Gravitate

by Jo Duchemin

  “I’m not leaving, I was just going to turn on the light.” I loosened my grip on him and slid myself onto the sofa next to him, as he reached over for the light switch. The sudden brilliance of the lamp hurt my eyes and I buried my head in his chest. Marty wrapped his arms around me. “I’m so sorry, Claudia, I shouldn’t have left like that. I just had to get away or I would have done something we’d both regret.”

  “You’d regret being with me?” I was glad my face was hidden, as I felt self-conscious talking about this. My experience of such things was severely limited.

  “I would.” His words cut like a knife. He saw me flinch and pulled me closer to him. “I can’t explain it right – it sounds like I don’t want you, but this is the complete opposite. I barely have any resistance left and I don’t know what would happen if we made love.” I risked a glimpse up at his face and saw the set of his chin showing his uneasiness.

  “Marty, have you ever made love? Are you nervous? Or is it more than that?”

  “It is more than that. And no, I haven’t.” He didn’t look at all embarrassed, in a complete contrast to me.

  “How is that possible? I mean, have you seen yourself?” The words slipped out before I could stop them, but Marty gave me an amused grin, then looked away. “You’re older than me, at least twenty-five, right? Most people have at least experimented by that age…” I could feel myself digging a hole that I didn’t want to be in.

  “I honestly never had this desire before I met you.” He glanced down at me and smiled. “I adore you. So much. Too much. I can’t risk this. If they even knew what I thought about…” His smile widened, then faded. “Well, I wouldn’t be here right now, that’s for sure.”

  “Can’t you tell me who they are? Why wouldn’t they want us to be together? We’re two adults, what’s wrong about that?” I hated seeing the dilemma in his eyes.

  “I can’t tell you. If you knew the truth, I doubt you’d want to be with me, anyway.” He turned his head away from me, looking ashamed of himself. I reached up to his face and forced him to look at me.

  “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I can’t imagine anything you could say that would change the way I feel about you.”

  “Then I guess it’s lucky for me that I can’t tell you.” He leaned in towards me and kissed me. “Do me one favour though, Claudia.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Please don’t make me have to walk away from you again. We can’t take that risk - I’m not sure I’d be able to leave next time. It’s a cliché, but I’m drawn to you like a moth to a flame. It took every ounce of self-control for me to leave this afternoon and I hated myself for doing it. Don’t put me in that position again.”

  “So, I can kiss you like this,” I gently pecked his cheek and he nodded, “but is this OK?” I kissed him on the lips, quickly. He nodded again. “How about this?” I kissed him deeper this time, my hands running up his torso, feeling the strong muscles tighten under my touch.

  “That’s about the limit, I think.” His words came out in a controlled tone, as though he was thinking carefully about each one.

  “So, I guess I should keep my hands to myself, really.” I couldn’t help but feel a little bit disappointed.

  “Unfortunately so. I wish I could give you everything you want, everything you deserve. I’m being incredibly selfish, getting in the way of what should have happened. I’m in too deep, being without you is no longer enough – yet, I was perfectly content before I met you. I can’t go back to that now.”

  “You don’t have to. Stay with me.”

  “You’ll change your mind in the future – you’ll want more than I can give.”

  “I do want more than you can give, but I won’t settle for anything less than you, so, I guess, I’m caught between a rock and a hard place. It’s so odd – when I’m with you, nothing else matters, but when we’re apart I start constantly trying to work out what your secret is.” It felt like a time for honesty.

  “I wish you could work it out. I hate not telling you everything. And maybe, when you know, you will see that, despite the way we feel about each other, I’m not where your future lies.” He looked sad and I desperately wanted to take the sadness away from him.

  “Are you working tomorrow? At the hospice?”

  “Yes. One of my patients, Mr Hollins, is getting near the end, I’d like to make sure he’s not alone when it happens. Why do you ask?”

  “No real reason,” I told a white lie. “Just wondered if you were going to be at home.”

  “Home. I never really felt anywhere was home before.” He kissed my forehead gently.

  “You make me feel safe.”

  “That’s all I ever wanted. For you to be safe and happy.”

  “Then I guess you got your wish. When I’m with you, I couldn’t be happier.”

  “You seemed to have the weight of the world on your shoulders earlier, when I met you after your lecture. Anything I can help with?”

  “Aside from spending a lot of the day trying to figure you out,” I rolled my eyes at him, “and getting absolutely nowhere, I had a horrible time this morning. We had to sing and dance in drama and then my lecturer said some really odd comments about my last performance. It wasn’t my best day ever, but I’ve had worse. I know a way that you can make it feel better…” I leaned myself towards him and waited for a kiss. I didn’t have to wait long. “Stay with me tonight. Like last night.”

  “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” Marty scooped me into his arms and carried me up the stairs to my bedroom. We’d set our boundaries and tonight they wouldn’t be broken.

  Chapter 7

  I was alone when I woke up the next morning. Panicked, I looked around the room and saw a note left on my pillow. I snatched it up, my heart thundering in my chest and a nauseated feeling in my stomach. What if he’d left me forever?

  Dear Claudia,

  I am so sorry I won’t be there when you awake. I have had to go to the hospice earlier than expected as Mr Hollins has taken a turn for the worse. I will make it up to you when I see you. I didn’t want to wake you up unnecessarily, as you looked so peaceful and content. I haven’t seen you look so serene in all the time I’ve known you. I can’t wait to see you this evening.

  Love,

  Marty X

  The relief flooded through me. He hadn’t left for good, just to work. He was so dedicated. I looked at the time on my mobile phone and then realised I hadn’t been woken up by Marty’s phone ringing with a call from the hospice. I must have been in a very deep sleep. I shrugged the duvet off of me and headed for the shower. I had lots I wanted to do today and most of it was to do with Marty. Now, more than ever, after the events of last night, I was determined to uncover the secret that came between us. I was convincing myself that, if I knew the secret, I would also discover a way to overcome any obstacles it represented.

  After getting showered and dressed, I ate a quick bowl of cereal and then got down to business. My first objective was to call the hospice, pretending to be a relative of a patient, asking for more information about Dr Glean. I had further plans if that didn’t work, but I hoped I wouldn’t have to use them.

  My heart fluttered as I picked up the phone. I’d remembered to withhold my number before dialling and I had a pen and paper on standby, just in case I did get told anything useful. I quickly dialled in the number for the main switchboard at the hospice before I could change my mind. My call was answered on the third ring.

  “Good morning, Pheasant Grove Hospice, how may I help you?” The receptionist sounded cheerful, considering where she worked.

  “Hello, I, um, I wondered if you could give me some information?” I kicked myself for stumbling over the words I’d rehearsed, several times, in my head.

  “That depends on who you are and why you are calling.”

 
“I’m a relative of Mr Hollins. I think he said he was being treated by a new doctor – Dr Glean? I just wondered if you could tell me more about Dr Glean?”

  “Dr Glean has only been on our staff for a short time, but he is proving incredibly popular with the patients.”

  “That’s good, I understand he’s very young, which hospital did he come from?”

  “He was at…let me just check…do you know, I can’t remember. Oh, but I do remember the name of a lady that was used as a reference – Mrs. Molly Brown – I remember thinking about the lady from the Titanic having the same name. Except this lady lived in Sandy and she’s still alive.”

  “And she gave him a good reference?”

  “Oh, it was wonderful – she wrote a beautiful letter of recommendation and the manager went to see Mrs. Brown. She couldn’t be more flattering about Dr Glean. You really don’t need to worry, Mr Hollins seems to have been much happier since Dr Glean took over his care.”

  “You wouldn’t happen to have a phone number for Mrs. Brown, would you?”

  “I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?”

  “I, um, I, I have to go.” I hung up the phone. I was panicking, even though I knew they couldn’t trace the call. I sat still for a few moments and then grabbed the telephone book out of the drawer where my parents had always kept it. My hands were shaking as I thumbed the pages to the ‘B’ section. As I suspected, there were pages of Brown listed, but only a handful with the initial M and only one of those was based in Sandy. I scribbled the address down, grabbed my handbag and locked the front door. I checked I had change for a bus and set off. Now was not the time to give up. I could afford to waste the day on a wild goose chase, but I couldn’t afford to waste this opportunity.

  The bus ride gave me a chance to work out what I was going to say to Mrs. Brown. I’d decided I would try to say as little as possible; from what the receptionist had said, Mrs. Brown was happy to talk about Dr Glean. I would simply knock on the door, tell her I was sorry to disturb her and I wondered if she could tell me a bit about Dr Glean. Hopefully, I wouldn’t need to elaborate on that.

  There were dark clouds gathering overhead and the wind was starting to whip up the fallen leaves swirling around my feet, as I walked away from the bus stop. I mentally kicked myself for forgetting to bring my coat, again. I hugged my arms around my body, trying to keep the warmth and the bravery within myself that I had felt earlier. Mrs. Brown’s house was only a two minute walk from the bus stop, but once I’d reached my destination, I wished for more time to pull my feelings together. It was now or never.

  I knocked on the door. I waited, not realising I was holding my breath. I heard a chain being put across the door and hoped I wouldn’t scare her. The door opened a crack. I could see one bespectacled eye and some grey hair.

  “Hello, Mrs. Brown?” I tried to sound friendly and harmless.

  “Yes, dear, but I’m not buying. Can’t afford much on our pensions.” She sounded apologetic and polite, despite not opening the door further.

  “I’m not selling anything, I just wanted to talk to you. About Dr Glean.”

  “Oh,” I heard the chain getting pulled back. “I didn’t know he’d decided to change jobs already, come on in, dear.”

  “Thank you.” I followed her into a neat sitting room, filled with ornaments on lace doilies and photographs of her family members. “I’m sorry to come visiting unannounced.”

  “Oh, that’s fine, dear, I’m always happy to talk about dear Dr Glean. Such a wonderful man. I could talk about him all day. You look a little young to work at a hospital, dear.”

  “I guess I am,” I avoided telling her anything. “What can you tell me about Dr Glean?”

  “Well, dear, he looked after my poor, dear, departed husband when he was passing away from cancer. Terrible disease. Dr Glean was so caring and kind. We couldn’t have asked for a better doctor. He sat and talked with me for hours and hours, he looked after me as well as my poor husband. He even stayed in touch after Robert passed away. Such a good, kind man.”

  I wasn’t sure if she meant Marty or her husband. At that moment, the front door opened and an elderly man walked in. He looked slightly startled to see me there, but smiled kindly.

  “Hello, Molly.” The old man smiled at Mrs. Brown and then glanced at me.

  “Derek, this young lady came to talk about Dr Glean.”

  “Hello, it’s nice to meet you.” I held my hand out to shake his, hoping my politeness would hide the fact I hadn’t given either of them my name. The old man took a newspaper out that was nestled under his arm and shook my hand.

  “Derek Brown, Molly’s husband. Did she tell you how wonderful Dr Glean is?”

  “She did, do you know him too?” I wanted as much information as possible.

  “Indeed, he also nursed my wife through her cancer. She didn’t suffer half as much as I’d expected once he took over her care. In fact, it was Dr Glean who introduced us to each other.” He smiled fondly at his wife.

  “How long have you been married?” I thought their story was so sweet, a second chance at love after such tragedy.

  “Oh, it’s been 22 years now,” Molly smiled adoringly at her husband. “Can’t imagine life without him.”

  My heart caught in my throat. Marty could not be Dr Glean. He wouldn’t have been a doctor that many years ago. Before I started to panic, I needed to check.

  “Perhaps I have the wrong address– I’m asking about Dr Marty Glean.”

  “That’s right, dear, Dr Marty. He preferred to be called that. I have a photo of him here somewhere, just after we got engaged. Let me find it.” Molly scurried over to the sideboard and searched in a drawer.

  My head was spinning. Marty was an imposter. He was working under someone else’s identity. How could he lie this way? What did I do with this information? Would I have to go to the police? Even now, I wasn’t sure that my conscience would win out over my attraction to him. I couldn’t believe I’d been so wrong about him. I’d been so sure of him. The sunshine that had been breaking through the dark clouds of my life was suddenly ripped away and only darkness remained.

  “Are you alright, dear?” Derek’s voice sounded far away and muffled.

  I snapped out of my downward spiral. I didn’t want to upset this kind couple.

  “Yes, yes, I’m fine. I have to go.” I grabbed my bag and started to head for the door, knowing I was being incredibly rude, but knowing it would be worse to stay.

  “Wait, dear, I have the photo.” Molly sounded so pleased to have finally found it, I couldn’t just leave without seeing it. I turned back, trying to keep the panic from rising in my chest, trying to keep calm. I joined Molly at the sideboard, where she pointed out the people in the picture. “That is me, wish I still coloured my hair looking at that!” She seemed to be enjoying her trip down memory lane. “That’s Derek, handsome chap wasn’t he?” She paused and I nodded, unable to speak. “And that’s Dr Marty Glean. Such a wonderful man.” She handed the photograph to me, but it fluttered out of my hand.

  “Are you alright, dear?” Molly had concern in her voice.

  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Derek’s voice floated across the room.

  I swallowed hard and tried to focus on not worrying the elderly pair.

  “No, not a ghost,” I whispered. I tried to pull myself together. “I’m sorry, I really have to go. I’m so sorry to have troubled you.” I ran from the room, out of the front door and down the street, as fast as my feet could carry me. I didn’t want them to see me crying. I didn’t want them to follow me, as I didn’t want them to know what I now knew about Marty.

  He wasn’t an imposter. Their Dr Marty was the same as my Marty. And he hadn’t aged in over twenty years.

  Chapter 8

  I ran until I thought I would vomit. It had started to rain, but I didn’t
care about my hair getting plastered to my face, or the cold damp seeping through my clothes. The rain brought a slight relief – at least the streets were empty and nobody would see me crying hysterically. I’d run aimlessly, finally arriving at a park. I sat on a damp swing and sobbed until I ran out of tears. The shock finally hit me and I started to shiver. I couldn’t process all the information hitting my brain at once. The image in the photo kept replaying in my mind. Molly – her hair darker and face less lined. Derek – less careworn, his shoulders less hunched. Marty – exactly the same – as stunningly beautiful and fresh faced as when he carried me to bed last night. Recalling his face both excited and terrified me.

  No wonder he couldn’t tell me his secret. His words of warning came back to me, echoing around my brain. You don’t know what I am. I’d thought he meant that he wasn’t a student. Now I could see just how significant those words were. He didn’t get older – how was that possible?

  I thought back to how he had told me he’d fought his feelings for me – how he wasn’t meant to fall in love with me, how it went against everything he’d ever known before. He said he couldn’t give me the future I deserved and now, I could partly see what he meant. He wouldn’t grow old like I would. In fact, he hadn’t aged since before I was born. The thought turned my blood cold and it felt like ice pumped in my veins.

  I couldn’t stay sat on the swing forever. At some point, I would have to go home and face him. My deceitfulness in obtaining this information paled in comparison to his continued deceit. I doubted that the Browns knew the truth. He had probably stopped seeing them so they wouldn’t find out. I wondered if there would come a time when he would stop seeing me.

  The rain had lessened now, to a constant drizzle. I didn’t care that I was soaked through. Nothing mattered anymore. I hadn’t felt as isolated since my parents had died. I felt like Marty had helped me rebuild my life, only for it to come crashing back down around me again.