Gravitate

by Jo Duchemin

  I sat through all the other auditions, but I didn’t really notice what the other performers were like. I joined in the applause at the appropriate times, but it was just a case of going through the motions. My head was still filled with thoughts of Marty. Some of the things he said were so strange. Although I trusted him implicitly, I was unnerved when he told me about trying to get close to me to earn his trust; that he could only remain with me if it appeared that we were just friends. Something didn’t add up. He’d tried to distance himself when he felt himself falling for me – why wasn’t it OK for him to love me? Then there was the mysterious ‘they’ that couldn’t know I loved him – he seemed bound to keeping this secret and spoke about ‘they’ with a respectful reverence – almost as if he feared them, whoever ‘they’ were.

  I was jostled out of my puzzled thoughts by the person next to me moving and I realised the lecture was over. I hadn’t been listening to Donna, but it didn’t look as if anyone noticed. My classmates left quickly, giggling, chatting, checking mobile phones, eager to get to the canteen and have a break. I gathered up my bag and slung it over my shoulder, planning to avoid lunch and head straight to the library. My plan was foiled.

  “Claudia?” Donna’s soprano voice cut through the air. I wasn’t in the mood for more of her well meant encouragement – to me it was bullying.

  “Yes, Donna?” I forced myself to remain pleasant.

  “You haven’t been at any auditions since you left school, have you?” To give Donna credit, she was at least trying to be tactful, but I knew she’d chosen the words ‘left school’ instead of ‘lost your parents’.

  “No, no I haven’t. I haven’t sung at all since then.” I avoided saying it too; I didn’t want to embarrass her. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, hinting that I wanted to get out of the room and transferred my bag to the other shoulder.

  “I thought so.” She turned away and headed back to her belongings. I guessed our conversation was over and I was shocked that she hadn’t tried to tell me that drama could be therapeutic for people in my situation, or warned me to pay more attention, or sympathetically told me that time would make things better. It had appeared that this time I had got off lightly. I started heading towards the door. Donna remained turned away from me.

  “You were better today than in the last show you did.”

  “Sorry?” I was taken aback and stopped walking mid-step.

  “You performed better today, compared to your last show. You were trying too hard before.” She still hadn’t faced me. “You’re better when you don’t give a shit.”

  I was speechless. Her language shocked me almost as much as what she was saying. “You saw my last show?”

  “Yes and I didn’t care much for it.”

  “Oh,” I didn’t know how to respond. “Thanks for the feedback, I guess?”

  “You’re welcome. You can go now.”

  I hurried out of the drama studio, distracted by the conversation, glancing back over my shoulder and ran straight into a man’s chest. Embarrassed, I looked up to see it was James, Marty’s friend, who I had met in the pub.

  “Oh, James, I’m sorry, I really should look where I’m going.”

  “No harm done, you’re Claudia, right?” He smiled when I nodded, “My memory from the other night is a bit murky. I didn’t puke on you or anything, did I?”

  “No, it’s fine, Belinda took you guys out before any vomiting happened. You missed the drama though – there was a fight and one of the guys had a knife, didn’t Marty tell you?” I noticed that even just mentioning Marty’s name caused a fluttering sensation in my chest.

  “No, in fact, I haven’t seen or heard from Marty since that night. Though I don’t know him that well, really.” James shrugged his shoulders, but his comment made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

  “You don’t? I thought you were good friends.” I tried to keep panic out of my voice.

  “Oh, he seems really nice, but I’ve only known him…about a month I think. He stopped to help when my car got a flat tyre, we started chatting and found out we went to the same university. As a thanks for his help, I bought him a drink, and he met Belinda and Russ then,” James smiled.

  “That was nice of him to help you out.” I wanted to ask more, but didn’t know how to go about it without looking suspicious. I cleared my throat and decided now was not a good time to test my acting skills; my brain was working overtime, absorbing the fact that nobody seemed to know anything about Marty prior to a month ago. “He always seems to be in the right place at the right time. Speaking of which, I was heading to the library, but it was nice to see you again.”

  “Yeah, take care and perhaps we can all go out again sometime, I know Belinda loved having a girl in the group for a change.” We exchanged waves and headed off in different directions.

  I spent my time in the library, quietly surrounded by books, looking quite the perfect student. The outward appearance was a complete fabrication, for the only thing my brain was focussed on was Marty. I barely knew anything about him. Neither did his friends and as I thought about his interview with Aunt Sandra and myself, I realised we had taken everything he said for granted. We hadn’t verified his story about the flatmates falling in love and having a baby, we’d just checked his references and taken his deposit. I tried to recall the names of the referees he’d given but, for some reason, my mind kept coming up blank. I knew Aunt Sandra had been thoroughly convinced that he would be a perfect lodger; she would not have allowed him to move in otherwise – only applicant or not. Now I wondered why we’d both trusted him so easily. He’d lied about being a medical student – was it possible he was lying about other things, too?

  I read and re-read the same paragraph five times before giving up and putting the books back and deciding to get a coffee from the canteen. On my way back down the library’s main staircase, I passed the second floor, where the barely-used computer room was positioned. A few years ago, this had been one of the most popular parts of the university, with students queuing to spend an hour on the computers, but since technology had moved on, and mobile phones could often accomplish the same jobs as computers, this room had become almost defunct. Now the computer room was only busy when essays and dissertations were due in and students needed to use the printers. On this occasion, there were only two other students working in this room and around twenty computers waiting to be used.

  I hit on an idea, not believing I hadn’t tried it before. I would Google ‘Marty Glean’. My heart pounded as I sat down at one of the computers, away from the other students. Part of me felt excited that I might find out what his secret was and the other part felt nervous in case I found something that I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to believe there was anything bad about Marty, but things weren’t adding up for me. I tapped my fingers agitatedly on the desk, as I waited for the computer to reach the search engine and the other students looked up momentarily from their computers. I stopped tapping and started typing Marty’s name into the computer. The somewhat archaic computer whirred into life and I involuntarily held my breath as I waited for the information to flash up on the screen. What I saw shocked me. There was nothing of interest. Nothing. I’d at least expected to have to wade through Facebook pages of ‘Marty Glean’ that weren’t my Marty. But there was nothing. Just a random list of pages featuring either the word Marty or the word Glean.

  I felt disappointed as I started to log off. I’d wanted something, anything, that would cast some light on this man that I’d fallen in love with. I was just about to close the computer down when I thought of another possible lead for information on Marty. He’d told me, just that morning, that he was working at a cancer hospice. I quickly found the website for the hospice, and looked at the staff page. I was relieved to see that there was a Dr Glean working there but, unlike the rest of the care team, his profile was awaiting a photo and extra in
formation. They must have known something about Marty to hire him. I quickly wrote down the address and phone number for the hospice in my notebook, not sure of what I planned to do with the information. I checked my phone to see what the time was and realised I would be late for my lecture if I didn’t leave now.

  The lecture passed in a blur, as I spent the whole time trying to work out what to do next. A stronger woman would just ask him outright why nobody seemed to know he existed until four weeks ago, but I didn’t want to break out of the spell he had me under yet. I needed to believe that he had his reasons for not telling me the whole truth. I needed to believe that he was a good man. I needed him. I thought about going to the hospice and trying to spy on him, but I was thwarted by the fact I didn’t drive and places like that would have quite strict policies on who would be allowed to gain entry. I decided my best course of action would be to ring up the hospice and see what they would tell me over the phone. I had two possible plans. One would be to ring up as myself and to ask to speak to Marty – after all, I did live with him. I could say my mobile phone was out of power and I needed to talk to him, however, they would probably put him on the phone and I’d have no opportunity to ask questions about him. The other option was to pretend to be someone else and try to ask the right questions, although I wondered how much they would tell someone over the phone without any proof of who they were.

  I was still debating the best course of action with myself as I left the lecture hall, after taking in zero content of the two hour talk. I was toying with the locket around my neck. After a day of thinking constantly about the possibility of Marty not being what I needed him to be, it brought me comfort to have something from him near to me. As I got to the door, I saw that it was starting to rain and I hadn’t brought a jacket out with me. And at that moment, I saw Marty standing outside, under an umbrella, waiting for me. My day of doubting evaporated and all I saw was him. Whatever it was that he couldn’t tell me, it could wait. This was our time now.

  I desperately wanted to run to him and throw myself into his arms, but I caught myself before I moved. We had to appear as just friends in public. I feared my smile, and the blush spreading through my cheeks, might give me away. I saw my happiness reflected in his eyes. We shared a smile that held all our secrets. I tried to saunter casually over to him, a flimsy disguise for my feelings.

  “Hello, stranger,” I said, realising my greeting rang very true – he really was a stranger to me. “What are you doing here?”

  “I knew you wouldn’t have brought a jacket with you and there was rain on the way. I thought I’d come and save you from getting soaked.”

  “You know me better than I know myself. How was your day?”

  “It was tough – a few patients passed over today.” He looked drained.

  “Oh, I’m sorry…” I didn’t know what to say.

  “It was time for them, they’d been in pain and they were ready. It’s always sad, but I was glad to be with them at the end. There was nothing else that could be done for them here.”

  We walked along in silence for a few moments. It felt strange to be standing so close to him without touching him. I longed to hold his hand, to close the gap between us. I didn’t know how I would keep up this pretence. Not knowing why I had to pretend made it more difficult.

  “I bumped into your friend, James, today.” I glanced over at Marty’s face. It was a picture that showed no emotion.

  “Oh, yes, how is he?”

  “He’s fine. He mentioned that he had only known you for four weeks. And that got me thinking…nobody seems to have known about you before a month ago.” I phrased it as a statement, even though there was a question underlying my words.

  “Yes, that is true – nobody you know would have known me before that.”

  “Can I meet some of your older friends?” The rain splashed harder, and I drew closer to him under the umbrella. He instantly pulled further away.

  “I don’t think you can, Claudia. My acquaintances run in different circles to you.” His face, still beautiful, held a hint of tension.

  “Are you ashamed of me?” Up until now, I’d not considered this as a possibility for the rules he obeyed. His eyes flashed to mine, showing alarm.

  “Of course not, don’t ever think that.” He looked genuinely concerned and it made me feel guilty for even thinking that he was ashamed of me.

  A cold breeze brushed past us and I was grateful we were nearly home, cursing myself for not bringing a coat with me. Marty noticed me shiver and immediately started taking off his jacket, carefully managing to keep me covered with the umbrella as he did so. I was always in awe of how he did things like that, which would have been like a game of Twister if I’d attempted it. He handed me the jacket, his fingers brushing against mine for just a fraction of a second longer than necessary. I couldn’t seem to move. He took the jacket back from me and draped it around my shoulders, gracefully. I felt the slightest squeeze of a hug as he touched me and goose bumps, that had nothing to do with the chill in the air, appeared on my skin. I couldn’t wait to be behind closed doors. If he was only mine when nobody else could see, that would have to be enough. Nobody else could ever compare now.

  “Let’s get home, Marty.” My voice sounded huskier than usual, charged with the energy I seemed to absorb from him. We started walking again, with more urgency now, as rain pattered heavily on the umbrella and occasional flashes of lightning illuminated the deserted street. I searched in my handbag for my front door key, eager to get home as soon as possible. I thought my heart was louder than the thunder roaring in the distance.

  We arrived at the door, slightly out of breath. I thrust the key into the lock and forced the door open, tripping over the doorstep in my haste to get into the house. Marty caught me round the waist to stop me falling over and simultaneously slammed the door shut behind him. I shivered at the thrill of his hands touching me. Despite my body being tiny, compared to his, I was able to push my body against his and force him towards the wall, pressing my chest to his, feeling the heat radiating from him. We kissed passionately, in the dark hallway. The pent up frustration from the day seemed to be spilling out of me. I shook Marty’s jacket from my shoulders and left it lying on the floor. My hands were almost uncontrollable as they explored his chest, relishing the sensation of feeling his muscular torso covered with only a flimsy piece of fabric. His fingers ran through my hair, his lips locked on mine. My body tingled and trembled. I started to pull up his jumper, desperate to reveal more of him. At that moment, I didn’t need to know anything about him. I just needed him.

  Strong hands clamped around my wrists and stopped them in their tracks. His mouth pulled away from mine and I felt my body being gently, yet insistently, forced away from his. I felt lost for words – I thought he’d wanted this as much as I did.

  “Claudia, stop. We can’t do this.” I could hear the longing in his throaty voice, his breathing was quickened and short, yet his hands held me in place, at a distance away from him.

  “Why can’t we? Don’t you want to?” I was glad the hallway was growing darker by the minute, as I felt embarrassed asking him these questions and now I was blushing fiercely.

  “Of course I do. I’ve never wanted anything more.” There was a blaze of lightning and for a moment his face was visible, with an array of mixed emotions laid bare for me to see. Desire, fear, passion, anger, frustration, attraction. “But we can’t do this. We just can’t.”

  “What’s wrong?” I knew he wouldn’t tell me, but I had to ask anyway.

  “Me. I’m what’s wrong.” And without another word, he walked straight out of the front door and into the stormy night. The slam of the door echoed in the empty hallway. His coat and the umbrella lay abandoned on the floor. I pressed my head against the wall, where his back had just been, trying to make sense of what had happened. I could still smell his heady scent in the air. I started to
feel dizzy and sick, as though I was going to faint and I slid down to the floor to stop myself passing out. I lay on the hardwood floor, curled up, hugging my knees to my chest and cried. Great, uncontrollable sobs reverberated around me.

  Chapter 6

  I don’t know how long I was asleep for. It was completely dark when the sound of the door creaking roused me. I heard footsteps walk closer to me, steady breathing as someone bent down to look at me and then a deep sigh, filled with regret, as strong arms wrapped around me and lifted me up. I moulded myself to his chest, drinking in his scent, his warmth, the touch of his skin as my forehead rested on his neck. He brought the fresh smell of rain in with him and although his skin and clothes were damp, it felt wonderful to be next to him. I thought perhaps I was dreaming as he pulled me closer to him, his lips brushing my hair. A dull ache in my shoulder and hip, where they’d laid against the floor, told me this was not a dream. Marty carried me into the dark living room and held me against his body, on his lap, gently rocking me. I didn’t dare try to kiss him now. I felt a jumble of emotions – delighted he had returned, terrified he would leave again, confusion and embarrassment about what happened earlier. When he started to move me off of his lap, panic set in and I clung on to him tightly.

  “Don’t go, please,” I whispered.