Summer's Awakening

by Anne Weale

  'His name is Hal Cochran and he's in the construction business.'

  'I don't know any Cochrans,' said James. 'And "the construction business" covers a pretty wide field. Is that all you know about his job?'

  'Hal lays roof tiles. He's twenty-eight, he lives with his widowed mother who's in hospital at the moment, and he spends a lot of his evenings baby-sitting for his married sister. He couldn't be more respectable and harmless.'

  'A description which could probably be applied to a lot of unpleasant characters before they went berserk,' James said sardonically. 'Why isn't he married?'

  'I have no idea. Why aren't you married?' she retorted.

  'Because I agree with Sam Johnson that marriage is an unnatural state, and because I'm too involved in my work which, I imagine, is rather more satisfying and absorbing than your friend's occupation. An artisan of twenty-eight, still living at home, with a weight problem which impels him to join a predominantly female slimming class, strikes me as a pretty odd fish.'

  'Well, he isn't. He's entirely normal.'

  'How d'you know?'

  'By instinct.'

  'I think your instincts about men may not be as highly developed as those of most girls your age,' he told her. 'If I'm not mistaken, when I kissed you in the pool the night before last, it was the first time it had happened to you.'

  Her clear golden skin was suffused by a wave of warmer colour. Had he no sensitivity that he didn't know what it did to her to be told, with unsparing bluntness, that no one had kissed her until she was twenty-two?

  'I think, after the next meeting, you should bring him back here for coffee and let me be the judge of whether he's harmless or not,' James went on. 'But even if he is, I shouldn't have thought you had much in common.'

  Before she could reply, Emily reappeared in her new top, which was probably just as well because she had been on the brink of losing her temper, Summer realised.

  After dinner, James went out to visit some friends. Emily was disappointed—she had been hoping he would take her up to his room and put the computer through some more of its paces.

  'But actually the one upstairs is obsolete now,' she told Summer. 'His newest one has a mouse, which is a gadget which makes it much easier to use a computer. James says it will take people forty minutes to learn what used to take forty hours with the first generation of computers.'

  Presently, finding her enthusiasm for computers a little hard to share, Summer asked her to look up the lion's paw shell in her new book.

  Emily consulted the index and turned to the page indicated.

  'It doesn't say much about it. The Lion's Paw. Lyropecten nodosus. Found in Florida and the West Indies. It belongs to the group known as Eastern American Scallops. A strong heavy shell, 3-5 inches. A collector's favourite. Why are you interested in it, Summer?'

  'Because I saw a beautiful necklace with a lion's paw as the pendant in Burdines yesterday. But it cost a great deal of money. Too much, considering that even a strong shell is still quite fragile.'

  'Oh, I see.' Emily began to read the descriptions of other shells and soon was deeply absorbed.

  Summer would have liked to become equally absorbed in her embroidery book. But James's remarks about Hal interfered with her concentration.

  The annoying thing was that, in one particular, he had been right; she had little in common with Hal other than their need to lose weight. She had long since discovered that books, her refuge and solace, had no place in his life. Similarly none of his interests—baseball, bowling, clay pigeon shooting—had any appeal to her.

  Realising their lack of rapport, she had tried to avoid always leaving the meetings with him and had been at pains to make friends with other women in the class. But it had been difficult to shake him off without being actively unkind. He was lonely and he liked her. How could she brush him off when, at the beginning, his friendliness had done so much for her morale?

  'Hi, Summer. How did you do?' a friend asked her at the next meeting.

  'Two pounds down. How did you do?'

  The other girl groaned. 'Up half a pound. It must be water retention. I've been starving all week.'

  As they chatted, Summer was aware of Hal at the back of the class. When it was over, he was waiting for her by the door. They walked to her car together, discussing Eleanor's lecture and the fortnightly module.

  'Friday's my birthday,' he said suddenly. 'I'd like to take you out to dinner. I thought you'd enjoy the dinner cruise on the paddle-wheel steamer berthed down on Bayfront Drive?'

  How could she refuse when he looked at her so hopefully?

  'Thank you, Hal. That sounds fun,' she answered.

  'I'll pick you up at a quarter of seven—okay?'

  'Fine. I'll be looking forward to it.'

  'Coming for a coffee?'

  'Not tonight—I have to get back. I'll see you on Friday.'

  Next day, although he knew she had been to a meeting the night before, James didn't ask why she hadn't carried out his instruction to bring Hal to the house.

  On Friday morning, she told Mrs Hardy she would be out for dinner that night. But she didn't say anything to Emily until she was going up to change.

  'Where are you going?' Emily asked.

  'I've been invited to a birthday dinner on board the paddle-boat. By a Weight Watchers friend,' she added casually.

  'Lucky you. I wish I were coming.'

  'If it's fun, perhaps we'll go on a lunch cruise for your next birthday treat,' said Summer.

  She was ready and waiting on the doorstep when Hal drove up in his Ford Escort.

  'That's some house!' he said admiringly, taking in its balconied façade and blossoming creepers.

  She felt relieved when he had installed her in the passenger seat and they were moving down the drive. Her employer's bedroom was on the bay side of the building. It was unlikely he had seen her departure. She wondered how he would react when he learnt she was out on a date with the man who had sounded to him 'a pretty odd fish'. Anyway, it was none of his business what she did in her free time, she told herself firmly.

  Hal was in high spirits. But, considering it was her first time out with a man—apart from the two disastrous foursome dates at Oxford—her own mood was not buoyant. James, damn him, had succeeded in making her feel like a rebellious teenager sneaking out on an illicit date with a boy her family disapproved of.

  She could tell that Hal had had some beer before he picked her up, but that didn't mean he was going to be drunk by the end of the evening. One can was enough to make a man's breath smell beery. If it hadn't been for her employer's homily, probably she wouldn't have noticed it.

  Midway along Sarasota's curving, palm-treed waterfront was Island Park, a man-made islet dredged from the bay bottom to provide berths for game-fishing charter boats, excursion craft and private yachts.

  As they left the car on the parking lot and walked past a row of gift shops towards the Marina Jack restaurant and, moored alongside, Marina Jack II, the floating restaurant, she was glad of the black crochet shawl Mrs Hardy had lent her as a wrap.

  Not that the evening was cold. A slight breeze had sprung up since sunset and was rustling the palm fronds, and the temperature had dropped a few degrees. But the other women she saw were only wearing blazers or showercoats over their dresses. She felt chilly because she was nervous.

  They were a little early. The steamer hadn't started taking on passengers.

  'She was built here in Florida as an authentic reproduction of a pool boat,' said Hal, as they waited to go on board. 'When dams were built along the Upper Mississippi and Ohio Rivers, they reduced the bridge clearance in the pools above them. So this kind of boat developed, with the pilot house forward and short or folding smoke stacks. Boats like this pushed fleets of wood and coal barges. She had two independent paddle-wheels at the other end. Now she runs on diesel but she would have run on coal in the old days.'

  'You seem very knowledgeable,' Summer said. Are you interest
ed in American river history?'

  He grinned and shook his head. 'I read all that on the souvenir menu. I've been on this cruise before—on my sister's birthday.'

  She was disappointed. Listening to his explanation, she had hoped that it indicated a serious interest which she could use to confute James's snobbish assumption that, because Hal laid tiles and she taught, he was an unsuitable companion for her.

  She glanced at her watch. There was some time to wait before the steamer was due to embark. Emily knew about the dinner cruise—supposing she told her uncle and he took it into his head to come down here and make her go home with him?

  No, no—of course he wouldn't. He might read the riot act tomorrow, but he wouldn't go to the lengths of behaving like a tyrannical Victorian paterfamilias. If—and the idea was absurd—he did attempt to break up her date, she would refuse to go with him and Hal would support her refusal. He wasn't as tall as James, but he was a big, burly man, not the kind to be bullied or brushed aside by other men.

  Yet, visualising a confrontation between them, she doubted that Hal would stand up to James.

  Hal was born to take orders; James to give them. For almost six hundred years, since one of his forbears had helped King Henry V to win the Battle of Agincourt, the pedigree of his family was scattered with the names of leaders, either military men or influential statesmen. It was only during the twentieth century that the Lancasters had failed to produce any outstanding men until he, using another name, had become a leading figure in the revolutionary field of computer science.

  James would only have to display the autocratic manner of which she had seen a few glimpses, and take an authoritative tone, and Hal would defer to him as instinctively as a private soldier to his commanding officer.

  It was not until they were on board, seated at one of the tables in the dining saloon, with the steamer free of her moorings and beginning to move into Little Sarasota Bay, that she was able to relax.

  'Oh, I almost forgot,' she exclaimed. 'I have a present for you.'

  It had been difficult to know what to give him. He didn't read and wasn't a lover of music, so she had settled for a bottle of aftershave lotion.

  'Many happy returns of the day, Hal,' she said, as she handed him the gift-wrapped package.

  He was almost embarrassingly pleased with the uninspired gift; so much so that she was made to feel she had given him something very personal whereas her intention had been to choose something as impersonal as possible.

  The head waiter—or perhaps in a floating restaurant he was called the chief steward—presented them with menus written in a curious mixture of English and French. Reading hers, she found herself imagining the amused curl of the lips which would be James's reaction to it.

  'I don't know how you feel, but I'm sure not dieting tonight—not on this special occasion,' said Hal, giving her a look which made her feel sure he meant it was dining with her rather than celebrating his birthday which made it special. 'I'm going to start with the seafood crêpe followed by the prime ribs of beef,' he decided. 'How about you, honey?'

  The endearment increased her unease. 'I'd like to try the French onion soup and the filet of Florida grouper, please.'

  He wanted her to have a cocktail beforehand. When she asked if she might have a glass of wine, he ordered a bottle for them to share, although she felt sure he would have preferred to drink beer.

  Searching for a tactful way to keep the conversation on a safe track, she said, 'I wonder if there's a Weight Watchers class in Nantucket? I hope so. I don't want to miss any classes before I've completed my sixteen consecutive weeks and got my first award.'

  'You're going to Nantucket? When?' he asked, looking surprised.

  'I don't know for certain. Probably some time next month. It sounds a very interesting place.'

  'Hell, I didn't realise you'd be leaving as soon as that. When'll you be back?'

  'I've no idea, Hal. We're entirely dependent on Emily's uncle's decisions.'

  'What kind of guy is he?'

  'A very high-powered, dynamic businessman. You must have heard of Oz computers.'

  'Oh, sure. Who hasn't? With a big house on Bay Shore Road I guess he has to be a vice-president.'

  'He's higher than that. He's the king-pin.'

  'Is that so?' He gave a low whistle. 'You must have a pretty good job, working for someone like that. I guess you wouldn't want to give it up... living in style... travelling around, and everything.'

  'Not only for those reasons, I'm very attached to Emily. I hope to stay with her till she's at least seventeen, which is just over three years.'

  'How about if some guy comes along you like more than you like her?'

  'I shouldn't want to get married before I was twenty-five anyway. I think marrying young is a mistake. Afterwards people regret all the things they didn't have time to do before they settled down. In my case, being overweight, I've missed a lot of the fun most girls have from eighteen to my age. I'm twenty-two and this is my first dinner date!'

  'It won't be your last, that's for sure. You get prettier every time I see you. By the time you get your award, you're going to have guys standing in line for a date with you,' he told her.

  She laughed. 'Somehow I doubt that. I suppose when you hit your target, you'll stop going to classes?'

  'Not if you're still around.'

  'I shall be in Nantucket,' she reminded him, although she knew he had only a few pounds more to lose before he was ready to change to the Maintenance Program. 'Oh, look—we're going through the causeway.'

  They stopped talking to look at the lines of cars waiting for the steamer to pass into the wider expanse of water north of the causeway. Soon, on the mainland, they could see the lights of the blocks of apartments where Anita Adams lived, and the floodlights illuminating the armadillo-shape of the Van Wezel hall.

  'If we're taking this route you'll be able to see your place,' said Hal. Sometimes they go around Bird Key and sometimes down into Roberts Bay by Siesta Key. But tonight they're going north and the turnaround point should be near the Ringling Mansion. Have you been in there?'

  'Yes, soon after we arrived here.'

  'Did you ever see anywhere like it? Your boss has a fancy house, but not like the Ringling Mansion. That's really something.'

  "Yes... extraordinary,' she agreed, her inward ear hearing the echo of James saying, Let me be the judge of whether he's harmless or not, but even if he is I shouldn't have thought you had much in common.

  Reluctant as she was to admit that he had been right, she knew that the kind, lonely man on the other side of the table would, if she were to live with him, bore her to tears in three months.

  It wasn't his fault that he had never heard of Petra, the 'rose-red city "half as old as Time"', or the water-lily pool in Monet's garden at Giverny, or 'many-tower'd Camelot'; but it was a barrier between them of which he wasn't even aware.

  To him the Ringling Mansion was one of the wonders of the world. To her it didn't compare with Baile del Sol which had probably cost a fraction as much to build but had been inspired by the houses of Spanish grandees, while Ca'd'Zan was a hybrid of Mabel Ringling's two favourite buildings, the Doge's palace in Venice and the old Madison Square Garden in New York City.

  Her preference for James Gardiner's house was reinforced later in the cruise when they saw both houses from the Bay. The Ringling Mansion was set close to the water's edge, its ornate façade constructed from shiploads of arches and windows brought to Florida from Europe, and dominated by a great tower from which, when the Ringlings were in residence, a bright light had beamed like a beacon.

  Baile del Sol was partially screened from the Bay by the tall palms which shadowed its lawns. The soft glow of shaded table-lamps outlined the windows of the living room and, upstairs, of the landing and James's room.

  Had she known nothing about either building, it would have been the smaller, less showy house which would have intrigued her, but she doubted if Hal would agr
ee.

  He finished his meal with a piece of Florida lime pie and tried to persuade her to join him. But Summer resisted and, later, wouldn't let him coax her to have one of what the menu described as Speciality Coffees with Assorted Liquors and Whipped Cream.

  Considering what their dinner was going to cost him, she wasn't impressed by the food. However, as he had dined on board before, he must find it satisfactory.

  It wasn't late when the steamer returned to her berth.

  'Would you like to go dancing?' he asked.

  It made her feel guilty to admit it, even to herself, but the truth was that by now she was longing to be in bed, reading. Listening to Hal describing the wonders of Walt Disney World which, regarding it as Florida's principal attraction, he was amazed they hadn't visited yet, had made the past hour rather boring.

  They were planning to go and see Disney World, but it was the house on Key West where Ernest Hemingway had written For Whom The Bell Tolls and A Farewell To Arms which was at the top of her personal sightseeing list.

  'I don't think I should be out late tonight, Hal. Mr Gardiner is down here at the moment, and I don't want to give the impression that I'm turning into a social butterfly. I'd like to go home now, if you don't mind.'

  He didn't argue but clearly he was disappointed. She felt mean for curtailing his birthday celebration. At the same time she couldn't face spending another hour or two with him in a dark smoky disco.

  Hal turned off at Indian Beach Drive, as Summer usually did to get home, and reduced speed to a slow glide through the quiet residential area. Summer began to wonder if he meant to kiss her goodnight.

  From reading Ann Landers' advice column in the Sarasota Herald-Tribune, she knew that a lot of men expected more than a kiss in return for dining and wining a girl, but she didn't think Hal was the type to make a heavy pass on the strength of one date. After her efforts to keep the evening on a friendly basis, he might not expect even to kiss her.

  A week ago it was possible she could have acquiesced to being kissed out of sheer curiosity to know what it felt like to have a man's lips pressed to hers. Since then she had learnt what it felt like. James had not only filled that gap in her education but taken it considerably further, holding her close in his arms, making her feel his reaction to the contact with her naked flesh.