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The Milieu Principle

Page 14

by Malcolm Franks

With each passing day Matt began to take more and more responsibility at the controls of the yellow machine. Any earlier long held fears of either take-offs or landings had evaporated from his mind. Then, one magical sunny day, Jack asked Matt to fly the whole journey from start to finish while the Canadian took a breather. Matt found himself in complete control of the plane. It was one of those did the earth move for you moments. And boy, did it move.

  There was something about the wide openness of the light blue sky, the ability to soar through the air like a bird in flight, which Matt found beyond compare. To him, this represented the ultimate in freedom.

  Jack bristled with pride at the results of his steady tuition. The older man had noticed how the inner demons within his friend were visibly quelled each time Matt took temporary control of the instruments. Now, as he took full charge of the yellow machine, they seemed to have been totally cast aside.

  Everything came together at the same time for Matt. His fondness towards the burly Canadian had grown into a huge respect, particularly now Jack was schooling him to be a pilot. Matt had taken Grace’s advice and looked behind the bravado façade of her statuesque friend, finding underneath a woman of considerable warmth and charm. In this respect, she mirrored the nature of the burly Canadian Matt had come to regard more as an elder brother. To Matt, Holly was now an integral part of his newfound family.

  His Sunday visits to Jenna assumed greater significance each time. He painted the wooden frame of her bungalow one Sunday. On others he attended to the small garden, ridding the borders of weeds and laying down a fresh lawn. In between household chores they enjoyed trips to the picture house, and took in a CFL (Canadian Football League) game at the local stadium. Jenna grew visibly happier with life in general, showering Matt with tactile yet innocent affection in return for his company.

  An added bonus of these Sunday excursions was the dissipation of any lingering reservations Jack harboured about Matt’s residence at The Keg, and therefore his close proximity to its landlady, despite it being his original idea.

  And then there was Grace. More and more often she stayed up to help him with the final chores of the night. There was little time for conversation during the evening’s opening hours so this gave them the opportunity to exchange friendly banter. Though the length of their conversations grew, both avoided asking direct questions of each other.

  She had trusted Matt immediately. He had told her he was looking only to work during the summer before moving on, and Grace had accepted his explanation without question.

  Matt sensed Grace was curious about the unexplained bruising to his arms but she passed no further comment, nor did she ask him any questions about what he got up to on his days off with Jenna. Matt’s interest was aroused by the fact she never mentioned the merest detail of anything about her past, not even her childhood.

  On occasions, he would look up from what he was doing and catch Grace gazing in his direction. She would give him that warm friendly smile she had, and then turn her attention to busying herself with a customer or to another member of staff.

  During his five minute breaks Matt would stand and observe her, fascinated by the manner in which she would float between the tables of customers. Whoever she talked to welcomed Grace openly and she would return the warmth of their receptions as if she had known them all her life.

  Eventually Matt could resist the temptation no longer. He had to know more about the mystery of her hidden past. Matt cornered Jack on their next scheduled lock in, a Sunday night as it happened.

  “Grace Amanda Fox is her full name, lad,” Jack began. “She arrived about eight months ago, shortly after a personal tragedy from what I can gather. Holly knows the full details though she’ll not tell. I’ve heard the name Mark mentioned once or twice, but all Grace has told me is she wants to build a new life here in Victoria and put the past behind her. I guess it’s why she bought The Keg.”

  No sooner had he finished speaking than they were joined by Holly and Grace. Although they had done this on several previous occasions, Jack and Holly remained oblivious to their mutual attraction.

  “How was yur day off then lad?” asked Jack.

  It seemed a perfectly innocent question.

  “Good,” he replied.

  “Jenna? Yur had a big grin on yur face all night.”

  “Jack!” interjected Grace, “you can’t ask him that.”

  Matt’s glance darted across to Grace. She returned his look with a warm, knowing smile. The older man looked on, bemused.

  “Why? He never talks about her,” Jack said defensively.

  “You big oaf,” said Holly. “That’s Matt’s private business. If he wanted to talk about Jenna, then it’s up to him.”

  The Canadian’s shoulders slumped in dismay.

  “Come to think of it though, Matt,” said Holly, impishly, “I am pretty curious myself. Who is this mysterious woman that has captured your attentions, exactly?”

  Again, Matt glanced over to Grace. Her eyes continued to shine and the smile remained intact.

  “You should bring her over,” encouraged Holly. “Then we could all meet her. See what she’s made of.”

  “Holly, really, you’re as bad as Jack,” scolded Grace.

  “No, its okay,” answered Matt, “I don’t mind.”

  He did mind though.

  “Well,” said Holly, “give us the low down, Matt. Is she a blonde, brunette, ginger perhaps? I’ll bet she looks like our Gracie here. Petite and white as the snow.”

  Matt could see the look of disapproval on Grace’s face at her friend’s remark but felt obligated to say something about Jenna.

  “She’s mixed race actually,” he replied, “part Caucasian, part Oriental. She’s small, slim and very energetic.”

  “Oh is she really!” teased a giggling Holly, and Grace thumped her friend’s leg under the table.

  “No, no,” said Matt shaking his head from side to side, “I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “So what does she do, Matt?” asked the ever inquisitive Holly, revelling in Matt’s discomfort.

  His reticence to talk openly about Jenna in any detail confirmed to her Matt held an underlying affection for Grace, as she’d suspected.

  “No, no, let me guess,” insisted Holly. “She’s either in sales or some kind of marketing environment, where it’s always flustered and busy. This would her explain her ... energetic personality.”

  Jack saw his chance to playfully add to the Englishman’s unease.

  “I reckon a dentist or dental nurse,” he said, “Matt’s teeth have never been so white,” and he chortled loudly, echoed by Holly.

  “I’ve got it!” shouted Holly excitedly. “She’s a secret agent planted to get close and persuade you to reveal all of your deep dark secrets, all those things you keep hidden from the three of us,” she enthused.

  Jack and Holly laughed together in stereo, like a pair of schoolchildren teasing a new boy in class. It was harmless stuff as far as they were concerned and he understood their good-natured, if misguided intentions.

  Grace continued to look horrified by their playful prodding into Matt’s personal life, conscious of his discomfort. He smiled to let her know it was okay, to confirm he was refusing to take any real offence.

  “Paediatric nurse,” said Matt, finally. “Jenna looks after new born babies with health problems at the local hospital. She loves the job and, by all accounts, she’s very, very good at it.”

  It was a profession to be respected, and it quietened Jack and Holly’s mirth.

  “Not a job I could do,” continued Matt. “Particularly when you hear about the state of some of the patients they have to attend to. She puts her heart and soul into it and I have nothing but the utmost admiration for Jenna.”

  He said it with a level of pride which surprised him and glanced over to see Grace approved. Their two friends had now fallen silent, slightly embarrassed by their churlishness.

  Grace decided to steer the con
versation away onto different matters recalling an incident from a few days earlier, when she discovered Matt couldn’t cook.

  “He wouldn’t admit it at first,” teased Grace.

  Their two friends almost seized up with laughter as Grace recounted the event in greater detail, having woken up earlier than normal one morning to find Matt nibbling at a chocolate biscuit for his breakfast. Matt remembered it as an occasion when the unspoken attraction between the two of them almost erupted into the open. Entering the kitchen wrapped in her yellow kimono dressing gown, she insisted upon showing him how to make a simple breakfast. Matt recalled how Grace had stood close behind him, holding his hand while he attempted to stir the ingredients. He could feel her soft breast pushing hard up against his back.

  Grace made no attempt to resist the close contact between them. But she must have been aware of their touching bodies.

  “You nearly cost me a dear friendship,” he said

  “Me? how?” Grace asked laughingly.

  “The Sunday after,” recalled Matt. “I decided to surprise Jenna by making the evening meal as her shift didn’t finish until five in the afternoon.”

  “And?” questioned Grace amusingly.

  “Jenna said the meal was very well seasoned.”

  “And?” she quizzed again.

  “I took Jenna out for a burger,” he replied dryly.

  His three companions fell about helpless in uncontrolled roars of laughter at this misfortune. Grace, in particular, laughed until she cried. Matt joined in with their amusement, realising he was indeed fortunate to be living this new life.

  Though this was not a world of unlimited wealth and expensive material pleasures, it was rich with heart. Between them, Jack, Holly, Grace and Jenna had provided Matt in their own ways with the perfect sanctuary, welcoming him into their little community without hesitation or suspicion.

  Jenna showered Matt with affection whilst Grace gave food and shelter. Holly provided the amusement and Jack a regular income. This fresh world had taught him new skills and how to accept the diverse nature of human beings.

  Matt felt as though he was growing up all over again. He had pushed the Milieu files to the back of his mind, for it suited him to close his eyes to the rest of the world. And, with no paperwork in evidence of his presence here, there was no audit trail to follow. It was the perfect cover.

  ‘I’m untraceable,’ thought Matt.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Found

 

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