He hated to admit it, but Deirdre hit a nerve. “Once Julia goes home...”
He glanced at the calendar strewn haphazardly on his desk and noted a date he circled. “Julia, Airport,” it read.
Deirdre was wrong. Nothing would be better when Julia left. He enjoyed being with her, looked forward to it, felt buoyed knowing his day would be spent with her. He missed her already, just thinking of her impending departure.
But Julia had to leave. She had a life back home, and, as Polly discreetly mentioned to him, a boyfriend.
“Face it,” Sam said to himself as he reached for his keys. “She doesn’t need you. You’re just her tour guide.” He checked his appearance in an oval wall mirror. “And you don’t need her.”
An hour later, on their way to Westminster Abbey, Sam and Julia sat side by side on the London Underground. Julia seemed unusually reserved and Sam wondered if the encounter with Deirdre the night before bothered her more than she let on.
“You’re quiet today, Julia.” Sam said. “Homesick?”
“No. Not at all. I’m happy here, Sam.”
But she didn’t look happy. She seemed worried, nervous or sad. He couldn’t read her.
They both fell silent again, and didn’t speak until the train reached their destination.
Ascending from the Underground, they walked to Westminster. Sam pointed out various historical landmarks as Julia snapped pictures.
They ended their walking tour at the north entrance to Westminster Abbey. Sam escorted her into the church and paid for their tour.
“It’s pretty quiet today,” he whispered, as they joined a small group of tourists and guide.
Sam and Julia listened intently as the guide explained the history of the great Abbey and told of the famous people buried there. As the tour drew to a close, their guide invited them to walk about on their own, enjoy the beauty and solitude of the nave and cloisters, or simply take a few moments to light a candle and pray. Sam gently took Julia by the elbow and guided her through the cloisters and into the nave.
“Shall we sit for a bit?” Sam pointed to a set of chairs. They sat side by side, again in silence, amid the vast beauty of the church.
“This is my favorite part of the Abbey,” Sam said, as the other tourists eventually wandered off. His deep voice resonated like music in the still and silent air.
“It is quiet,” Julia said. “But nice.”
“Yes quite.”
Nice? He knew, given her love of England and her knowledge of its history, that she felt more about the Abbey. Big Ben was “nice”. Westminster was so much more.
Sam glanced over at Julia, but her expression was blank. Something was still wrong. Where was the happy girl of yesterday? He wanted to see her joy again.
He drew a deep breath and reached for her hand. She didn’t pull away. He spoke softly. “I’ve shown you sites in London, Julia, but this is England. And I don’t mean the chapel per se. England is in the history buried here. Can you hear it, Julia? Can you feel it? Shakespeare, Chaucer and Lord Byron beneath us. The composer, Handel, and believe it or not, even some actors lie here as well. Then there are the lords and ladies and kings and queens entombed, secrets buried with them.” Sam searched her face again, knowing in his heart that Julia must be the one who understood the passion entombed in these great walls. “Do you feel it, Julia? Do you sense it?”
Julia’s voice was barely a whisper. “I feel it, Sam, I really do.” She squeezed his hand and for the first time that day, smiled.
“Sometimes I swear I can hear the silent voices forever stilled,” Sam continued, buoyed by her response. “I feel love that lives forever. Many a queen and nobleman went to the block rather than deny their faith, their lover, or their beliefs.”
Julia’s eyes met his. “I feel them, Sam.”
She knew. She understood.
Sam leaned towards her, caught up in the way Julia’s blue eyes burned with the passion he felt in his heart. He gently cupped her chin and pulled her close.
Julia lifted her lips to his. He could feel her breath close and hot against his own.
“Once Julia goes home…” Deirdre’s words slashed the air between them, clanging louder and louder in Sam’s mind, as if bells tolling for the dead. Sam released Julia and stood.
“Sam, what’s wrong?”
Sam gazed down at her. A world of hurt and confusion marred her lovely face and the distress in her eyes would haunt him forever.
“I’m sorry, I-” He ran his hands through his hair; words eluded him.
Julia stood, looking everywhere but at him. “No, that’s okay. I didn’t mean -”
Sam shook his head and held up his hand. He couldn’t bear it if she felt guilty of anything. This was his fault. His emotions got the best of him.
“We better go.” He hoped to gloss over the previous moment with an air of nonchalance. “You’re probably hungry and I need a smoke.”
Julia shook her head and walked past him towards the entrance to the cloisters.
Sam watched her walk away.
“Damn you, Deirdre,” he said, under his breath. “Damn you.”
Chapter Nineteen
Julia sat silent, barely hearing Sam’s monotonous liturgy of small talk as they rode the Underground to his flat. He prattled on about landmarks and the history of street names but she hardly registered a word, her thoughts lost in what happened, or didn’t happen, at Westminster.
She had been so sure Sam wanted to kiss her, and then he didn’t. And then, as she walked away, she heard him mention Deirdre. Had she imagined he tried to kiss her? Or did she try to kiss him? And if so, what was she thinking? Hadn’t she convinced herself this morning that she wasn’t in love with Sam?
Julia recalled her breakfast conversation with Mrs. McTeel. The kind lady hinted that Julia belonged with Sam. But in the Abbey, Sam thought of Deirdre!
Julia sighed. He didn’t need or want her. She had half a mind to go home early. That would show him!
They arrived at his flat and Sam asked her to wait outside while he went in and retrieved a picnic lunch. Julia fumed as she waited on the steps. How could he act like things between them hadn’t changed?
On his return with a large wicker basket, Sam resumed his chatter as they rode a bus to St. James Park. Did he even notice how quiet she’d become? He selected a lunch spot near a willow tree and duck pond. As Sam spread a red and white checkered tablecloth on the grass, Julia watched in silence, purposely not offering to help. He set out an appetizing lunch of cheese, bread, fruit and wine. Uncorking the bottle, he poured the beverage into two plastic cups and invited her to sit. She sat, and he handed her a cup.
“I don’t drink,” she said, and placed the cup on the tablecloth. “You know that.”
“Nor do you have to,” Sam replied, his voice kind and undemanding. “But if you want it, it’s there. I also brought water.” He handed her a paper plate. “You do eat, yes?”
“Yes, I eat, thank you.” She accepted the plate and filled it with an assortment of items. Chewing delicately on a grape, she looked towards the pond, aware of Sam’s eyes on her as she watched the small ripples lap at the shore.
“Are you happy here?” His question came from nowhere and unnerved her.
As she turned to him to answer, the memory of his lips so near to her own caused the heat to rise in her cheeks. Why wouldn’t that moment leave her mind and why did he stare at her as if he knew exactly what she thought?
“Well, of course I am happy! This has been my dream forever. I’m in England. What more could I want?” She threw a piece of cheese to a stray duck.
“You don’t seem happy today.” Sam leaned on his elbows and studied her. “I was just thinking you might miss someone at home.”
She avoided his eyes, afraid if she looked at him, her anger would melt beneath his gaze. “I miss my father, although I’ll be seeing him soon. And I talk with Kim every day on the phone, and-”
“I meant your b
oyfriend.” Sam reached for his wine.
Julia startled. “How do you know I have a boyfriend?”
“Polly mentioned it one morning while I waited for you. I’m just surprised you never mentioned him.”
Julia unconsciously reached for her drink and took a small sip. Surprisingly, she found the wine sweet and pleasant. “Well, it’s not serious.” She suffered a pang of guilt. John was certainly serious about her.
“What does that mean?”
“It means what it means,” she said. “What about you?”
“No, I don’t have a boyfriend,” Sam answered with a twinkle in his eye. “Although sometimes Polly feels as if I’m headed that way.”
“Very funny.” Julia reached for more cheese and another sip of wine. “She does worry about you though.”
“Yes, well she’s worried that I will end up an old bachelor or, worse yet, married to Deirdre.”
Julia saw her opening and ran with it. Feeling emboldened by either the peacefulness of the pond, or the spirit of the wine, she forged ahead.
“I heard you mention her as we left the Abbey.”
Sam rolled onto his back, studying the sky. “Oh bloody hell! If Deirdre had her way, she and I’d be married and living in her mansion surrounded by all her blue-blood friends.”
“She’s very beautiful,” Julia tested.
“So are you.” He turned and looked at her.
“She’s rich, Sam.” His compliments would not sidetrack her from the answers she needed.
Sam sat up. “She’s not you.”
Julia smiled, but before she could respond, Sam continued. “Ah. But then again, you have ‘the non-serious’ boyfriend waiting for you at home.”
“Stop it!” Julia could take the bait and switch no longer. “Why do you always do that?”
“What is it that I do?”
“You act like you like me, and then in the next sentence you make my life sound silly or completely dismiss me.”
“What are you talking about?” Sam looked away and Julia realized he knew exactly what she meant. But she was undeterred. She wanted answers.
“Back in the church, you wanted to kiss me, and then you stopped. And now you tease me about my relationship back home!” Julia’s fists curled. “ What does it matter to you if John is a boyfriend?”
Sam took a deep breath. He stared at the wine bottle as he spoke, his voice laced with anger. “Because I don’t know what to do about you. You have a boyfriend in America and you have to leave me soon. How can I even think about acting on my feelings for you?” He gazed out at the pond. “Do you even care?”
Julia became alive at his words. He did have feelings for her. He wasn’t angry; he was as frustrated with this situation as she was.
“John isn’t a boyfriend in the way you might think,” she stared at the tablecloth, unable to look at Sam, embarrassed about her relationship. “I’m not in love with him, not like I should be. He’s been a friend forever, and so, in high school, it just seemed natural to have someone to go out with. I know that there should be more, that I should feel differently.”
“How does he feel about you?”
“He says he loves me, but I don’t think he knows what love is either. I’m his first girlfriend.”
“I see,” Sam said. “So you’re having a relationship with a guy who may or may not really love you, and you’re staying in the relationship until somebody better comes along?”
Julia reached for her drink, and finished the sweet wine. “No. I never meant to use John. I guess I just didn’t know how different my feelings could be until I met-”
Julia stopped herself. She looked over to Sam and his eyes met hers.
“I know, Julia. I know. I didn’t know what I was missing in my own relationships either, until lately.”
“Really?” She beamed.
“My family always stressed I should marry Deirdre,” he said. “Thing is, I’ve never been attracted to her. Yes, she’s beautiful, rich, what have you, but there’s something missing between us. I could never talk with her about things important to me. You and I talked about those things the first night we met. I can talk with you about the things I’m passionate about and your eyes don’t glaze over in boredom.”
“I love to hear about your work!”
“Exactly my point, Julia. You understand me.” Sam reached across the tablecloth and took her hand in his. “But, very soon, I must put you on a plane and send you away.”
“Don’t make me cry.” The thought of leaving became more painful by the moment.
“I never intend to make you cry again,” he said, his eyes earnest. “I felt horrible when you cried in the theater.”
“I was an idiot.”
“No. You’re still in pain from your mother’s death, and disappointed that you can’t pursue acting.” He reached up and pushed a long strand of her hair gently behind her ear. “Understandable.”
“Thank you.”
Sam moved closer. “Why have I fallen for someone who has to leave me?”
Julia looked up at the strong, handsome face she adored. “Move to the U.S.”
Sam threw his head back and laughed. “If only that were possible. But my career will keep me here for now. But I want to know you better, to have more time with you.”
“I wish I could stay longer.”
“Julia, that day I came to the square to hear you sing, I was supposed to return to London. Call it fate, what have you, but I stayed, watched you sing, and I felt, for the first time in my life, a connection with someone. And I can’t shake it, Julia, nor do I think I want to.”
Sam enveloped her in his arms pulling her close so she rested against his chest. She relaxed against Sam, enjoying the security of his embrace and the warmth of the sun. Together they sat silent for a moment, and watched two graceful swans swim side by side. She wanted to stay lost in this moment forever. She hoped Sam felt the same.
“It’s been a beautiful day, Sam. Thank you.” She turned her face up to his, anticipating the feel of his lips against her own.
Sam looked into her eyes but released her from his arm, his voice gentle. “We should get going. It will be dark soon.”
“Sam?” Julia’s confusion overwhelmed her and she could not handle the rejection, yet again.
Sam packed the picnic items. “I care about you, and this just can’t go further. I respect you too much, Julia. You’re leaving in a week and I might not see you again.”
Julia swallowed her pain. “Then what am I supposed to do? Pretend that these feelings don’t exist? I can’t do that, Sam. And I’m not writing you off because I have to go home. There are such things as phones and mail.”
Sam shooed her off the tablecloth so he could fold it. “You should really use this type of conviction on your father about acting.”
“Stop changing the subject!” She rose and crossed her arms as if the gesture might somehow contain her frustration.
Sam dropped the tablecloth and walked to where she stood. “Julia. How can I promise you any relationship, long-distanced or otherwise, when I don’t even know where I’m going to be in six months? My career-” His eyes grew wide as he glanced at his watch. “Oh bloody hell! My agent said he’d call this afternoon. Look at the time! Quickly, quickly now, help me pack up. We need to hurry to my flat for the call.”
“I know that’s important,” Julia said, not moving an inch to help. “But what about us?”
Sam put the last of the supplies in the basket. His voice fell flat. “I think it’s best that, after today, we part ways. You know your way around London well enough to go it alone. You’ll have plenty of company with Polly, too. I’ll arrange for Barnabas to drive you back to the airport next week.”
“Sam, no-” What have I done?
“It’s hard for me to think of you on that plane.” Sam wouldn’t look at her. “I hate this, but I should let you go. In the long run, it’s for the best.”
“It’s not!” Julia’s voi
ce rose and she resisted the urge to shake him. How could he give up so easily? “What ever happened to ‘tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all’?”
“Have you loved and lost, Julia?”
“My mother.”
Sam sighed, his exasperation evident. “I meant, have you ever been romantically in love with someone and lost them?”
Julia looked down. “No.”
“Yes. Well then.” He finished the last of the packing and stood. “Neither have I, on purpose. I can’t risk the pain, Julia. I’ve had enough of it in my life and I think you have too.”
Sam turned and headed towards the sidewalk.
Julia watched him walk away, her wounded heart searing open with every step he took.
Chapter Twenty
During the bus ride to his flat, Sam lit one cigarette after another. Small talk was no use as he sensed Julia’s anger and disappointment. He tried to concentrate on the call waiting for him, but his mind fixated on Julia, the way she felt in his arms at lunch and how it took every ounce of his strength not to kiss her. He reminded himself that the pain they felt now was nothing compared to what it would be like to start something and have to part. She needed to understand that. He needed to accept it as well, although every physical touch from her, even the soft brush of her hip against his as they now sat side by side, urged him otherwise. He did want her. He needed her in his life. But their destinies ran parallel with no intersection in sight.
With only silence between them, the bus ride lasted forever, but finally they reached their destination. Sam and Julia departed the vehicle and walked the rest of the way to Sam’s flat.
At the top step to his building Sam stubbed out his cigarette. “I’m not sure how long this phone call will take, Julia. You should come up.”
“I’ll wait here, thanks.” She crossed her arms and looked down the street.
Sam sighed, impatient to get to the phone. “That’s incredibly noble of you, love, but I don’t live in the safest part of town.”
“I’m a big girl. I’ll be fine.”
Sam ran his hand through his hair. “Look. I’m sorry you’re angry with me, but please be angry in my flat. At least I’ll know you’re angry and alive.”
A Lonely Sky Page 10