think I could, I decided to be as forward as he had and appear at his doorstep. Yes, I realized he lived several hours away. Yes, I knew there would be a chance he would not be there. And yes, I knew he might not want to see me.
Not one of my best plans. I knew that too.
**********
I'm here...in Nunthorpe. It's a beautiful place. Although, I've never visited it before, I know of it. Nunthorpe is where the international music festival takes place. Music lovers from all over the world come here to take part in it.
None of that interests me right now. I'm focused on a two-story house situated in the middle of several other similar styled homes and directly across from where I am. I'm leaning against the man-made water barrier, approximately one hundred yards from this house; the house of Tim Cornish.
I could lie and say that I'm standing here looking for signs of anyone being at home. Truthfully, I'm thinking it over one last time. There is still a part of me that wants to return home, return to the life I know.
I've never been this insecure before. I'm normally very confident and well in control of my surroundings. Right now, I have no control of anything. Once I knock on his door, anything can happen. He may not be there. This, of course, would be the easiest issue to resolve. He may not be available to see me, since he mentioned having several girlfriends. Which begs the question, how gay is he? Lastly, is he interested in seeing me again? There is so much uncertainty, yet here I am.
It's been nearly 10 minutes. No sign of anyone being at home, which means nothing really. Well, since I'm cold and probably starting to look suspicious standing here, I'd better get moving. It is time to make a fool of myself. Is this not something we all endeavor to do at least once in our life?
I've just rung the buzzer. No sounds are coming from the inside.
Oh no. After all the thought and debate I put into coming here, not once did I wonder what to say to him when I saw him. How do I explain being in Nunthorpe, several hours from my own home? 'I was just passing by…'. 'I was in the neighbourhood…'. Neither would work.
I rang the buzzer again.
I could hear someone coming and within seconds, he opened the door.
He was surprised to see me but a smile grew on his face. It sent shivers down my spine and assured me that I was welcomed. I was so relieved. All my concerns were gone. None of my worries mattered.
I leaned against the doorframe for support and said the only thing that came to mind, "Happy New Year".