Soren texted. He left messages on her mobile phone and her office phone asking to see her. Apologising. He emailed. He even wrote a note and handed it to the receptionist for her office box and an additional one under her office door. He was persistent but Jane did not answer him.
He left chocolates on her welcome mat and made a cd of Jamie Woon for her and left it in her mailbox.
Still she did not answer him.
Jane and Sally rounded the corner on their way to D block just as Sam, Mick and Soren were about to round the corner, very nearly colliding. The girls giggled and apologised, as did the guys. Apologise, not giggle.
They said hello and continued on the way. But the damage was done. It was a shot through the heart, Soren locked eyes with Jane longingly, only for a moment.
A week went by.
Another text: 'Jane. I miss you. Please, I want to see you. We'll talk.'
This made Jane think very hard, even reconsider seeing him again.
Jane put the phone down. The call duration said 13:41. Her student had needed assistance with a number of delicate personal issues finishing with a recommendation to switch from full-time study to half-time. That would give her more time for the essays and alleviate the pressure from the required reading. The day could only get better. She was going to dinner with a friend in North London that night. She thought of Soren. He lived in North London. She would go and see him. To tell him she was sorry for how she had ended it but that she couldn't teach and go out with him. It was not permitted.
She thanked her host for the meal and feigned fatigue in order to leave the party early.
Jane pulled up outside of 83 Virginia Avenue. It was beautiful house, perfect deep green lawn, leafy-green trees, some striking dark pink blooms on the shrubs lining the path to the door. Jane wondered again how Soren afforded this house in this suburb after working only 3 years part-time as a financial analyst. What did he analyse? What did he buy and sell? Did he advise others? Jane didn't know but he was obviously intelligent enough to avoid the economic collapse and the companies who went bankrupt.
Jane rang the bell, rehearsing what she was going to say to Soren once they had sat down. The sound of the inner wooden door opened inwards, spilling light out onto her.
'Jane.' Soren greeted her.
'That's not your car in the driveway?' Jane spoke without thinking as Soren also opened the screen door outwards.
'It's Jeff's, my housemate. His girlfriend picked him up, he's out.' He stepped back so that she could come through the threshold.
Soren had been doing push ups on his lounge room floor and answered the door without a shirt.
'You're not wearing a shirt.' Jane stated, suddenly transfixed by his chest which was very athletic and well-defined.
She looked up at him. Daring him.
Quick. He had to. Before he thought twice.
She tasted of chocolate. Biscuity chocolate. But he didn't really notice that. He notices the way her lips and her body were responding to him.
He stopped the kiss to look at her. Her brown eyes sparkling under the light, her dark blue suede coat encapsulating her. She wore it like a shield. He pulls her scarf undone slowly.
'Take your hair out,' he ordered her.
She smiled up at him in question and then complied. He kissed her once again and then went to step back but she followed him, continuing the kiss. Her hands went from his face to his shoulders.
They came up for air. Breathless. The lust satiated for now.
'Put on a shirt.' Jane advised him.
'Can I get you a drink?' Soren offers.
Jane asks for hot water so Soren puts on the kettle and heads to his room to locate a shirt and hoodie.
They talked for an hour about their respective weeks, about graduation coming up, exchanging stories. They go deeper and discuss music, film, and literature.
A dog barks outside and Jane looks at the clock which reads 10.18pm.
Soren wonders if THE TALK is coming. Where Jane will set boundaries.
She soon raises it. Jane tells him he needs to slow down.
'You can't kiss me anywhere and anytime you like. We need boundaries.'
'I can slow down,' he promises.
'I suggest we don't see each other until graduation.'
Graduation is 9 days away. Soren shudders.
They say goodnight.
In the library, Soren was researching the personhood of Christ when his phone lit up.
Jane Prescott: 'Are you still carpooling to Cardiff for the Conference? Do you have a spare seat'
Soren replied: 'I thought you were going with Ian and Lara?'
Jane: 'They want to leave a day early and do a side-trip.'
Soren: 'Sam & Anna are going with Mick. You and I can go together. I can drive?'
Jane: 'Okay. Thanks.'
Soren was desperate for more details but he thought-twice and allowed Jane to initiate the arrangements, not wanting to be too bossy. The conference was 3 hours away. He was going with Jane! That's alone together for 3 hours plus rest breaks! He could scarcely conceal his excitement as he skipped to the train station, listening to the radio blasting Deadmau5.
The drive.
Soren offers to drink out of London and asked Jane if she felt like driving. The idea of Jane driving his car was very sexy.
Bruno Mars's Locked out of Heaven was on the radio. How fitting, Soren thought.
'It's only 3 hours,' Jane pointed out.
'Stop. Revive. Survive.' Soren quoted the road safety add with the deep-voiced announcer. He gives Jane a quizzical look as he waits for an opening in the traffic.
'We'll see how we go.' Is that flirting? Soren wonders as they pull onto the road.
For a few minutes Jane checks her messages in silence – apart from the soft radio – and Soren is beginning to think he has done something wrong just as she drops it into her handbag on the floor.
'Were you born here?' Jane enquired.
'I was born in Denmark and we arrived here when I was 6.'
'So do you speak Danish?'
'Yes, but my vocab is not very large. A native speaker would spot me instantly.'
The cabin is completely black beside from the faint dashboard markings. There is almost no point in glancing over to her as they talk because she is encased in darkness. With the exception of the rare oncoming traffic now that they are speeding along the motor way. They continue to converse. Soren proves to be a very good listener, sensitive and self-aware. Jane forgets the drama of the past 2 weeks and relaxes into the trip.
With just over a predicted hour to go, Soren suggests a pit stop to stretch their legs. They pull up outside a small park with a bridge over a man-made creek. The ground is littered with fallen red and yellow leaves.
He's tempted to kiss her as soon as the car is stopped and his seatbelt is off but her micro-expressions have discouraged him.
They use the respective amenities and Soren walks the length of the park and surveys the cricket cages.
Soren holds out his keys, his eyes engaging, a playful smile on his lips.
Jane fastens her seatbelt and adjusts the seat in a little closer. 'You're legs are longer than mine.'
She checks the mirrors and then signals to pull out. Her hands run over the wheel expertly as her foot hits the pedal. 'I'm glad it's not a manual,' she tells him. 'So many guys feel the need to drive a manual. Why buy old technology?'
They arrive at Cardiff's Conference Centre late Friday night. They're greeted by the office team who hand them maps and keys. Soren assists Jane with her bag and they find their respective rooms: Jane with Sally and Soren with Mick. In different wings. Soren doesn't know if Jane has told Sally about them so he waves a friendly 'Goodnight' and departs without familiarity.
Soren waits quietly with a cup of tea alongside Mick, surveying the room and the view beyond as the attendees emerge for breakfast. As usual, Jane is surrounded by friends, faculty amongst them, and Soren keeps his distance.
The conference kicks into full swing and – as Soren concedes that his company won't be sought in public - they sit apart in the main sessions and attend different elective streams. He tries not to feel sorry for himself and throws himself into the Ministry material, even finding some of it stimulating.
He pens a note to Jane on a slip of paper, and folds it in 4.
At 1pm, Jane's group is released after Soren's who has already begun tucking into the pasta. He wished she would join him, sit across from him, they could chat about the streams they just attended. His hope was in vain. She took a seat at the far end of the room, chatting and laughing with Sally.
As a few of them get up to leave and form a queue to deposit their cups and glasses, Soren steps in behind Jane and slips the note into her jacket pocket before falling back into conversation with Harry. She doesn't turn around.
It's not until 3pm that Jane absently reaches into her pocket and discovers the note. It reads. 'I need to see you. Meet me outside, under the map of Europe when the band finishes tonight.' Jane smiles and puts the note away.
In the afternoon break, the band is rehearsing the evening's entertainment. Soren recognises his friend who's on lead guitar. Jane and Sally have collected a cuppa from the kitchen and are making their way back to the lounge room when Jane sees Soren talking with the band. Jane waits for Soren who soon comes over to her.
'Hi.'
'Hi. What was that about?' Jane asks.
'That's Ben Drysdale on lead-guitar, we have a mutual friend and played a couple of times last year. The sax player just phoned in sick. He asked me to join them, I'm going to get my trumpet.' He grinned and headed for the carpark.
Following dinner, chairs were set up in the hall again and most people sat or stood around, enjoying the blues/jazz/electronic sounds of the band. Ben (on lead-guitar) announced the members of the band.
'On the drums we have my friend Paul 'Bevo' Beveridge who needs no introduction. You might have heard him on the radio with JupiterRising. On the guitar and vocals we have Dan Beaton, who is also a ring-in tonight. And on the trumpet, the kid from Denmark but we are claiming him as one of our own, Soren Nyborg!' a few cheers ring out. Jane can't help smiling as Soren toots his trumpet in response. They are a talented band, even taking requests until they reach the end of their set at about 10.30pm – because there are more lectures in the morning.
Soren assists with packing up the leads and equipment and then skips out on the band (who are probably going to have a beer) to meet Jane who is waiting for him, looking out at the distance lights. It's a lovely mild autumn night. The ground is littered with fallen leaves. The romance of the scene does not escape him.
'Hi.'
'Hi.' They both wait as the sound of chatting and laughter advances and then moves away. All is quiet.
'How are you enjoying the conference?' Soren opens.
'It's great! I'm so glad I came. I especially loved the Recruiting and Training module. Robert Derley is a wealth of experience.'
'I went to Faithfulness. I'm going to Social Media and Ministry tomorrow.'
'Oh, that sounds good, I want to do that. I'll have to get the notes because it's on the same time as Leadership.'
'I thought the hour on safe ministry was a little excessive,' Soren criticises.
'Why? It's a very important area. Especially in light of recent events in the news.'
His eyes roam over her skirt as he contemplates taking her hand and leading her back to his room.
He opens his mouth to suggest something but closes it again.
Jane shifts her feet and grasps the railing, breaking eye contact.
She lowers her voice. 'Why don't you go out with a girl your own age?'
'Because I'm not interested in girls. I want you.' Jane's legs quiver.
Without regard to who might catch a glimpse of them, Soren defiantly steps in close and with his fingers raises her chin up to him.
Jane tells him goodnight.
-
Jane joins Lara and Ian for breakfast.
Ian goes to collect some coffee and is caught in a conversation.
'It's like I've woken up,' Jane tells Lara. 'From sleep-walking.'