Fit For Purpose

by Julian D. Parrott

  Tom entered the pub and saw Nia to his left sitting on a high stool, her winter coat on another stool, reserving it for him. She stood up when he came into the pub. She was elegant in grey suede boots, jeans, a lavender shirt, and blue cardigan. They embraced and Nia pulled Tom to her and held him closer and tighter. Tom touched her cheek and they kissed.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hello, Mr Price,” Nia said formally with a giggle and held out her hand. He took it and shook it politely. They both laughed.

  Tom took off his Barbour and scarf. He was already warm. Nia noticed his small rucksack.

  “Packing light,” she laughed.

  “Always,” he responded.

  They talked like old friends and any nervousness on reconnecting quickly dissipated. He bought her another wine and a Peroni for himself. They held hands and Nia leant over, wobbling on her the high stool and Tom kissed her. They got lost in each other. After another round of drinks, the pub filled with a happy and obstreperous Friday night crowd. Nia only had eyes for Tom as the little dramas of life played on around them. It grew too loud to have a comfortable conversation and Nia nodded towards the door and Tom signalled agreement; it was time to go.

  Nia took him to a small subterranean club for tango dancing. She was good, of course, she had learned to dance for a few of her roles. Yoga and Pilates kept her limber and she moved fluidly. He was rubbish but enjoyed the feel her body so tight against his that he could feel the muscles of her thigh press against his as their sweat co-mingled. They moved across the dance floor together, alone among the crowd. After their dancing was over Nia took him through the city to a quiet wine bar where Tom, feeling peckish, ordered a meat and cheese plate for two that turned out to be the most expensive he’d ever encountered. Together they ate and glowed with wine and new romance.

  They taxied back to the hotel, happy and tipsy. In their room, Tom unpacked his rucksack while Nia drew a bath. She invited him into the large marble bathroom. There, she had lit some candles, the bath bubbled appealingly with the aroma of lavender essential oils, while a bottle of champagne chilled next to two flutes. She stepped towards Tom and pulled up his cotton sweater. She unbuttoned his chinos and pulled them down to his ankles. Tom started to speak but Nia simply hushed him. He stepped out of his trousers. Nia stepped back and unbuttoned her shirt and let it fall behind her. She rolled her jeans down and off her legs. She wore plain white panties with lace edging and matching bra. Tom removed the rest of his clothes and held her in his arms. He unlatched her bra and gently removed it. Her nipples had budded with desire. She sat on the side of the bath and Tom pulled her panties down, delighting in the arch she made with her body so he could ease them down over her bottom. He kissed her knees and then slowly made his way up higher to the inside of her legs. She parted her legs as he reached the top of her thighs. He kissed her there and she moaned with delight. Nia reached down and stroked his hair as he continued to intimately kiss and stroke her sex. After she climaxed, they made love on towels laid out on the marble tiles. Then they lay together in the bath drinking champagne. Nia’s back was to Tom’s chest while he ran a hand through her thick hair, although neither said anything they were lost in similar thoughts.

  The next day was a cold crisp winter day suffused with the kind of light photographers made their careers on. London, being a great walking city, Tom and Nia walked countless streets, saw countless monuments, old and new. Nia enjoyed seeing the city, her city, through Tom’s tourist eyes. They made crude jokes about some of the ancients on the walls of the National Portrait Gallery. Nia pointed out a few portraits of people she knew or had worked with. Tom explained some archaic military rules the soldiers outside Horse Guards were required to follow. On that day, London was a city for lovers.

  Nia had arranged for them to attend a play at the Wanamaker Playhouse. The playhouse was adjacent to the Globe Theatre, the large, instantly recognisable, facsimile of Shakespearian theatre which had closed for the winter. The Wanamaker was a smaller indoor theatre but still resembled its Elizabethan forebear. Tom dressed in smart blue cords and the same country check sports jacket he wore when he first met Nia. Nia watched him as he knotted a green knit tie over a plain white cotton shirt. What a good-looking fella, she thought, but so unlike so many of her actor friends he’s never really embraced it. She dressed in a heavy green serge dress that accentuated the warm red highlights in her hair. It was low cut and fitted snugly around her breasts and hips. It was a style she liked.

  The play was enjoyable, striking an intimate and romantic tone as the two main characters, storm separated lovers, were finally reunited through scenes that required the whole theatre to be lit by candlelight alone. Nia and Tom stayed, postproduction, to have a drink with the actors, most of whom were acquaintances of Nia. Someone shouted “Nia” with an accompanying camera flash. Nia had smiled, but Tom, standing a little back, as he always did, with sightlines to entrances and exits and on the crowd before him, noticed that her smile wasn’t genuine. When Nia genuinely smiled her eyes sparkled, fine lines crinkled out from the side of her eyes, and her lips parted over her top teeth. Nia made her way through the crowd that had begun to circle the leading actress. Nia noticed Tom holding himself apart and joined him.

  “Come and meet the play’s lead,” Nia said. “An old colleague.”

  Nia’s old colleague was instantly recognisable, an actress in her ascendency. She was loud, funny, and rude.

  “Well,” the actress began as Nia approached. “We are honoured to be joined by the enigmatic Nia Williams.”

  The crowd cheered with sincerity.

  Nia looked surprised and pleased. The actress held out her two arms and pulled Nia towards her.

  “It is unusual to see you out and about Nia.”

  “I had heard that you were brilliant in the play and wanted to see it and you for myself,” Nia responded generously.

  The actress nodded an appreciation towards Nia and noticed that Nia and Tom were clearly an item. “And, who is this gorgeous man with you this evening, Ms Williams?”

  Nia introduced Tom and he noticed the quizzical glance that passed between the two women.

  “Nice to meet you, Tom,” the actress said. “You’re not an actor so what is it that you do for a living?”

  “Oh, I write a bit,” said Tom.

  “Oh fuck,” the actor laughed. “You’ll need to get a real job if you are going to be with our Nia.”

  The crowd laughed and Tom looked towards Nia and she smiled back at him and raised an eyebrow.

  “What do you write?” the actress continued with genuine interest.

  “Oh, travelogues,” Tom said. He was about to add the word ‘canals’ but the actress interrupted:

  “Oh, anywhere sexy and exotic?”

  “Yes,” Tom said quickly. “Wales.”

  The actress laughed a thin, high but genuine guffaw while looking first at Nia and back to Tom. The actress held Tom in her gaze for a moment, winked, then she returned to holding court.

  Nia grabbed Tom’s hand and sighed with a sense of relief. She moved through the crowd introducing Tom to some of the coterie of actors and acquaintances. Many were friendly but Tom noticed a collective look of surprise they almost all shared. He asked Nia about it. She thought for a moment and was struck by her own realisation,

  “I don’t usually do this, attend these public things any more. And, when I do, it’s usually alone,” she told Tom. She was bemused. She hadn’t introduced a boyfriend since the early days of Goldenboy. Boyfriend? Was Tom her boyfriend. And, why wasn’t there a better term for boyfriend for people in their forties?

  She wondered whether she had introduced Tom to acquaintances to make him feel more comfortable and confident after her Tube station wobble or to signify the depth of the relationship to herself. Maybe a bit of both, she thought. They moved to the bar area as the event began to wind down. Nia looked at Tom and grasped his hand.

  “Wanna get out of here?�
� she asked.

  “Only if you do,” Tom replied gallantly.

  ***

  Outside the theatre the winter night was still and chilly. Once again, the normally thriving metropolis felt empty. North across the Thames, St Paul’s Cathedral was lit up so dramatically that it appeared almost supernatural. They were drawn to it and walked across the Millennium footbridge and up to the Cathedral almost in unspeaking awe. They stood in front of Wren’s masterpiece holding hands before turning for the Tube station. They took an almost empty Tube train back close to the hotel. It was a short walk from the station to the hotel. Nia pulled on Tom’s arm as he opened the hotel’s entrance door. She asked him whether he would like to come home with her rather than stay at the hotel. He knew that this was an important symbolic step for Nia, so he said that he’d love to see her home.

  The hotel’s concierge ordered a taxi. He had become more helpful when Nia agreed to still pay for the night’s reservation. Nia and Tom entered the broad cabin of the classic black cab and Nia gave the driver her home address. Tom carried his rucksack and Nia’s large overnight bag.

  Nia lived in a town house off one of London’s innumerable Georgian squares. It was a solidly established area not fashionable enough, yet, for sports stars and oligarchs. Nevertheless, as they stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing three story façade Tom suddenly realised that Nia wasn’t short of cash. This wasn’t the home of a struggling actor. Nia opened her front door and Tom dropped the bags off in the entrance vestibule. Nia pointed down the corridor, noting lounge and dining room to the right, small toilet, then kitchen and breakfast nook towards the back. She took Tom up to the second floor with its guest bedroom, where Tom was momentarily crestfallen thinking that it was for him, and then a study which he noted held a beautiful fireplace, an Adam he wondered, and lots of books, then another bathroom. Then up narrow stairs again, third floor with its spacious bathroom, master bedroom, and an office-cum-guest bedroom. Nia turned on bedside lights and sat on her bed.

  “Lovely,” Tom said.

  “Thanks, I’ve put a lot of time and effort into it.”

  “I meant you,” he said.

  Nia laughed and lay back on the bed and Tom moved across the room and kissed her.

  Tom unbuttoned Nia’s dress, pulling it gently off her body. He undressed her slowly, teasing her with kisses. They made love, tenderly and passionately. After, they drifted off to sleep content in each other’s arms.

  Morning’s diffuse light etched its way across the bedroom as Tom woke to see a beaming Nia in her dressing gown carrying a tray of breakfast into the bedroom.

  “I thought I’d let you sleep while I fixed some breakfast,” she said.

  “Hhmmmm, Nice. I like the service you get here,” Tom joked. “Better than the hotel.”

  ***

  They spent the remainder of the day at Nia’s home. They settled into the warm study on the cold and grey winter’s afternoon. Tom was touched and slightly embarrassed to see his canal guides on Nia’s reading table.

  “Insomnia?” he asked nodding to his books. Nia giggled.

  “Why the change of name?” she asked.

  “Errr, military thing,” Tom confirmed. “My name appeared in the press a few years back when I was, umm, picking up a medal. Thought it best not to necessarily advertise that the canal guy and the medal guy are one and the same.”

  Tom browsed the bookshelves and picked a well-reviewed thriller. Nia was curled up on her chair with a history book. He sat in the leather wingback near the fireplace. Nia looked up from her book.

  “You write well,” she enthused. “I didn’t study English, but I’ve read a lot of scripts and have a decent sense of what’s good writing.”

  Tom thanked her. They talked of favourite authors, of books that had made differences in their lives, and films made from books. Then they settled in and read in companionable silence.

  When it was time for Tom to head back, Nia once again walked with him to the Tube station and down onto the platform. This time, however, they kissed passionately and deeply. Nia asked Tom whether he could visit again, and they arranged a time and place to meet on the following Friday. The audiobook job meant that, for that week, she had almost regular work hours. The Tube train arrived too quickly for them. She watched Tom’s train disappear into the tunnel and felt an immediate emptiness.

  Tom thought of Nia through his entire trip back north. He was suddenly aware that she had given him a reason to move on with his life. He hadn’t had as much fun on the town since… before the war, he recalled. And it wasn’t just fun, Nia made him want to live rather than just exist. He stopped at Rachel’s to drop off the Land Rover and to pick up Jack. Tom was made to sit through a cup of tea and a good-natured grilling from Rachel. Owain, from behind his newspaper, suggested Rachel leave Tom alone.

  Tom cleared his throat and turned to Owain.

  “Owain, you have lots of guys — plumbers, roofers, tractor guys, yeah?”

  Owain nodded.

  “Do you have a Land Rover guy?” asked Tom.

  “Err, yes,” Owain replied, putting his paper down.

  “I’d like to get one. Gently used. Probably something with a short wheelbase, a Defender 90 perhaps.”

  Owain and Rachel exchanged glances.

  “What colour?” Rachel asked.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Tom answered.

  Rachel looked towards Owain and raised an eyebrow.

  Later, Rachel drove Tom and Jack back to the marina.

  “Nia?” Rachel asked simply.

  “Is wonderful,” was all Tom replied.

  Rachel attempted to watch Tom’s face as she drove, trying to also keep an eye on the road ahead. She thought Tom’s face reflected a contentment that she hadn’t seen in him for years. Still, she had a concern.

  “Be careful little brother. She’s already binned you once. She doesn’t have a good track record at this sort of thing.”

  Tom faced Rachel. “Oh, and I do?” he replied.

  “Well,” Rachel said turning briefly to Tom as she drove. “There was the Marina Girl.”

  Tom laughed at the reference. He’d had a disastrous short-lived liaison with the divorced daughter of a marina owner. It ended badly and resulted in the loss of Periwinkle’s permanent berth.

  “I’d like to meet Nia Williams,” Rachel said. “Will she ever come up for a visit?”

  The thought of Nia at the farm being given the third degree by Rachel didn’t thrill Tom but the thought of Nia on the Periwinkle did completely.

  Back at the farm, Rachel put the car keys on the table where Owain was still reading the Sunday paper.

  “Tom seems good,” Owain announced, not really looking up. “Better somehow.”

  “Yes,” Rachel said as she moved to the sideboard and picked up the photo of Tom in full uniform. She remembered exactly when the photo was taken just after Tom officially received the MC. He had begun to change then, still the kind man he always was, but struggling. His sadness was palpable. Rachel had now witnessed further change in Tom since his meeting Nia, more positive change. But it was Nia Williams, how could that relationship work? She worried for Tom.

  “I hope it will last,” she said, really to herself. “I really do.”

  ***

  Periwinkle

  Jack and Tom settled into an evening on the boat. Tom’s phone dinged with a text. Nia. Some friends were hosting an early Christmas dinner next Saturday, would he like to join them? Tom replied he’d be delighted. He’d like to meet some of her friends, he was already aware that she had a small circle of those she truly considered friends. He thought automatically of the logistics behind a trip to London, maybe with his new Land Rover.

  The week went slowly for Tom. The weather closed in and kept the Periwinkle moored up in the marina. It was the second marina that Tom had called home. He wrote a little, less than he wanted to. His guidebook editor was trying to convince him to write a book length work, perh
aps a contemporary revisiting of L.T.C. Rolt’s journey and thoughts in Narrowboat. Tom read quite a bit and he made a few playlists for himself and for Nia. He walked Jack and ran when the weather allowed. His right leg ached with the declining temperature. He bought a Land Rover from Owain’s guy and arranged a parking space at the marina. He thought about Nia a lot.

  Tom drove himself and Jack in his newly acquired Land Rover to Rachel’s on the Thursday night. He planned on a dawn start Friday. He had a nine a.m. date, in London.

  ***

  London

  Nia’s week was never routine, but her work on the audiobook gave her a temporary sense of a regular week. She hit the gym almost daily and met Jane for coffee. Jane let Nia know that she had the lesbian matron role if she wanted it. Nia read. She met Ben and George for a walk and again wondered whether she should get a dog. Nia made time to meet her friends for drinks. Her small circle of friends had been mostly established in the post Goldenboy years. They were a tight clique of five, all actors or media types. They were supportive but not demanding. Their work schedules and lifestyles meant that their get-togethers weren’t calendared but occurred more organically whenever two or three were in town together. Nia wasn’t a core, but they accepted her, cared for her, and they understood her pain and loss. They were surprised when, after one glass of wine, she did indeed say that she could owe her glow to a new guy and briefly described her relationship with Tom. It was if she went through the week keeping one eye on a clock willing it to be Friday morning.

  ***

  Friday morning

  Nia was early. She stood by the Tower of London’s gatehouse entrance She wore a black beret and black gloves and put her heavy winter coat’s collar up to combat the wind whipping over the Thames to her back. She waited for Tom with excited anticipation. Nia yearned to see him, to hold him, and to be held by him, then she saw him as he walked down the access road from Tower Hill. His limp was now familiar. He wore his boots, jeans, a leather jacket, wool gloves, scarf and hat. She watched as he caught sight of her and as his face broke into a broad smile and he picked up his pace. She went to meet him almost at a run. They hugged and then kissed. She had planned another adventure day in the city.