by C F Dunn
Chapter 11
Almost Human
By day four, I achieved a degree of self-sufficiency. I didn’t wait for Elena, but shuffled to the bathroom using the wall to lean on when the room threatened to turn upside down. Blissful hot water ran in streams through my hair and over my still aching body, washing away remnants of ’flu and leaving me almost human again. I managed to drag on some clothes but the effort left me completely drained and I lay on my bed with my arm draped across my eyes recovering, my wet hair spread messily around me.
A loud knock on the door followed by the sound of the key in the lock announced Elena’s morning call. She had been in every morning and each afternoon on return from tutorials. She took her visits as an opportunity to boss me in her attempt to nurture, forcing me to eat as soon as she thought me able and keeping me up to date on campus gossip. I was touched by her kindness, although she refused to be thanked.
“Emma, are you decent?” The door to my flat opened and her cheerful voice preceded her into the room.
“Sort of,” I croaked, my eyes still covered because my arm was too heavy to lift.
There was a giggle in her voice. “Good, because there’s someone here to see you.”
I thought about sitting up but the notion of it made the room rock, so it seemed easier just to lie there.
“Hello, Freckles.”
I shot into an upright position.
“Sam… hi…”
He stood in the doorway to my bedroom in his dark leather jacket, hands stuffed in his jeans pockets, and everything about him looked awkward and uncomfortable.
“I heard you have ’flu; are you OK now?” He could barely meet my eyes and showed none of his customary bravado.
“I’m much better, thanks.” I decided on a direct approach. “Does that mean that I’m forgiven, Sam?” I cleared my throat, still husky from the infection. He scuffled his feet and shrugged.
“Yeah, well, that depends…”
“On what?”
In the kitchen, Elena hummed while making toast; I heard the scraping of a knife on the rough surface before I smelled it wafting through the flat.
Sam looked up under his lashes “On whether you can forgive me. I’m sorry for the way I reacted the other day – I had no right to.”
It was all so long ago, and so much had happened in between that it no longer seemed relevant, but Sam obviously didn’t think so; he acted as if it was all he had thought about since then.
“Sam – it’s forgotten; forget it – life’s too short, and I’m sorry too, for the misunderstanding.” My hair dripped down my back, soaking my top. I searched around for the towel, but it had slipped off the bed and onto the floor. I leaned sideways to pick it up, but Sam was there first, holding it out to me, his eyes pining. I took it from him, taking care not to touch him in case he thought it meant more than it did.
“Elena says Lynes – Matthew…” he quickly corrected himself, “comes here every day to check on you? That’s uh… very dedicated of him.”
His attempt at nonchalance wouldn’t fool anybody. Elena appeared in the doorway, plate in one hand, a steaming mug of tea in the other. She stopped, waiting to see the direction of the conversation. I wrapped the towel around the dripping tail of my hair and squeezed water from it.
“Yes, Matthew’s been very kind; Elena too,” I said evenly, making sure I included her even though it wasn’t what Sam meant, and I knew it and so did she. Elena rolled her eyes behind his back. Sam rubbed a hand over day-old beard. He still managed to look very attractive with it and I wished for his sake he would find someone else to smoulder at so effectively.
“Does it mean you and he are, you know… that I don’t… that you wouldn’t consider us getting together… at all,” he fumbled, trying to find something appropriate to say for which I wouldn’t snap at him. I sighed; I thought that we were beyond all that and, after our last encounter, that the situation had been made perfectly clear. Elena walked quietly past him and put my breakfast on my bedside table, looking at me meaningfully as she did so.
“Thanks,” I said automatically, but any hunger fled, pursued by his question.
“Well? You know what I mean, Emma, don’t make me spell it out, please.”
He looked so pathetic that I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, and I struggled to find a way of telling him I wasn’t interested that didn’t sound harsh because, so far, anything I said failed to make an impression.
“Good morning! You’re looking better.”
I hadn’t heard Matthew come in and my heart jumped wildly at the sound of his voice. He walked purposefully over, kissing me lightly on the top of my head as if this level of intimacy were ritual. My pulse nearly exploded and I flushed crimson. He turned to the other two.
“Good morning, Elena, Sam,” he said pleasantly as I struggled to regain my composure. Sam’s shoulders hunched forward, his hands back in his pockets.
“Yeah, sure, and I guess that answers that question.” He conceded defeat. “Well, I expect I’ll see you around campus, Emma. Glad you’re feeling better, anyhow.”
“Thanks for coming to see me, Sam.” I offered him a smile as a token of peace and he half-heartedly returned it.
“Yeah; I’ll see you soon – sometime.”
As soon as he left the room, with Elena seeing him to the door, I faced Matthew, who had watched Sam’s retreating figure with narrowed eyes.
“You did that on purpose!” I accused him.
He looked at me innocently. “What?”
“You didn’t have to rub it in like that.”
Matthew defended himself with a grin. “I was only answering his question.”
“You heard that?”
“Well, you didn’t say anything, so I thought I’d better make the situation clear for him – it’s only fair.”
“Matthew, I don’t know what the situation is, let alone being in a position to be able to tell anyone else.”
“Don’t you?” he asked, his teasing eyes suddenly soft, leaning over me so I could feel his warmth on my skin. I kept completely still, my face raised.
“I’m not sure,” I breathed, my heart tumbling over itself to keep up. He leaned in closer, his mouth grazing my ear. “Mmm, you smell good.” He inhaled deeply, raising his right hand and running it under my wet hair. “Poor Sam,” he murmured wickedly, “he doesn’t know what he’s missing.”
I turned my face and his lips were millimetres from mine, denim eyes burning with an intensity that melted my blood.
“Still not sure?” he whispered. “Do I need to persuade you?”
“Oh! Sorry!” Elena came into the room unannounced. I jerked away from Matthew, reddening. He drew upright more slowly, eyes still on my face.
“It’s OK, Elena,” I managed to say, feeling like a teenager caught behind the bike shed.
“I… I just wanted to make sure you were eating,” she stuttered, avoiding looking at us.
Matthew recovered his poise. “Quite right, and you’ve reminded me what I wanted to tell you this morning…” We looked at him expectantly. “I bumped into the bursar and he has allocated you another apartment; you can move today – now, in fact.”
“Why, what’s wrong with this one?” I asked, looking around my cramped room to the dormer window between the eves, and the view to the mountains in the distance I loved so much.
“There’s nothing wrong except that these rooms are small, damp and cold and are not the best place to be in when recovering from ’flu. I don’t want you developing any secondary infections; besides, they need redecorating – and they can’t do that if you’re in them. The new ones are closer to Elena – and you’re moving today so we’d better get you packed.” He made for my wardrobe but I began to feel uprooted and obstinate.
“So, don’t I get any say in the matter?”
“No.”
“But… but I might not want to move.”
“Tough.”
“I think it is go
od,” Elena piped. “You argue too much.”
I started to get up.
“Stay there and eat your breakfast; this won’t take long,” Matthew said as he opened the wardrobe door. I flopped back on my bed, still too weak to argue or do anything other than comply, however unwillingly.
“Elena!” I hissed. She came over so I could whisper to her. “Please, don’t let him pack; there’s girl’s stuff – knickers, you know – in there.” I looked at her imploringly. She nodded, but Matthew had turned away from the wardrobe and chest of drawers.
“On second thoughts, I’d better concentrate on heavy items.” He cast a sideways glance at me, with a half-smile which made me wonder if he’d heard me.
I didn’t have much so it didn’t take long to get everything packed; Matthew had the bags tucked under his arm and disappeared before Elena could offer to help. She sat on the edge of my bed as I puffed getting my shoes on.
“So you and Matthew…?” she queried.
“It looks like it, doesn’t it?” I couldn’t help breaking into a jubilant grin, then coloured as I remembered the unexpected kiss, laden with meaning no matter how chastely he had placed it.
She laughed, her eyes merry. “It certainly did from where I was standing!”
“Poor Sam, though,” I said, recalling the look of deep disappointment on his face.
She flapped a hand dismissively. “Ah, he’ll get over it.”
“You’ve changed your tune a bit, haven’t you?” Elena looked puzzled. “You were on Sam’s side if I remember correctly.”
She giggled, evading the question. “But you should have seen the look on Matthew’s face when I came in; I don’t think he liked being disturbed. I think he only has eyes for you; it is very romantic. I am sorry for Sam, but Matthew is…” she trailed off, staring dreamily out of the window.
“Matthew’s what, Elena? You can’t stop now – it’s cruel. Come on – tell me.”
“I was not sure about Matthew, you know that, and I still say he is different. He is very handsome, of course – like his nephew,” she mused, “but, he is also a strong person; inside he is strong like iron, not like Sam. I have seen how he has looked after you and I think he cares for you very much. Has Matthew said anything about his wife?”
“No, and I don’t want to ask until he is ready,” I said firmly. I didn’t add that her memory still petrified me; that I felt convinced that Matthew would one day turn around and see me for who I was and that I wouldn’t be enough. I played with my cross absentmindedly. I brought the conversation back to the ordinary. “Talking of gorgeous – where’s Matias? I haven’t seen him for days.”
Elena shook her head mournfully “He’s in Oslo for a conference until Thursday. He takes his work too seriously.” She pouted; then her face lit. “We can go out as a foursome when he’s back! What fun we will have!”
“Um, well, perhaps,” I said, doubtfully; I couldn’t honestly see Matthew as the sort who would relish the prospect. “I tell you what; let’s see how things go before we arrange anything; it’s early days yet.”
“OK,” she said lightly.
Matthew returned from my new apartment.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked. I nodded and took one more look out of my window at my favourite view. He held out his hand to me, and I slid off the bed towards him, but he slipped his arm around my waist to support me, catching me by surprise.
“I can carry you if you would prefer?” he ventured. He wore a shirt in a crisp, fine fabric in a muted tone complementing his colouring. Classic without being stuffy or overly conservative, he wore it open at the neck, revealing an area of skin at the base of his throat where his collar-bone spread strongly under the cloth. If he carried me, I would be closer to him than at any other time, closer to that enticing triangle, and I could legitimately inhale his clean-air scent without him knowing. Sorely tempted, I nonetheless shook my head.
“I don’t want your wrecked back on my conscience, thanks.”
He grinned in reply and took my weight with his arm around my waist instead, almost lifting me off the ground.
Compared with my attic rooms, my new apartment seemed huge. On the floor below Elena’s, it must have been a principal room once. A full-height wall separated the kitchen from the living area, and the bedroom spanned an area at least three times the size of my previous one, with an en-suite bathroom with a bath and a shower, which didn’t drip incessantly. Much to my delight – and Elena’s envy – a working fireplace took up one wall of my bedroom; I promised her plenty of pizza and girl-talk in front of it as recompense.
Elena started to unpack my bags for me, despite my protestations that I could manage. She sent me back into the sitting-room where I could admire the best feature of all, for the windows filled the entire outside wall in Gothic arches, letting light flood into the room. Heavy velvet curtains fell as far as the deep window-seat that ran the length of the windows, and a matching box cushion softened the hard bench-top. In the distance, I could still make out the summits of the mountains, but the foreground was filled with the smouldering colours of autumn. I didn’t realize how much the trees had transformed over the few days of my illness. A fine, aged cedar stood nearest, the same one whose branches whispered against my attic windows at night. Its dark, blue-green branches provided the perfect contrast to the pulsating colours beyond.
“Acceptable?” Matthew stood close to me as I took it all in.
“Very,” I acknowledged.
“I can hear a ‘but’ in there. I know that it needs something to make it more homely, and…”
“No, it’s fine as it is; it’s lovely – but I’m not used to somebody making decisions for me; I’m not used to anybody… caring.” I bit my lip, thinking how limp that sounded and added more resolutely, “And I can still see my mountains from here.” I turned around to look at him, to be immediately taken aback by the vibrancy of his eyes in the northern light from the windows. He used them to full effect, and I needed to remember to breathe.
“Let me take you up into them when you’re fully recovered,” he offered.
I could think of nothing I would like better. “Promise?” I asked a little shyly.
“Promise.”
“I think that would be very acceptable,” I assented; “and I love this apartment; ‘flat’ is nowhere near grand enough a word to describe it.”
He reached out to catch a stray strand of my hair that curled as it dried, twisting it between his thumb and forefinger before tucking it back behind my ear in a simple, unconscious gesture, making my blood sing.
“There’s one thing I’d better mention; I’m going to be away for a day – perhaps two” – I crashed back down to reality – “and it is going to take you at least another week before you are up to tackling any mountains. So…” and he reached into one of his pockets, “… take this in case you need me.” He held out a slim, black mobile. “Elena said you lost yours. Take it, Emma – it’s for you.” He smiled at my hesitancy. I took it from him.
“Thanks,” I said, bashful again.
“I’ve put my number in the memory; you just press this button,” he said, showing me, “and I’ll be there.”
“Thanks,” I said again. “Are you going far?” It mattered, somehow.
“Some distance.”
I wanted to ask him where and why and what, but he would have told me if he wanted me to know, so I just said, “Well, I have a lot of work to catch up; that’ll keep me busy.”
If I said it enough times, perhaps I would begin to believe it. The image of the dead woman in the mutilated car flared in my memory and a sudden wave of anxiety hit me at the thought of him leaving.
“Matthew, you will take care, won’t you?”
He shook his head, trying not to laugh. “Emma, I’m not the one who’s had ’flu. You take care.”
“Doctor’s orders?” I muttered, sitting down in a big armchair, my stamina all used up.
“Something like that,” he a
greed.
Elena came in from my bedroom at that point, checking first to make sure she didn’t interrupt something.
“I’ve finished unpacking, Emma; you do not have enough clothes. What are you going to wear for All Saints?”
I peered through my fingers at her wearily. “All Saints what?”
Disbelieving, she stood with her hands on her hips, and I tried to remember something that either she had told me already or was deemed so important that I should have known about it anyway.
“If this discussion involves clothes, I think I will depart and do something more useful,” Matthew said rapidly.
I looked imploringly at him. “Please don’t leave me alone with this strange woman; she’s a dreadful bully.”
They laughed simultaneously and I pulled a face at them.
“Elena’s probably the only one who can get you to eat, so I’m leaving you to her tender mercies.”
“You’re all heart,” I grouched. He stepped forward and quickly kissed the top of my head again. “You don’t know the half of it,” he said softly. “I’ll see you again soon.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I called after his disappearing back, but he just chuckled as he left.
Chapter 12
The Journal
TIME WOVE ITS INEXORABLE PASSAGE through the following days and, now that we had come to some sort of understanding, every moment without Matthew ached. I kept the mobile fully charged and on at all times and he called me once; he sounded very far away and I heard a remoteness in his voice that seemed less to do with distance and more to do with his state of mind. I worried then, that our time apart diminished the fragile bond we had formed, unravelling like twine under the stress of separation, and I began to wonder whether his tender concern derived more from my imagination than from his making. But almost as if he sensed my apprehension, he sent me a text that had me spinning into his vortex once more.