We entered the townhouse and left our coats on the pile by the doorway. “Can I get you a drink?” Tom yelled in my ear. I smiled and nodded eagerly. “Wine?” he mouthed with a smirk and I rolled my eyes before shaking my head. He disappeared into the heaving bodies toward what I presumed was the kitchen. I thought about following him but standing amongst the mass of partygoers I knew I wouldn’t have been able to find him again. I stood awkwardly near the front door instead until he returned. He placed a bottle in one of my hands and took the other, leading me through the throng of people toward an area where a few people were dancing. I reluctantly danced while sipping my beer until the song was over. Taking my hand once more he pulled me to the back of the house.
“Ana, I want you to meet my friend, Robert. This is his party.” Tom shook the hand of a tall, blonde guy with icy blue eyes. “Rob, this is Ana, she’s new around here.” Robert took my hand and kissed the back of it. “Nice to meet you, Ana, how are you finding York?” I chatted animatedly with him for a few minutes and we discussed the sights I had already seen and the things I should also give a try. “You should meet my friend, he’s new here too, I’ll go and get him.” Rob disappeared into the garden and returned with a man following behind him. “Ana, this is Sam, he moved here a couple of months ago and rents one of my properties.”
My stomach did a somersault as Sam appeared from behind Robert’s back. He looked just as taken aback as I did and nervously took a sip of his drink. “Uh…Actually…Ana and I already know each other. She’s one of my students.” Robert laughed heartily and pointed out that I didn’t look like an undergraduate. I explained my change in career goals while avoiding Sam’s eyes. I felt a hand at my hip and looked up as Tom leaned in to ask if I wanted another drink. I smiled and nodded until I felt Sam’s cold stare as he looked from me to the fingers gripping my waist. “So, if you and Sam know each other surely you can explore York together?” Sam downed the rest of his drink and discarded the bottle on a nearby table. “I’m sure Ana has her own friends to go off exploring with.” He glared pointedly at Tom’s retreating back before excusing himself to use the bathroom.
Robert soon left me, slightly bewildered by his tenant’s lack of social skills, and I was left wandering the rooms in search of Tom. He had not returned with my drink and when I got to the kitchen he was nowhere to be found. I made my way to the corner of a crowded room and sipped the cider I had grabbed while scanning the crowd around me. I felt him before I saw him and sure enough soon after Sam emerged from the crowd and stood at my side not looking at me. “I didn’t know you would be here.” I shrugged and turned my back on him, “How would you?” I felt the heat of his chest as he approached me from behind and leaned into my ear. His breath tickled the hairs at my throat as he spoke, “You look beautiful, Ana.” I curled in on myself and span around to face him. “Please stop giving me mixed signals.”
We stood in silence for a few minutes and I scanned the room again for Tom. “How do you know Robert’s friend?” He asked gesturing toward the back room we had not long left. “He lives in the flat below me,” I explained and crossed my arms protectively across my chest hoping that was the end of his line of questioning. He seemed to contemplate something before speaking again. “Are you two together?” I scoffed at him and refused to answer, turning away from him to end the conversation. “You got over us so easily.” He had leaned in close to me once more and whispered in my ear. His comment not only hurt but enraged me, I pulled away from him and hissed in his face, “No, Sam, you dismissed us so easily. What? Are you pulling that whole, I don’t want you but no-one else can have you, spiel?” He shook his head but couldn’t meet my eye. “You’re an asshole,” I muttered, backing away. He didn’t respond.
I stormed away from him, pushing shoulders out of my way to make it through the crowd. I eventually found Tom on the other side of the room, drinks in hand, and peering over the many heads looking for me. “Tom, I’m not feeling well. Will you call a taxi for me so I can go home?” He dumped our drinks and took my elbow before leading me to the front door, “I’ll come with you, I don’t want you going home alone.” He grabbed my coat from the pile and wrapped it around my shoulders. We waited outside on the front step for the taxi to arrive. As Tom opened the back door of the car and I slid into the seat I noticed Sam standing in the doorway watching us go. I turned my head away as Tom closed the door and didn’t give him a second glance.
On the journey home I sat in silence, Tom noticed that I did not want to talk. “That was your ex, wasn’t it? The one you broke up with that day you had the panic attack?” I turned to look at him and gave him a questioning look. “I saw you talking to him when I was bringing you another drink. Things seemed a little heated.” I nodded hesitantly, “He didn’t know I was going to school here. I didn’t know he had applied to teach. He refuses to date his student so he broke it off.” Tom sighed and grimaced sympathetically. “No wonder you were so messed up about it.” I nodded and he took my hand, holding it on the seat between us, we remained silent for the rest of the journey.
Chapter 15
A keen autumn breeze swirled strands of hair around my face as I walked through campus. It was mid-October and the leaves had changed and begun to fall, they scuttled with the wind along the pavements like a blanket of gold. I wrapped my scarf a little higher over my face and pulled my tweed jacket closed. The campus was beautiful in autumn, I could have walked around admiring it all morning but I had a meeting to get to. I hadn’t spoken with Sam alone since the party at Robert’s house. He had maintained his professional distance in class and over the past two weeks, my anger toward him had cooled. He had continued to teach me well, never compromising my artistic education no matter what we were going through in our personal lives.
I watched him with the other students. He was an exceptional teacher, the kind that truly made a difference. I began realising what I’d be making him give up if I asked him to quit and be with me again. My classmates and I were thriving under his tuition and it was evident in all of our work. For over a week or more, Sam and I had almost seemed like friends again if it weren’t for the definite suppression of feelings, both his and mine. We could never go back to how we had been in Italy, but we could at least be amicable.
Despite this development, we were still yet to be alone in each other’s company. There was always at least one other student present and Sam focused his attention on them to avoid me. Except for a few comments on my work during studio sessions he had not spoken directly to me since the party, obviously keeping his distance and careful not to give me mixed signals as I had asked. All of that was about to change with the meeting I had booked that morning. All students had to have a progress meeting with their lecturer to discuss how they were doing and where they hoped to steer their education. Sam had talked to every student but me, clearly putting the meeting off until the last minute. He had also scheduled it right before our 9 AM class, presumably to limit our discussion to university matters only.
When I reached the studio the door was closed. I took a deep breath and knocked, listening into the silence that followed for an instruction to enter. “You can go on in.” The voice behind me made me squeal and jump, I turned to find Sam standing silently behind me. With a slight smirk, he opened the door holding it open and waving me inside, I entered without meeting his eye. “Take a seat.” He gestured to the chair next to his and I took it, noting that I had not been in such close proximity to him since he had pinned me against the classroom door. The memory of his hips against mine made me blush, I dropped my head so that my hair would cover my cheeks. “Ana, I know you don’t particularly want to talk to me but I have to have this conversation with everyone on the course”.
I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable with his choice of words. “I never said I didn’t want to talk to you.” He was silent for a moment then cleared his throat before shifting his laptop closer to me so that I could see the screen. “Let’s get through the main points
then shall we?” For the next fifteen minutes, we discussed my work so far and what medium I would like to focus on in the future. He regularly referred to notes provided to him by another lecturer, I gave them a questioning look and he pulled them away awkwardly. “Why has Mr Whitely been reviewing our work?” He shuffled his papers and tucked them away in his bag avoiding looking in my direction. “Um, I told him that I was finding it hard to be impartial with some of the students work so asked him to put forward some of his own opinions for me to discuss.”
I sat a little taller in my seat, wondering if there were other students with whom he struggled to be impartial. “Can I ask what his notes say?” Sam reached down and pulled the sheet back out of his bag. “He thinks you’re very proficient. He would like to see you work more with other mediums as you predominantly work in acrylic. He also thinks…” he hesitated in his reading until I prompted him to continue. “Uh, he says he notes a consistent sadness in your work.” I bit my lip and stared down at my fidgeting hands. He wasn’t wrong. No matter how I painted recently the overriding emotion in my work was melancholy. “I hate that I’ve caused that.” His whisper made me look up and smile sadly at him.
“I just miss you. Yes, I miss our physical relationship and what we had but mostly I just miss my friend.” It was the most I could say without crying. He leant toward me, his voice low, “Me too.” For the first time in a long time, we smiled at each other. I knew the situation wouldn’t change, that we couldn’t be friends when we still wanted each other so badly, but it was nice to share words that were not spoken in anger. “You’re an amazing teacher Sam, you were right not to give that up. Not for me.” He quickly sat forward in his chair, suddenly close to me and about to rebuke my comment when there was a knock at the door. Charlie poked his head into the room as Sam backed off hastily and packed the things on his desk away in his bag.
“Are we good to come in?” He looked from Sam’s retreating back to where I sat curled in on myself. He gave me a questioning look so I stood, forced a smile and nodded for him to come in and join me at the work desk. “Everything alright?” He whispered when we got to the back of the room. “Yeh, fine! We were just discussing my progress. I’m doing good.” We took out our notebooks and leant on the tables as other students began to arrive. “So why did you guys look so serious when I walked in?” I told him about Mr Whitely’s opinion of my work and he laughed loudly. Sam gave him a disapproving look and turned to address the class, “Ok everybody, gather around the centre table, we’ll be looking at print work today.”
Across the central table, there were various sheets showing examples of block and screen printing. Templates and lino stamps were placed next to the end result. Sam discussed the origins of printing and its various uses in modern times. We gathered in small groups and practised the technique ourselves as Sam came around and gave us tips to help create a clear print. After mine and Sam’s heart to heart, I was finally enjoying being in class for the first time since school had begun. Sam was more relaxed and happily discussed my lino carving before we both laughed at Charlie’s attempt. I was about to reach for the printing acrylics when a knock at the door made me glance up. Sam greeted the man in the corridor and after a few seconds he turned toward me, a concerned and uncomfortable look on his face. With a grimace, he gestured for me to come over. As I approached the doorway he stepped to one side and revealed our visitor. I stopped still in my tracks as I came face to face with my father.
* * *
I ducked out of the classroom and followed my father out into the corridor. He turned toward me and gave me a very serious look. “What’s wrong? Is it mom? Is Nonna ok?” I couldn’t think of any other reason for him to come all the way to York to see me in person after so long apart. He screwed his face up and shook his head, “No, everyone is fine as far as I know.” I thought perhaps he was here to make amends, the hope made me smile shyly up at him, “It’s nice to see you, Papa”. He adjusted his tie and the cuffs of his shirt awkwardly, “Yes well I’m not here to make small talk. I’m here to bring you home.” I rolled my eyes, exasperated and whispered incredulously under my breath.
He ignored me and continued, “I know someone on the medical school board. They are willing to take you on for the January semester. You need to stop all this silliness and think of your future. You can still paint in your spare time”. I shook my head and stepped away from him toward the studio, “Papa, I don’t want to be a surgeon. I never did. I’m doing what I’ve always wanted now.” He closed the gap between us, his eyes pleading. “Just come home. We can talk about it. It’s never too late to change your mind.” I glanced through the open doorway and noticed Sam watching me intently, concern creased his brow. I looked away and stared at the floor. “How many times do I have to say it, Papa? I’m not coming home. I’m happy here.” My father snatched at my wrist angrily, “This is not a career, Anabella!” He spat the words toward the classroom. I fought against him, trying to free myself from his grasp.
“Is there a problem here?” Sam’s voice was glacial. My father dropped my wrist and stepped away from me. Gathering his composure he spoke in his best lawyer voice. “There are matters here that do not concern you Mr…?” Sam’s arms crossed his chest tightly and he stood a little taller. Looking sternly at my father he responded coolly, “Samuel Beneventi, Ana’s tutor. What do you need with her, Ana should be in my class right now?” With an air of a man who really couldn’t care less about disrupting Sam’s class he pointed a finger at me and sneered, “My daughter does not belong on this course. She made a mistake in coming here and I’m here to rectify the situation.”
Sam remained eerily calm, closed the classroom door behind him and spoke quietly but firmly into my father’s face. “The only mistake Ana ever made is letting you control her for so long. You broke her, and you’re wrong about her. She’s an amazing artist, and she’s finally where she belongs.” My father scoffed in Sam’s face, “You seem to know an awful lot for an art teacher.” Sam grimaced and stepped menacingly toward him. “Enough!” I shoved between them, tired of the fighting and the drama of it all. “Sam, please go back inside. I need to talk to my father. Alone.” Sam looked conflicted, I could tell he still wanted to protect me, no matter what our history was he could not hide how he really felt. He stepped back a few steps toward the doorway not taking his eyes off mine. “If he puts another hand on you I’m coming back out here.” I nodded and looked away, I couldn’t take the intensity of his stare at that moment.
He disappeared off into the classroom leaving the door open to keep watch over me. A few students including Charlie stared at me with curiosity until Sam clapped his hands and demanded their attention. I felt the waves of disappointment roll off my father beside me. I turned my back on the room and played with a frayed piece of cotton on my sleeve, unable to raise my eyes from the ground to meet his piercing gaze. “Papa, I…” He pointed angrily toward the classroom, “So this is how you’re getting by, is it? By carrying on with your university lecturer?” My eyes snapped up to meet his and I glared at him with all the anger I had stored up over the summer. “It’s not like that.”
“Oh don’t try lying to me, Anabella, you were never very good at it. That boy comes running out here like a white knight ready to defend you. You are obviously sleeping with him! What happened to my daughter? Look at what you’ve become!” I pushed him angrily in the chest and a shocked expression crossed his face before the stony mask fell back into place. “How dare you!” I screamed and hit him again. He took a step back, taking my forearms in his tight grasp and holding me at arm’s length. “How dare you come here and think you can speak to me like this!” I lunged at him again, I wanted to hit him I wanted to hurt him like he had hurt me for so many years.
Suddenly, strong forearms tightened around my waist and pulled me out of my father’s grasp, I struggled against them, hitting out at Sam’s firm chest until he let me go. I pushed him away from me and pointed an angry finger into my father�
��s chest. “You want to know what happened to me, Papa? You happened to me! All these years I let you take tiny pieces of me. I didn’t even notice it at first, I let you chisel away parts of me so that you could mould me into the daughter you wanted me to be. I thought, he’s my dad, he must know what’s best right? And for the longest time I was that perfect daughter. I gave you everything you wanted, and because I was so used to doing that I thought I had to give everyone what they wanted. And I did. I’m ashamed of a lot of things that I now know were not my fault. That wasn’t me, that wasn’t your daughter. That was a loyal pet you had. And now that I’m finally myself, despite all the pain you’ve put me through to get there, I know I’ll never give you a part of myself ever again.”
Once again I saw the mask slip. I had met my mark and wounded him. He looked hurt. Good, I wanted to hurt him. I wanted him to know that he no longer had power over me. He didn’t say anything, just straightened his jacket, turned on his heel and left. I knew I had lost him forever. The blood pounded in my ears and I felt my breathing labour as I tried to hold off the heartache. Sam’s quiet voice spoke behind me, “Ana, are you ok?” I ignored him and tried to catch my breath. I heard him approach and I spun around to face him before his outstretched hand met my shoulder. “Don’t.” The warning in my voice made him pause and drop his arm, I saw the war of emotions in his eyes, he wanted to comfort me. “Just…don’t.” I held my hand up to stop him.
My Heart Lies in Pisciotta Page 13