The Girl in the Scarlet Chair: A New Adult and Clean Romance with Supernatural Elements (City of Affection - Book 1)

by Janice Tremayne

  “No, just the photo—also what Marjorie explained to me. Maybe you should check the photo because she is stunning—hopefully you haven’t deleted it?” Matt sipped on his beer and took a deep breath. “They are not like the girls here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They are simple and not pretentious. Always smiling, and in moments of adversity they have their faith and believe everything will turn out fine.”

  “That sounds refreshing.” Harry was becoming interested. “Tell me more?”

  “They are close to their families and celebrate special events together. Happy with what they have—don’t overspend on things.”

  “Bargain hunters?”

  “Something like that—they are frugal and like to save … although it can be hard making a living on their wage. They don’t get paid like you and me.”

  “I heard they like foreigners because they want our money,” Harry said.

  “Like any country, you have your gold diggers that can’t be trusted—this is where you need to take some precautions and do your due diligence.”

  “Did you check Alicia before you travelled to Manila?”

  “I guess I did ask the right questions while we were chatting and I’m sure she was aware of it.” Matt sculled the rest of his beer and took a deep breath. “I suppose I had nothing to lose because I like visiting other countries—at worst she would have been my tour guide and nothing else.”

  “I see your point … I will check Clarisse’s photo when I get back tonight.”

  “Oh, and don’t take too long. The girl is hot property and men are lining up for her.”

  “She is that pretty?”

  “Absolutely, and she has recently set up a profile on Skype—that might be a good way to start a conversation; it will be low-key.” Matt paused and leaned over to him with a fatherly expression. “I understand what you have been through with your marriage breakdown, and your point of view about women at the moment. But chatting is harmless as long as you don’t promise anything and keep your money in your wallet.”

  “What do you mean, Matt?”

  “A genuine woman from Manila will not ask you for anything even if they need it—they have pride. Alicia never asked me for anything when I was with her—she even paid her own meal many times.”

  “Well … that’s a good way of finding out their true intent—I will keep that in mind.”

  As was their custom every time they got together, the steak sandwich was their choice of food accompanied by more beer.

  After his meal with Matt, Harry returned home and dashed towards his laptop.

  Need to find this photo Matt sent me, he thought.

  He opened Matt’s messages and searched for the photo. And there she was—the beautiful Clarisse, sitting on an antique scarlet chesterfield chair. He blinked his eyes several times and looked again.

  Thank God I did not delete it, he thought.

  Her long brown hair, almond eyes and perfectly rounded face supplemented her charismatic smile. She was a beacon for the soul and her looks were mesmerising. The photo was an invitation—a calling card to get to know her intimately. Harry was captivated, and each time he looked at her photo, he would look at it longer and longer. He succumbed and saved her picture as a screensaver before resting his laptop on his bedside table.

  Can you fall in love with a picture? he thought.

  Harry set up his profile on Skype and searched for Clarisse’s details as instructed by Matt. The next step was to send the invitation and wait for the response. According to Matt, she was waiting to be invited to connect and start the conversation. All he had to do was be ready for the reply.

  The next morning Clarisse responded with a warm greeting and more photos of herself. He opened the message—it contained a request to chat in one hour.

  Should I accept or not? he thought. I’m not ready or presentable.

  The clock was ticking, and time was running out—he needed to decide soon.

  He went to the bathroom to wash up and looked straight into the mirror. He hadn’t shaved for three days and looked scruffy. His hair was messy, it was too long and untidy. He had let himself go because his appearance meant nothing anymore. Harry had given up on women—and the man who once prided himself on his meticulous appearance was a shadow of his former self.

  So, what do I do now—look at me, who would find me attractive? he thought.

  He turned his face away from the mirror in disgust and then glanced over again at his image. Lowering his head slightly, he clasped his forehead with his left hand while he leaned on the sink. A teardrop of discontent balanced on his right eyelid, and then went rushing down onto the basin below. He was remorseful for what he had become—a desensitised, straightforward sort of guy only interested in his everyday struggles with life.

  In a spur of anger, he picked up the first object in front of him, a bottle of Versace Blue Jeans perfume, and threw it against the wall with the force of a wrecking ball—sending pieces of glass smashing in all directions, including the mirror. He placed both hands on his forehead and stood motionless for a while, contemplating what he had just done.

  Precisely what she wanted me to become—an out-of-control man that has given up on life, he thought.

  His ex-wife was a constant torment to him—she made sure of it. Legal threats, no cooperation and a deep-seated agenda to back him into a corner. She wanted him to bite back like a vicious viper—it gave her absolute satisfaction. Harry was going to have none of it, and from this point on would take back control of his life. He wanted to be the man he once was—the considerate person who believed a problem represented nothing more than a journey to an eventful solution. The positive guy that made others feel happy through his joyfulness, encouragement, and thought-provoking and uncanny expressions.

  For the next hour, he cleaned himself up to look respectable again. If he was going to have a live chat with Clarisse on webcam, his appearance had to improve. He was punching above his weight with her beauty. He needed to work on his looks to give himself a chance. Matt had not provided Clarisse with any photos of him, he’d just given her a detailed description of his likes and dislikes. He would need to live up to the well-intended, but exaggerated commentary that Matt had provided to Marjorie.

  Harry was logged into Skype waiting for the call from Clarisse. He waited patiently—five, ten, then fifteen minutes and still nothing. He checked the international time zone to make sure it was the right time. Manila was three hours behind during the summer daylight savings time—he was not sure if Clarisse would have allowed for the extra hour.

  I think I will make myself a coffee and come back, he thought.

  Thirty minutes had passed and still no call. Harry lay back on the chair, scratched his head and sighed. Maybe the information was wrong and the confusion with the time zones added to the complexity. He was not one to blame others—that was not his nature, he always felt there was an explanation for everything. He decided to wait a little longer before calling it quits. Another thirty minutes had passed and still no call. Harry stood up from the chair and put his hands on his side, stretching both sides of his back to remove the stiffness resulting from his seated posture.

  Precisely on the hour, he received a message with instructions to click the answer button. Next to the link was a profile photo of Clarisse. He was so captivated by her beauty that he nearly fell under a spell and off his seat—almost forgetting to answer the call.

  “Hello, this is Clarisse. Can you see me on your screen?” It was a sweet voice with an American accent.

  “Yeah, hi, Clarisse. It’s me, Harry. I can see you well. Can you see me?”

  “I can hear you, but I can’t see you. Do you want to try clicking on the icon with the webcam?” While he was staring at her video stream, he had forgotten to activate his webcam.

  “Oh yeah … I got it. Is that better?” Harry said.

  Clarisse smiled as her attractive face appeared in front of his eye
s. The image consumed him—he struggled for words. “Harry, I can see you now. It looks like we have made a connection.”

  “It looks like you’re talking to me from the room next door. Isn’t that amazing?”

  “Same here at my end. You are so clear I can almost touch you.” Clarisse smiled, placing her finger on the webcam to simulate the effect.

  “I felt that touch.” Harry liked her sense of humour.

  “I realised when I was calling you that our international clock was wrong and forgot to take into account the extra hour for daylight savings.”

  “You know about daylight savings?” Harry asked.

  “Yes, I work in a call centre—I need to be aware of it for our US callers … they set the clock forward one hour during their summer.” She looked directly at the webcam, her piercing almond eyes and long eyelashes emphasised on the screen.

  “It’s OK, Clarisse, and no bother. Now that we have this down pat it won’t be a problem for next time.”

  “So, Harry … what do you know about me besides the picture you have?”

  “Not a lot, other than what my friend who travelled to Manila to meet up with Alicia has told me. He also spoke about Marjorie—how are you and Marjorie related?”

  “Marjorie and I are childhood friends—we grew up in the same street. She got me the job in the company some years ago, and we live close to each other here in Manila.”

  “Well, that explains it …” Harry said.

  “What about you and your friend … I have forgotten his name?” Clarisse asked.

  “The person who is speaking with Alicia?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh … that’s my best friend Matt and he’s the one that gave me your photo.” Harry shifted in his chair to make himself comfortable.

  “I think they caught up a couple of times while I was in my hometown. But Marjorie told me about him.” Clarisse adjusted her wavy hair in front of the webcam and held it back with a band. “It’s amazing that I am talking to you—thousands of miles away and connected through a circle of friends.”

  “The world is becoming smaller all the time—now you can meet people from other parts of the world and not just in your backyard.” Harry could see in the webcam video that he was starting to slump over. He adjusted his pose so that he could appear attentive.

  “I want to know more about you, Harry. Marjorie did not give me too much information about you.”

  “Sure, I think I can give you a snapshot of me.” He shifted in his chair and leaned forward so that Clarisse could get a better view of him. “My marriage did not work out after two years—I have recently divorced, and I’m single again. I live on my own in an apartment and I work as a consultant for an information technology company.”

  “Marjorie told me you also like fixing cars?”

  “Yes. I bring old cars back to life that are considered collectables. It’s more a hobby than anything else.”

  “Must take a while to bring them back to their original condition?” Clarisse asked.

  “Oh yeah—the biggest problem is the lack of spare parts. Once it took me three months to find a small part.”

  “What happens if you can’t find a part?” Clarisse was inquisitive.

  “That’s when it gets hard and I need to find a way to make it from scratch.”

  “Wow, I like your hobby, and the car I saw in the picture looks special—a blast from the past.”

  “I have been asked to use it for weddings—a movie producer wanted to hire it for a scene in his film.”

  “You’re kidding me?”

  “I could make money from it by renting it for special events, but I have never been comfortable with it. I have always wanted to preserve it—keep it pristine.”

  “I can understand, Harry. You have put a lot of your pride in that car.”

  “I don’t know too much about you, Clarisse—tell me about yourself. My best friend Matt is not always good with the detail.”

  Their conversation lasted for hours, and they talked about many things—their likes, dislikes, music, sport and their way of life. They tried to stay clear of discussing their past relationships as it always muddied the water. They shared many similarities and points of view that pushed along the discussion. Rarely did they have to stop and think about what to ask each other. The questions flowed effortlessly, one after the other, and sometimes they had to cut each other off to get their say.

  Clarisse asked him to connect again the next day on Skype—Harry agreed enthusiastically.

  As for Harry, he was over the moon and could not stop thinking about Clarisse after the call. He placed his laptop on his bedside table with Clarisse’s Skype profile picture in view. It made him feel comfortable viewing her image while lying down on his bed.

  Harry was due to meet Matt the next morning as scheduled—every Saturday at 10 a.m. It was the only time they had to catch up due to their busy lifestyles. Harry, being a man of routine, always chose the same venue and ordered his usual poached eggs on toast. They also sat at the same table facing the window with the river walk view. Matt had given up trying to get him to change cafes because Harry was into this routine.

  Upon arrival at the café, they took their usual seats. Matt made a bet with himself that Harry would sit in precisely the same chair facing the window as before.

  “So, Harry, did you chat with Clarisse?”

  “Yeah … it went perfectly. We spoke for hours and I reckon I could have gone easily for another hour.”

  “That’s promising. Well, she is beautiful, and you’re a lucky man.”

  “Do you mean I could not get anyone like her here?” Harry took offence to his comment.

  “That’s not what I mean. But it’s highly unlikely we could find someone like Clarisse locally. Are you about six years older than her?”

  “Yeah, something like that—but I don’t focus on it too much because I look after myself. I don’t look my age.”

  “Yes, all that exercising you do does pay dividends when it comes to the opposite sex. But what about her personality?”

  “She has an amazing temperament. She smiles a lot, which is also very pleasant—makes me feel like being around her.”

  “Come to think about it, Harry—your ex-wife never smiled and was very serious,” Matt said.

  “You noticed that?”

  “Yeah, I think we all did. Now that you’re divorced—I don’t think you will mind me saying she wasn’t pleasant to be around.”

  Harry took a sip of coffee and glanced at the menu. “Yes, mate, it was always about her career, travel and money. Always comparing herself to other people.”

  “Well, it was meant to be. Let’s leave those old memories behind. So, tell me more about Clarisse?”

  “Sure, I can talk all day about her.”

  “By the way, Harry—why are you looking at the menu? You always order the same—poached eggs on toast. If I’m not mistaken, they are on their way right now.”

  Matt had pre-ordered Harry’s breakfast without his knowledge. The rest of the morning was spent talking about Clarisse and how happy he was to have made her acquaintance. He also thanked Matt for being determined as usual to introduce Clarisse to him. Although the photo of Clarisse sitting on the scarlet chair was convincing enough.

  While driving home after breakfast, Harry reflected on his friendship with Matt. He had known him since grade school, and they went to the same secondary college and university together. Of all the friendships Harry built throughout his life, Matt was the only mainstay and trusted confidant.

  Harry often thought about the saying ‘opposites attract’: they were uniquely different in many ways. Matt was a sharp-eyed, good-looking lad with heaps of personality. Tall, handsome and a gym junkie with broad shoulders and a six-pack to boot. Never married or tied down to anyone—he carried a free spirit. He was always travelling to exotic locations no one had heard of, and his stories were amazing.

  Harry trusted Matt and his views
on girls—if the recommendation was positive, then rest assured, Matt had done his homework.

  4 The city of affection

  Three months later

  Harry had a pleasant flight from Melbourne to Manila, arriving in the afternoon and during the warmest part of the day. He left his hometown in the middle of spring to a sharp change in temperature awaiting him outside the airconditioned airport. It had been raining before his arrival—it was hot and humid. Just standing around without any exertion made you swelter and sweat profusely—a stickiness that made your clothes cling to your skin like plastic wrap.

  Clarisse was waiting at the arrivals area of the international airport with Marjorie—she had accompanied her to help find Harry and welcome him. She had never travelled outside the country before and having Marjorie’s support helped her confidence. She was conscious of meeting a foreign guy for the first time after chatting with him for the past three months on Skype. It was a long-distance relationship—an ‘LDR’ as Marjorie would put it. It dawned on her this was the real McCoy—the genuine thing, face to face. It was nerve-racking just thinking about it—her stomach churned at the sight of every foreign-looking man walking through the arrival’s door. One by one, the passengers passed by with their luggage trolley stacked full. She stood on her toes like a glancing ballerina—looking between the shoulders of others to get a glimpse of Harry.

  Finally, she recognised him in the distance. Harry was all smiles but bewildered as he looked around, searching for Clarisse. They had agreed he would wear a blue Adidas hoodie and denim straight-leg pants so that she could recognise him. Clarisse waved frantically and bounced up and down, creating an exercise of movement so he could identify her.

  “Over here, Harry … I’m over here,” she said. Clarisse was so loud that everyone turned around and glanced at her.

  Harry spotted her and his face lit up, smiling enthusiastically but also relieved that he had made it. He pointed to Clarisse and mimed to her like a pantomime. He was on his way towards her as he juggled suitcases, other passengers doing the same thing. As he reached the gate leading to the visitors’ area, Clarisse dashed towards him and gave him a big hug, causing the luggage to fall off the trolley in front of prying eyes.