Sunday, 13th December 2009
Today is the first time Harry joins them for a performance and she's sure she can feel his eyes on the back of her head throughout the service; she's sure her own would be glued to him too if she'd been standing behind him.
Following the service and after all the handshakes, compliments, and conversations are complete and most of the choir has gone, he moves close to her side again, saying, "Can I offer you a lift anywhere, Grace?"
"Thank you, Al." She smiles, her heart tripping from a combination of the happy smile he gives her, his proximity, and her own nerves. It's frustrating and disconcerting how easily this man is able to get under her skin and sway her, how the warm glint in his hazel eyes sets her heart to racing, how a slight pursing of his lips can trigger an overwhelming desire to kiss him, and how all this has not diminished one jot with time and distance. Much to her chagrin, guilt, and dismay – and as reluctant as she's been to admit it to herself – over the last few days, she's discovered that he has as much power over her now, as ever.
"Shall we go, Grace?" Derek stumbles into their conversation. "The rain's let up a bit." She usually walks home with him, Jim and Diana after church.
"Al's just offered me a lift, Derek. I'm sorry." She gives him an apologetic look. She tries not to encourage him, but she doesn't want to be rude either. She's not developed any friendships here, has kept herself aloof and distant, the effort of living a double life too much for her at present, so Derek with his mild manners and attentive solicitousness has made it easy to fit in without any effort on her part and whilst still keeping herself walled off from everyone.
"Oh." He looks crestfallen.
"I could give you a lift too, Mate," Harry offers, making her heart sink for, though she knows she's on dangerous ground, a part of her had hoped for some alone time with Harry. She tells herself it's to talk about their situation at choir and work out how they proceed from here, formulate a plan, see if they can both keep coming to the same place or if she needs to find another choir. She's torn between the pleasure of Al's positive energy and how it is affecting Grace, and the turmoil of her own feelings, Ruth's feelings, of the pain and guilt surrounding George and the stirring of long set aside desires for Harry.
But of course he'd offer Derek a lift. He's Al – the most generous and good-natured person at choir.
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it. I'll just go get the car and bring it round the front then." And with that and a warm smile he's gone, leaving her to wait with Derek and try to show some interest in his conversation. Poor man. He really doesn't have a clue. She feels rather sorry for him.
It doesn't take long for Harry to pull up in front of the church, but before they can make it to the car, he's already got out and is walking towards them, meeting them halfway with a smile and his large, black umbrella open against the elements.
"Beastly weather," he says cheerfully as he guides her towards the passenger seat of his car with a gentle hand on her lower back, leaving Derek to fend for himself and get in the back seat.
"Thank you," she smiles up at him, feeling touched and treasured by his solicitousness.
He smiles, closing her door and walking round the car to slip into the driver's seat, as she frowns at the water droplets racing each other down the wind-shield, annoyed by the treacherous stirring of her heart and giving it a good telling to.
"So, where to?" He looks at her but it's Derek who answers.
"Grace's place is closest. I live on the crescent."
"Right," Harry nods, pursing his lips, she thinks in disappointment. He rallies quickly, however, and begins his usual easy conversation, drawing her out and making her laugh in spite of all the resolutions she's just made to keep her distance. The traffic is heavier because of the weather, so it takes them a good quarter of an hour to get home – plenty of time for Al's charm to undermine all her attempts to remain aloof, especially when he starts talking about books and discussing the classics. Derek tries to keep up initially and dominate the conversation, but becomes more and more quiet as they get closer to her home, clearly brooding.
Once they arrive, Harry gets out of the car again to walk her to her door, leaving Derek in the back, watching them. She does turn to smile at him and bid him goodbye while Harry's walking round the car, and she thinks he looks a little happier as she gets out.
Poor sod. It's not his fault he's hopeless.
"Here we are, Grace," Harry smiles, eyes twinkling at her in mischief when they step under the overhang in front of the entrance.
"Thank you, Al." She emphasises his name, earning her another twinkle and twitch of his lips.
"My pleasure. See you on Tuesday."
"If not before," she counters, unable to resist the temptation.
"Indeed." He takes her hand in his then and brings it to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers, and she's sure he can feel her pulse racing. "Have a good Sunday, Ruth," he murmurs softly, slipping out of character for the first time, then turns abruptly away, leaving her staring after him, her heart aching with longing, her mind overwhelmed by guilt.