Chapter Thirty Seven - The Click of Her Key
The winter passed and spring and summer came. Seiji went through a season of not staying late at the workshop. He'd get home before her most days and sit and worry about their finances, staring at the columns of figures on the laptop. No matter what he did with them they didn't add up. At their present rate they'd be in serious trouble long before the rental income from the Earth Shop started to come in.
One afternoon, one like many others, he sat thinking about the few options they had. There came a noise. The click of her key in the lock. The squeak of the hinges. The clunk of the closing door. The sounds of footsteps in the entryway. The clatter of her sandals as she takes them off. The rustle of bags. Her presence in this place. He smiled to himself They might be heading for financial ruin but at least he could face the worst that the world could throw at him as long as he still had these things.
"I'm back."
"Hi. Good day?"
"Yeah, but, I'm shattered."
"Coffee?"
"Mmm, thanks."
She came through the small kitchen and leaned on the breakfast bar. Seiji looked up from the table, from the rectangular world of the laptop screen. She smiled. Always that smile. He could happily drown in it. The world could end tomorrow as long as he only had that smile. Even shining from an end-of-the-day face, those eyes, those lips always refreshed him.
"I love this time of day," he said.
"It's good to be home."
"I change gear now."
"Hm?"
"You come home. I stop work. Things slow to our pace. Your pace."
"You're so sweet."
She smiled again. The strong August sun was a candle in comparison. Seiji let the energy of that smile lift him up.
He got up and began the latte ritual. Beans into the grinder, milk from the fridge, check the water level in the espresso maker.
"Ugh, I stink. Quick shower."
"Sure."
"That's the one problem with Italy, the summers are so hot. I'll never get used to it."
The girl left her complaint hanging in the air over her shoulder and walked to the bedroom, arms bent up behind her, unzipping her dress as she went.
The milk steamed, he made coffee, got himself one. He stood at the dining area window and watched Cremona doing its early evening thing. Cars honked, trains rattled, people did what people needed to do on the way home. There was just enough to see from the apartment window to call it a view. TV aerials, satellite dishes and chimneys may not be everyone's choice but at least the red spire of the Duomo's torrazzo and some greenery outside the distant Centro Agricolo gave it that little lift that the human soul needed. They had bought a futon and squeezed it into the small lounge for when visitors stayed over. It struck him that that was another unnecessary expense. The lounge doubled as a music room and as her writing den the rest of the time, although when Seiji needed to really play he climbed the fire escape to the flat roof and up there among the pigeons and the washing lines he would sometimes plays for hours, in the dark.
The shower stopped. He couldn't hear her but he imagined her damp bare feet on the tiles leaving small wet marks. He smiled to himself: she never dried herself properly. He'd need to regrout the bedroom tiles soon. He imagined being that floor, the special pleasure of her wet feet touching him, of protecting her bare skin from the old wooden boards beneath.
Even in the silence of her movements he could feel her closer.
"Any mail?"
"Nothing much. Junk mostly. Coffee's on the side."
"Thanks."
"Oh, there was a card. From mom and dad. By the rice maker."
"How are they getting on?"
Seiji turned from the window. She wore only a towel, wrapped carefully round under her armpits the way women do. A hand towel made a turban for her wet hair. He watched her move. As she raised her coffee mug to her lips a glint of light reflected from the wedding band on her finger. How was it possible to love a girl more every day? Each time she came home, every meal, each shopping trip, every phone call spent leaning by the door (he'd sometimes stand and just look at the line of her hip), waking each morning - the curve of her back seeming different each time. Was it possible to go on loving someone like this, the need rising exponentially until one day you thought you'd burst? What caused it? Life here was hardly idyllic. Work at his apprenticeship was a constant heartache, a constant worry that at the end of ten years he might not be good enough. The pay was laughable. If they hadn't married, if she hadn't chosen to come with him, he'd no idea how he would have coped. He'd probably be sleeping in the park each night.
"Seiji? Hello? Cremona calling planet Seiji?"
"Sorry. I was miles away."
"I know. Did your mom say anything more on the phone?" she turned the postcard over, glanced again at the picture of a Buddhist temple.
"Yeah, Kouji is cool about the visit. I think he and dad will sort it all out."
"That's great. I'm so glad. That was a worry for everyone wasn't it?"
"Yeah. Dad's changed a lot since he retired. I'm much more comfortable with him now. He's mellowed out. I think sorting the past out with my brother was just a matter of time. I only hope he doesn't carry on trying to convince him to come home, to go to university."
"Kouji is his own man now, your dad will see that."
"Hmm."
"I'm pleased. How long will your parents be in Thailand?"
"They plan to be with Kouji in Bangkok for two weeks, then its two more weeks in Phuket just chilling I guess."
"They deserve it."
"Yeah, they do."
"Lovely coffee, just hits the spot."
"No problem."
"Becoming quite the native Italian aren't you?"
"And how's the job?"
"Things are finally changing. I asked to be moved. They are sending me to the main tourist information office near the Duomo, where they get most enquiries. My Italian is good now and with all the Japanese, Chinese and Korean visitors I can be most useful there."
"That's great, sounds like you're settling in."
"They're not paying me any more though. So I'm still looking. I'm still enjoying it. I pick up so much, little stories from people, snippets here and there, it's like seeing people's lives in sentences. It's all being stored away in the notebook for future use."
She smiled, that beguiling mischievous animal that came out to play at the corners of her mouth, at her eyes, and that melted his heart every time. He needed to talk to her again about the money but not now. He couldn't face that. Now he just needed her company.
"Did you call Adamo back?" he asked,
She turned and leaned back against the kitchen work surface. Seiji glanced down to where her towelled bottom pressed against the cupboard, he studied the way it changed shape. She cupped her latte in both hands, holding the mug against her chest.
"Oh, yeah, you'll never guess."
"Mmm?"
"That girl he met up with at the millennium party?"
"Not that outrageous goth kid?"
"Lisabet, yes. Well they got engaged."
"No!"
"Yes!"
"She's never his type!"
"No really, he says she's lovely. She's studying at the arts academy, she's a brilliant photographer he says. Apparently he met up with her again in January, at some café somewhere and he didn't even recognize her. The whole Goth thing is just for clubbing, she's a different person by day. Well, apart from the black hair and body piercings…"
"I can't believe it."
"I swear, it's true. Well, you know Adamo, he can never resist a girl like that, a mysterious one who changes from day to night."
"Adamo, can never resist any girl. He thinks with his groin that boy! He had his eye on you once, do you remember?"
"Yes, I remember. When I used to sit and study at the Café Volpi, he'd be round me like a bee at honey. They way he kept touching my arm, my shoulder, asking if I needed anything every five minutes. I thought he was creepy at first."
"But eventually…"
"But eventually I found out that all Italian men are like that. It's just normal here."
She giggled, one hand coming up from her coffee mug to cover her mouth. Seiji let the raindrops of her laughter patter over him.
"Well, it's a story of true love, they spent most of the spring together and now…"
"Wedding bells."
"Well, not yet maybe. But it's great, don't you think?"
"Adamo needs a girl like that, someone to help him settle down. He can't go chasing every girl in Firenze his whole life. What is he now? Twenty-three? He still acts like he's sixteen."
"I'm amazed he changed his mind, he's been committed to not committing himself for so long."
"She must have had a real effect on him."
"So they want us to come round for the celebration. End of this month. It's a grand affair apparently, his father Umberto is organizing a big do at the Hotel Imperio."
"The Imperio? Whew!" Seiji whistles.
"So, do we book a room?"
"Mmmm… we'll need to do our sums on that one."
and then say no, he thought
"Oh, well," she joked, "we could always put up a tent in the gardens."
"That brings the memories back, do you remember?"
"The camp by the Oogurigawa River? When Sugimura burned the onions?"
"How could I forget? The night of our first kiss."
"Oh my God, yes! That was so funny. The girls were so embarrassing, trying to get us together all night. I think even grandpa got a bit annoyed by it."
"But then I surprised everyone…" His voice trailed off.
She looked down at her coffee cup, then up at him again.
"And me as well. One minute they were all messing about, pushing us together and the next you put your arms round me and kissed me. I was so shocked. I just hung there limp like a complete idiot. What a wasted opportunity!"
She smiled at the memory.
"It was a surprise then?" he grinned.
"For everyone! They all went quiet and just stood there watching!"
"But what a kiss, eh? You know, I think that was the night I really grew up."
"It was so embarrassing!"
"You didn't like it?"
"No you jerk! I loved it! You know I did! But maybe you could have picked a time when five other people weren't watching! The next week at school everyone was talking about it! I went through hell, I blushed for days."
"And Yuko's huge tent of her fathers she brought, it had about four rooms. That was great."
"Oh, that was so much fun," she laughed, "Grandpa slept with you and Sugimura in one room while we girls had another all to ourselves. It was great. We brought loads of sweets and snacks and we told stories and stuffed our faces all night long. Poor old Michiko, she was so unwell the next day."
"Serves her right, the junk you lot ate. I remember the next morning, your breath smelled of liquorice and onions."
"Oh! That's horrible! Don't remind me."
"You know, it's nice. Whenever I smell liquorice now it reminds me of our first kiss."
"You're so sweet, you're making my toes curl. But what about the onions?"
"Memory is great, it retains the good things and edits out the bad."
"Heh, you are not going to believe this but I was hungry on the way back from work. I bought a bag of liquorice drops."
He came round the end of the breakfast bar, his face disbelieving.
"You never."
"Hm." She nodded, her grin widening.
"Prove it."
He came close. She parted her lips. He lowered his face to hers, close. Closer. The beautiful flower of her mouth opened before him. Her breath carried that sharp sweet dark mysterious smell.
"Oh yeah… so you did. I wonder if the taste lingers as well…?"
"Why don't you find out?"
Her voice was throaty, a little deeper in tone.
"Only one way to tell, you know."
Seiji opened his mouth a little, tilted his head and touched his lips to hers, pressing, tasting, exploring.
"Mmm…"
She let out a small murmur of pleasure. Seiji placed his coffee mug on the work surface and his hands reached up for the knot on her towel.
Outside the Cremona evening drew down toward dusk, the traffic increased, the lights in the buildings came on but the small appartamento on the Via Versecchi where Seiji and Shizuku lived remained dark.
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9 November 2006
(tweaked the original single chapter stand-alone story to fit into "Other Side" 25 January 2007, 08:35 – 08:40 and 10:20 – 10:45)
For author notes about chapter 37 see my forum (click on my pen name)