Chapter 52
The night proved to be long for Terry, Christian and Candy. The minutes felt heavy, as heavy as the thoughts were inside their minds. The ticking of the clock disguised as question marks and full stops. The time counted backwards and the day Terry would draw a line to whatever expectations he had when he set foot in London was becoming all the more visible.
His presence, he may not have known it, but had turned Candy's life around and over. Years ago, when she had become a stowaway on that cargo ship from Southampton to New York, barely an adult herself, following him and her own dreams, she had heard the tales of the seamen from their travels, things their eyes had witnessed.
Even if the oceans and the seas of the world were all made by water, sometimes they didn't mix. A line, visible to the eye stood were they met. Currents clashed with violence and the waters turned wild, waves would come from any direction, make them the most dangerous places for a boat to navigate through.
That was where she stood. Between two seas. Each with their own underwater currents, their own separate pasts. She shared her past with one and her presence with the other. For Terry she was Candy. For Christian she was Rose. She had tasted from both their kisses and had taken her to separate journeys. Her heart had been enchanted by both men. They had stolen her thoughts, her sleep.
She had felt free with Christian for the first time in her life. And it was an intoxicating feeling. Like a drug she kept asking for him. There was calmness in her heart when she was inside his arms. She could do no wrong by him. There were no rules. She could let her heart dictate her actions, whether it was a connection she was after, or just lust. She lived inside his world and that world was just as fluid and colourful his palette was.
And then there was Terry. Her past. The love that had marked her. He had forced her to face her feelings for him. Passion was nesting inside his eyes. He was brooding, demanding, possessive. With him, there were no half measures. When he gave himself to something, he did so without restraints. It was evident in his craft, how he melted inside his role on the stage. He was unpredictable, with moods that could change as fast as the passing of the clouds on a sky dominated by gale force winds. Every fibre in her body was on edge when he was close to her.
Christian's secrets bothered her. According to Terry, he was even dangerous to be around. Terry, on the other hand, if it didn't work with him...how she could survive a break up second time around. She wouldn't, she was certain for it. Once burned, twice shy.
That was Candy, on that particular night, with all the thoughts in her mind, carried on the smoke of the cigarette she kept between her fingers. Having both men in her life, she knew it was impossible. The seas would not mix. And she stood between them, risking to let herself drown.
There were sighs. Tossing and turnings. Eyes looking outside the windows. Burning holes on the walls. Both men having the same woman on their minds. Each posing like a cloud in the other's mind.
Christian had sussed out who Terry was and while he kept it still a secret from Rose, he didn't let a moment pass when he would make blatantly clear to Terry that Rose was with him now, she had chosen him, it was him that made her happy, she had moved on, couldn't he see? Under other circumstances, Terry would have beaten him unconscious - that much intense his feelings were for Christian - but this would also be the surest way to make Candy hate him and lose her for good. The days he just resorted to violence and liquor, he wanted to believe he had left behind, though the present circumstances were testing his restraint in a serious way.
Was it unexpected for Christian to find who Terry was for Rose? It most definitely was, though on hindsight, all the signs were there. The fight he had with her, had unnerved him, it had to be said. He came back at his home. It felt empty and quieter for his liking. To think that only a couple of weeks ago he had asked her to break up with him. That was without counting the number of times he thought she would have been better without him. But she was willing to fight for what they had. He owed her the same. Why then he felt a dread spilling its dark colours inside his blood, making it look like as black as the charcoal he traced with the drawing paper at near dawn? Through a hazy tobacco laden air and a booze flavoured breath he sketched her furiously. With an urgency of her image risking to turn into smoke inside his mind at any moment, his hand moved on the paper with feverish speed. Her body lying on the grass at the Grantchester Meadows, gracing him with those big wide smiles of hers that made him feel like he was the only man existing for her. She was his Jinny for the night. Asking her of three wishes before she disappeared. His breath quickened. The dread wasn't dissipating. Instead it choked him. Soon his hand gave up. Three wishes. If he had three wishes...easy. Take Graham out of her heart - let Raven die and make Rose say...
The morning came through the veil of a summer fog. It found Christian having fallen asleep on the table. Drawings of Rose scattered around him the witnesses from his drunk delirium a few hours ago. Not that his body let him forget. It punished him with a splitting headache. The worst wasn't though his physical ailments. It was the remorse he felt over what had happened between him and Rose.
He got up. Gathered all the drawings and left them on a neat pile on the table. It was still early for his lunch invitation to the Duke of Grandchester residence but what came as a priority it was to go back to her. Apologise. He had behaved appallingly the night before. He really didn't have to be that brash towards Terry, despite their differences. Not in front of Rose anyhow. She had no idea what had transpired between the two men on Sunday night. And to add to that, Terry hadn't behaved in front of her in any way that would cause her being critical towards him. In front of Rose, so far, he was the perfect gentleman. So by behaving so badly against someone who hadn't really given any reasons to Christian - at least ones that his woman knew also - it was no brainer that Rose had taken his side. The side of the person who was treated unjust. That's how she was. Side with the weaker even if it meant arguing with him, the man she had declared her love for and had put her foot down when he had asked her to break up with him.
He went in the bedroom, got undressed and made a move to the bathroom. A shower would help him feel better, get a wash, a shave and head out as soon as he would get dressed. The heaviness in his heart lifted a little bit just thinking of her. The way he saw her in his mind when he sketched her last night before falling asleep. All those lines, the curves on the paper, led to her. His destiny had led him to her. He wanted to ask her...the thought had been in his mind since the hospital, once she had stuck by him no matter what he was saying. But the question he wanted to ask, he hadn't the guts yet. Destiny may have felt that had brought them together but that damn luck or lack thereof, had made it impossible for him to actually create the right circumstances for what he wanted to say to her. One step, it was all he wanted to take but there was always something holding him back.
She had woken up for some time. In fact she had opened her eyes from very early that day. The careless, non-stop chirping of the birds outside her house had no semblance to what she felt inside. Sleep had eluded her till her eyes felt like wooden marbles inside their sockets. Even when finally she managed to drift off, she really couldn't find peace. Her dreams were stressful, tiring. Battling with waves as big as the big oak tree on Pony's hill. Being pulled by stormy seas in all directions. She tossed and turned, fighting with the bed sheets. They had ended up looking like entrails by the time she had decided to get up.
Perhaps it was the first time since she had left Pony and Sister Maria back in La Porte, that she felt nostalgic. If she could snap her fingers and transport herself there, at the tranquillity of Pony's home. She pulled her silk robe over her shoulders. She was in need of strong coffee. She stood over the cafetière waiting for it to brew, bleary eyed, completely transfixed by watching the steam snaking its way out the pot. The mornings at Pony's...oh, the circus of shouts, complaints, sneaky laughs, Pony trying to put some order to the chaos around the long sturdy table. The smell of fried eggs, coffee, steamed milk. Bread and butter and jams, she and Sister Maria were making every year. Fire crackling in the winter, windows open in the summer, bees buzzing. Fresh faces, combed hair, sparkly eyes. And then silence. All holding hands while Sister Maria would give thanks to God for their breakfast, for having everyone around the table, and to give them wisdom and strength for one more day. The pot became blurry...
She was lifted out of her homesick reverie by a knock at the door. She left the cafetière on the dining table, tied the belt of her dressing gown around her waist and headed towards the door.
Her heart squeezed in her chest when she faced Christian standing on her doorstep. Hands deep inside his pockets, he had fixed his eyes on the ground but he pulled his stare up, enough to connect with hers. He looked spent. His eyelids heavy in their movement, closed and opened over his sleep deprived eyes below a forehead carved by deep set wrinkles.
"May I come in...?" He asked her. His mouth was tense. Guilt washed over her. The situation had become almost unbearable. Last night he made the breadth of his jealousy obvious and it had caught her unprepared. He had hinted his feelings before, dressing them with a cloak of jokes and teasing and she had wondered about it. She hadn't realised Terry's presence around them had affected him as much. Since Terry had appeared in London, she had only thought of how much he had affected her... Where Christian was concerned...she truly hadn't given it much thought. She could have been a mess inside but she had been certain she was able to hide all that upset behind a smiling face and tons of affection and care towards Christian. It wasn't enough it seems, or perhaps it was too much. She felt pretty bad, in any case.
She stepped aside while standing at the door. He came in and stood at the hallway while she closed the door behind them. He turned and took a deep breath.
"I was just about to pour some coffee." She said to him before he had time to say something. He followed her with his eyes while standing on his spot. He kept for a moment what he wanted to say. Instead after a minute of hesitation, he walked into her living room. She had disappeared inside the kitchen and the clinking sound of porcelain cups put on their saucers was heard. She always did that. Avoid him when she felt he had something she was afraid of hearing. This time however, she shouldn't be afraid, he thought. He only wanted to apologise. She came back holding the cups and placed on the table. He grasped the opportunity.
"Can you please hear me out?"
"Terry is the one..."
His attempt of apology drowned inside what he heard her say. He already knew of course. To heat those words come out of her mouth though, it was almost like the wind knocking him off his feet.
She couldn't back down. Now that all of a sudden, the truth had escaped her lungs, she had to go on.
"Please sit down Christian." She asked him, with worry having washed over her green eyes.
He did as he was told, intrigued as to what he was about to hear. She pushed the stray curls behind her ears. She took a deep breath and brought her hands together, knitting her fingers in front of her chest. She looked almost like she was about to pray.
"Terry is the guy I was going out with at St. Paul's college." Revealing this, the moment she actually said it out loud, felt like a big heavy stone was lifted from her chest. However, Christian remained silent.
"The one I had told you about..."
Christian still wasn't saying anything. His stare hadn't wavered from her however. She felt warm through her body. She was sweating. She was nervous but there was no going back.
"If you'd ask me what he's doing here, I would say in all sincerity I don't know." She said.
"I didn't know he was coming."
"I didn't know he was here."
"I saw him for first time at the Gallery, the same time you met him too."
She was pacing, and stopping every time she was saying something. Looking at Christian, every time. His stand hadn't changed. It was as if he had swallowed his tongue.
"In all honesty, I think it was just coincidence he's here. Being part of the theatre troupe."
Still nothing from Christian. Her eyes darted from side to side, while looking at him. She rushed and knelt by his feet. She looked up and met with his eyes of his that kept everything locked behind.
"Please say something..."
The silence between them became heavy with things unsaid. He took a breath. He really hadn't expected this sudden outburst from her. All he had wanted when he came to her house was to make up with her. Clear the air from the night before. Rose's way of "clearing the air" is to unleash a hurricane inside his heart.
"What do you want me to say Rose?" He finally said, sounding measured and composed. He sounded almost mechanical.
She pulled her eyebrows together. "I don't know Christian! Anything? Everything! I can't discuss this on my own."
He took her hands off his knees and got up, leaving her kneeling on the floor. Took to the drinks cabinet, opened it and poured a shot of brandy inside a glass. He drank it. The fire in it, brought tears in his eyes. He turned around.
"OK then...do you still have feelings for him?"
She gasped inside. Really she didn't have a plan when she revealed to Christian the identity of Terry in her life. Christian's question caught her in surprise. Shocked her even. He didn't really beat around the bush. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears.
"You asked me to say something Rose." She heard him say. She turned her eyes on the rug she was kneeling on.
"Yes...I do" She said back, trying to muster as much courage to say out loud what she feared all along of accepting.
"I see..." He said.
She put her hands on the armchair Christian was sitting and pushed herself up. She stood on her feet. When she looked at him, she could see hurt inside his grey eyes.
"Christian, I still love you." She said to him.
He looked sideways. He rested his hands on his hips. A bitter laugh escaped his lips. He turned back. Rested his liquid eyes back on her. "That" He said, "Makes me feel so much better Rose!"
"Please Christian..." She said back to him. "Don't do this..."
He pushed his hair back. The dread he felt during the night while sketching her like mad, came back to his mind. It all made sense to him now. "What do you expect from me Rose?"
She pressed her lips in denial. "Not this..." She said, her voice almost a whisper. She knew he was hurting. He had said it himself too last night. Truth hurt. And she had to finally come true about all that was happening.
"What then?" He continued once he heard her response. "Dance with happiness that you love both of us?"
"No..." she lowered her eyes. Tear pearls squeezing from their corners.
"What was all that at the hospital Rose?" Slowly anger started spreading inside him. The room felt smaller by the minute. She had kept her head down. "Not letting me go...remember?"
"I do..."
"Please tell me you meant it..." He asked her. His voice shimmered with tension like an overstretched string pulsating close to breaking point.
She grabbed the chance. Grabbed his torso with both arms. Glued her body on his, held him with all her strength. Wanting to melt on him. He had remained straight as a plank. Tears were streaming down her face. Wetting his shirt.
'I did!" She cried. "Please believe me Christian! I do love you!"
"Because I love you, I'm telling you this" She added.
"You certainly took your time..."
The sarcasm was evident in the bitterness in his voice and he reminded her so much of Terry there, it brought goosebumps on her body. It was difficult for him though to control what was rising on the surface. Remembering his confrontation with him late on Sunday evening, how he pushed him to come clean to the point he punched him on the face. Christian then had realised that Terry didn't just feel the remnants of an old love, wishing to rekindle it. He felt really deeply for Rose. Had he already made a proposal to her? Or even give her an ultimatum. To choose between them. That was why she had been all of a sudden so tense lately. Defending him the night before, while accusing him of jealousy.
"Did he put you up to this?" He asked her. He felt his throat closing. "Did he ask you to choose?"
She widened her moist eyes and raised her head to see him. He pushed her shoulders back, pulling her body away from his, putting some distance between them. The tear tracks down her cheeks made his chest tighten.
"No, no, no!" She said. "Why are you being like this Christian?"
"I am sorry love, I can't be more civilised about this revelation of yours." His voice softened.
"I want to fight for us, Christian." She insisted. She dragged the tips of her fingers over her wet cheeks, rubbing the tears away. She wanted to reassure him. The softness on his voice gave her encouragement. She really had to do this.
"Terry was a big part of my life..." She started saying without breaking eye contact with Christian.
"We had shared something really deep."
He sighed impatiently. She risked losing him. "Please hear me out!" She raised her voice.
"I fought with everything I had since he came back in London, to deny our shared past."
She cupped her hot cheeks, feeling their warmth radiating on the palms of her hands. "But I cannot do it any longer...I am exhausted, physically and emotionally and mentally."
She sounded sincere. "It is not fair for anyone involved Christian, you most of all."
"Please give me till next Wednesday some space."
"You breaking up with me...?" He asked her.
"No!"
He fell on him once more. "You have given myself back." She whispered, as fresh tears blurred her eyesight once more. She raised her head to see him. There was so much doubt in his stare.
"I need to work through my feelings though"
"Please, I beg you, do not think of this as something that isn't."
"I need some space to breath, I am drowning between the past and the present Christian."
He dived inside the green ripples of her eyes. Wanting to reach deep down her soul. He lowered his head and kissed the salt of her tears on her lips. A sob left her throat, she breathed her sigh inside her mouth. He held her on him, deepening his kiss. It could be their goodbye. He didn't know...He couldn't know.
What he did know was that she was kissing him back with as much determination she could put to dispel his fears. Sadness of how everything had turned out. He had to accept her ask. Leave her be for now. Till Wednesday she had said. That was the day they were supposed to go away, the two of them. He pulled his head up. There was a lump sitting at his throat. It was raining inside his eyes.
"OK..."
"Take your few days."
"Work things out."
"It is not as if I can do something..." He said, sounding defeated already. Who could have blamed him though? He feared his chances against the bond she must had shared with Terry were slim, almost non-existent next to his. He had to go along however. For the sake of that very slim chance, she might choose him. He had to. For the time being, he needed to go away. This whole morning weighed like a ton inside him and he had to leave. Compose himself. He also had things to do, and problems to solve. And perhaps by Wednesday come, it could be a happy ending. He had to believe it.
"I have to go..." He said, bringing an end to this discussion.
She nodded. She didn't try to say anything else. She fears she'd lose control over her feelings, and fall into a sobbing heap on the floor.
"When you are ready...let me know"
He walked away and she moved with him, to follow him to the door.
"Don't bother love, I know my way out." He added and left without saying anything else. A moment later, she heard the front door closing. As if the spell dissolved on thin air, she collapsed on the armchair he was sitting. His smell was still there. As she had feared, sobs overtook her body, washing over her, like waves in a storm. A storm she would have to withstand if she had to be fair to herself and both men who were present in her life.
The art world in London buzzed the next day with the performance of Terrence Graham as Hamlet. The Stratford troupe not only had brought John Barrymore to one of London's most prestigious theatre stages but they had an even more exciting ace hidden behind the curtains. The future of Terrence Graham shone bright.
He was having tea in the dressing room, reading the headlines. Robert had sent a boy to buy all the morning newspapers. Judging by the spirited mood he was in that morning, you'd think Robert was the one who was celebrating. Terry as usual was more restrained. He preferred to have whatever happiness he felt, guarded. It was too much of a precious feeling to spend it out in the open. Instead, he enjoyed the quiet content and completeness he felt. But you could tell by looking in his eyes.
This time however, this feeling wasn't complete. The news that Candy would leave with her lover for the next two weeks didn't let him feel his success to the point he'd want. Like a crack on a glass that was there, from which ever point he would look at it. And it bothered him so. Perhaps that was it. He kept feeding his soul with memories for years on end. The time indeed had frozen for him. On those hospital stairs while she had managed to move on, he hadn't. But he feared to take that one step away from her and what life could have been if their love had been given that chance.
A knock at the door and he hadn't even time to respond because the door opened immediately after. Marion, like a gust of wind -
this girl is really persistent
Terry hid his amusement behind a half smile. He knew what she was there for. He prepared to hear it from her now.
"This...I'll never forgive Terry!" She said with much complaint and disappointment in her voice. Her body full of nerves, tense. She was holding a newspaper, folded inside her hand. He could make half of his face as Hamlet.
T. Graham's Hamlet enchants London
She handed him the newspaper. If she had been a dragon, smoke would having be coming out her nostrils.
"I've read it." He said calmly.
Her eyes widened in disbelief. "Is that it?!" She retorted. She let her body slump on the chair. There was a look of despondency on her face. "You really know how to make a girl feel special, Terry..." She added.
He took a deep breath and stood in front of her. In a way he felt guilty. He had used her to make Candy jealous that evening of the première. Marion wasn't his type. She wasn't someone he disliked either.
Part of the bright young people of London, she had grown up with a world war on her back, the trauma they all wanted to forget. So they had closed their minds to every suffering. Life was too short to suffer. Since money wasn't no object, what was there for them than to party till they dropped? This glamorous, polished, elegant young elite that the gossip columns were full of their stories and the readers couldn't have enough of - they were almost like actors in their own stage for everyone else to watch and gawk and marvel by their attractive lifestyle, how beautiful they looked and what fun they had.
Marion may have had the attention span of a gold fish and perhaps when Terry had lost the lustre of the new and intriguing man on the scene, she would have forgotten him to move to the next man who could make her look good, being by her side. For now, he was all she thought of. If he took that step he feared to take...at least with Marion he could be honest. They could have fun for two weeks. Enjoy each other's company for as long as it lasted without reaching a point where boredom would settle in. At that very moment, in all honesty, hoping to reunite with Candy seemed to him as difficult as it was to keep sand from disappearing through his fingers. This trip of hers with Christian was he felt the last blow.
"If it makes you feel better, it was very last moment." He said to her. She lifted her eyes to his face. He received them with a wide smile.
"You could have send a message...my father would have found me a ticket if I had asked him."
He didn't say anything to sooth the disappointment from her voice.
"God knows now when I'll see you perform, if ever that is..." She sighed.
He took a deep breath and pulled his watch out from his pocket. The time was near enough the lunch break.
"Get up." He prompted her and gave her his hand. He pulled her up from her chair the moment her hand slipped inside his.
He grabbed his jacket with the other hand and walked out of the room.
"Where are we going?" She asked while still being led by hand.
"Ah! All in good time..." He said back to her with a scheming smile.
He took her back stage. The table for lunch had been set. A variety of sandwiches, boiled eggs, cold cuts of meat and summer fruits were there to choose. For refreshments they had ginger beers. His eyes fell on an empty basket that lay by the side.
"Could I borrow this for a while?" He asked the man behind the table.
"Yes, go ahead Mr. Graham." The man said politely.
"Choose anything you like, for two, and get us a couple of ginger beers." He said to her and gave her the basket.
She looked at him, still not knowing what exactly he had planned all of a sudden but she kept quiet. Took the basket from his hand. "Wait for me here." He added.
By the time he came back, she had put some sandwiches in the basket, fruits, a couple of boiled eggs and some thick pieces of ham, plus the two ginger beers he had asked her for. Robert hadn't a problem for Terry to go away for an hour or two. Given everything that had happened yesterday, Terry deserved some slack. This girl that kept coming to the theatre, it looked like Terry enjoyed her company, even if she had been at time a little obsessive with him.
"Let's go." He said. She followed him, while holding the basket. The day outside was beautiful. The heatwave they had witnessed over at the weekend had passed but still it was pleasantly warm to be out in the open. He brought them to his car and opened the door for her, before putting himself behind the wheel.
"Am I allowed to ask now where are we going?" She asked again, looking intrigued.
"I thought the food basket was a good clue..." He said, teasing her.
"Regent's Park" He turned and revealed the destination when the roar from the engine was heard. She brought her hands on her cheeks, the happiness evident on her face as she closed her eyes and opened them a moment after. A mischievous glint in her stare, she draped her arms around his shoulders as he sped towards the park, and planted a big kiss on Terry's cheek.
He threw her a side glance, that of a teacher reprimanding a naughty school girl and she bit her bottom lip in response. "You're still not forgiven you know..." She commented.
He let a loud laugh. "Heaven forbid what I will do to get back into Miss Lewis' good graces!" He mocked her.
She widened her eyes. Having got used to him being so uptight and controlling, this sudden change of him being relaxed and funny around her, almost shocked her. "Don't challenge me Mr. Graham...because I can think of many things I could demand in order to grant you my forgiveness."
"We are becoming quite daring I see." He continued flirting with her, as they were getting close to the park. He found a spot to park the car and switched the engine off. "You are never happy with an inch Miss Lewis, are you?" He asked her as he opened the door for her. "You always aim for the mile." His eyes followed her as she came out of the car.
"Oh, it very much depends on the inch Mr. Graham..." She continued the play with words he had started.
He gave her his arm to knit her arm around. "What inch are you prepared to give Sir?" She added and winked to him while they walked inside the park with the picnic basket.
"Clever...very clever..." Terry said and laughed, his eyes scanning for a quiet, secluded spot for them to stop. They kept walking until they reached the Japanese garden, one of the most beautiful and idyllic parts of the park.
"Terry...it's beautiful." She turned and said to him. A small Japanese style wooden bow bridge connected the park with the garden which was practically an island in the middle of a lake. At that time of the year, the air was scented by the wisteria flowers that covered the sides of the bridge.
"Thank you." She said when they crossed the bridge. He could tell she meant it, her voice having dropped in tone, carrying the gratefulness she felt. They sat under the shade of a mature, Japanese elm tree by the banks of the lakes.
He stared at her, looking mesmerised while she was taking in her surroundings. "You haven't been here before?" He asked her.
"No, never." She turned and said to him. "I don't visit parks in particular."
"Oh?!" He sounded surprised. Took his jacket off, and laid it down in place of a blanket. She took the sandwiches, the ham and the fruits out of the basket. "Party life too exhausting?" He asked while rolling his sleeves up. She stopped for a moment and fixed her stare on him.
"You really have a bad opinion of me, haven't you?"
"It may sound strange to you, but no, I don't have a bad opinion of you Marion." He said and took the ginger beers from the basket. He took the caps off them. "I actually find you quite charming."
"But you don't approve of my lifestyle." She passed him one of the cheese sandwiches.
She was right. Terry always made comments about that endless party circuit, sounding condescending most times. For her, instead of finding his behaviour irritating, she found him more alluring. Made her want even more to win this strange man over.
"Does it matter?" He asked her. "Is my approval important to you?" He took a bite from his sandwich while keeping his eyes on her.
His intense stare made her blush. "Oh, I don't know..." She said quickly, and looked away, feeling the heat on the cheeks. His eyes on her made her thoughts being tied in a knot. "I think so?" She finally replied with a question, not being so sure how to respond.
He noticed how she broke their connection. "Listen, it doesn't matter what I think." Terry said to her. "I'm the weird one here." His lips curled upwards and his eyes smiled to her. "So feel free to think whatever you want about me, I'm used to be the outcast." He concluded and shoved the remaining sandwich in his mouth. There was a moment of silence as she digested his answer, and then her laughter, like water bubbling over pebbles in a stream filled the air. He joined her in laughing before taking a swig from the ginger beer bottle.
"For an outcast, you do succeed to attract a lot of attention though." She said and stopped him gulping down the contents of the bottle. He turned to her, feeling the heat of the ginger on his lips. His eyes sparkled.
"I don't tend to notice..." He confessed. "Unless it comes from a certain Miss Lewis...then it is impossible not to notice!" Another wave of laughter followed from both.
She leaned her head to his shoulder, while looking down, hiding her face in shame, her shoulders still rocking from her laughing.
"Stop, I beg you Terry, you'll choke me to death!"
"What?" He feigned surprise. "Oh come on, don't turn shy on me now." He pushed her shoulders back and she lifted her head to meet with his stare. Red like beetroot she was. "It feels different when the tables change doesn't it?" He asked her. Now that he behaved like the one pursuing her, it was as if she had turned into a schoolgirl. "Is this the same woman that made indecent moves up my thigh a few days back?"
"You said you didn't like it!" She protested. His stare had the qualities of an arsonist. If he hadn't thought of her mad, she would have jumped inside the lake. He let her shoulders and started laughing.
"Please add to being weird and an outcast, that I'm also unpredictable." He finally turned and said to her. "And you Miss Lewis, are a mad woman for being with me."
"That I may be Mr. Graham but I'll be the one who gauges the risk." He raised his brows in response to her daring reply. She grabbed a strawberry from the fruit bowl and sucked at its flesh without turning her eyes away this time. Terry couldn't believe this woman. He shook his head while mumbling as if he was on his own. "Definitely mad, definitely."
They spent some time after their flirting calmed down with him telling her gossip from the New York scene, the crazy, booze fuelled parties of Francis and Zelda Fitzgerald, listening to the sublime Duke Ellington at Harlem, the life under the Broadway's bright lights. She had lied down on the grass, listening, absorbing all he was telling her about his life there.
After all that had said, and having eaten everything inside the basket, silence had ensued between them. The only sounds were the songs of the birds and the wind making the leaves of the elm tree above them whisper softly secrets to each other. They should go soon.
Terry had his back rested on the thick trunk of the tree. Marion was lying beside him on the grass, with her eyes closed, enjoying the moment. His eyes caressed their surroundings and found himself thinking how different everything had turned out to be. A lifetime ago, in a similar scene, he was with...He glanced at the serene face of the girl next to him. Could he take that step? He smiled thinking of her bursting inside the changing room that day. He took a deep breath, taking in the fragrant air. His smooth voice joined the whispers of the wind.
On a day—alack the day!—
Love, whose month is ever May,
Spied a blossom passing fair
Playing in the wanton air:
Through the velvet leaves the wind,
All unseen, can passage find;
That the lover, sick to death,
Wish himself the heaven's breath.
Air, quoth he, thy cheeks may blow;
Air, would I might triumph so!
But, alack, my hand is sworn
Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn;
Vow, alack, for youth unmeet,
Youth so apt to pluck a sweet!
Do not call it sin in me,
That I am forsworn for thee;
Thou for whom Jove would swear
Juno but an Ethiope were;
And deny himself for Jove,
Turning mortal for thy love.
It was one of the monologues from Love's Labour's Lost. Robert was thinking of producing it for next year. He had kept looking at the lake as he was performing the monologue. A small token of apology for Marion who he felt stirring. He turned to find her eyes on him. "That was beautiful..." She commented with a soft voice.
"Love's Labour's Lost...next year's play." He said. "You heard this snippet first from everyone else." He added and got up. Gave her his hand to help her.
"Is it time already?" She asked him sounding disappointed that their lunch time together had finished.
"Yes...unfortunately I have to get back and I have a chore to do also." True, Terry hadn't forgotten his plan for visiting his father this afternoon. But for the time he was with Marion, he had put everything behind him and he had welcomed the calmness in his mind. He actually had to thank this woman who had kept pestering him. She held his jacket in one hand and the empty basket in the other and stood in front of him, realising he had travelling inside his mind.
"A penny for your thoughts..."
Terry didn't say anything, but passed his arm around her waist and brought her close. His free hand felt the warmness of her cheek. His lips covered hers. Kissed them softly, almost hesitant but sincere. He felt the surprise on the trembling of her lips, their slight parting. He could easily deepen the kiss, making her heart beat faster; she barely managed to hold on the basket and his jacket as it was. But he decided not to. A small step was preferable rather than a jump. He pulled away and his eyes smiled seeing how she had hers still closed. "You can open your eyes...I won't disappear." He said with a low voice, holding a chuckle back. She opened them when he took the jacket from her hand.
"Consider this my compensation for last night..." He said and cleared his voice.
She followed him, as they walked over the little bridge. Once they reached the other end, they stopped and he gave her his arm again. "You'll need to kiss me many more times to compensate for that Terry..." She challenged him and bit her lip, knowing she was daring him...She doubted any man before him made everything so thrilling for her.
They started walking towards the car. "If you keep this attitude, there may be more from where this came from..."
She looked at him, and the naughtiness inside his eyes. She was unsure whether he was serious or just joking but she felt her stomach twisting with waves of utter pleasure and anticipation. She struggled holding herself from squeaking with excitement. That must had been the hottest and amazing lunch date she had ever had in her life. She held his arm close and smiled. She'd follow his orders down to the last dot, if it meant she'd be rewarded with this man sharing kisses with her...