Gravitate

by Jo Duchemin

  Most people would have assumed that Sam and I were an item from that point on, but the truth was we hadn’t kissed on the lips. Emotionally, I was connected to him, seeking solace in his companionship, but romantically things were still on hold. He was living up to his promise of waiting until I was ready. My life became absorbed by three tasks: making it through rehearsals without enduring Donna’s wrath; finding out as much as I could about my life before I was adopted; finding the bottom of Sam’s box of filing.

  The first task was easy – I was word perfect and foot perfect for the show and avoided most of the caustic remarks thrown out by Donna. The second task was impossible, a shroud of secrecy stopping me from making any headway at all. The third task was the most fun. I got to waltz straight through to Sam’s office in front of Andrea and I was always treated to a nice meal afterwards.

  Sam never overstepped the firm boundaries I’d placed on him. There was no kissing, except the odd peck on the cheek on his behalf. Any touching was strictly above belt and suitable for your granny to observe. Any talk of love was banned. I couldn’t bear to hear him speak of his feelings for me when I felt unable to reciprocate.

  One evening, over dinner at an Italian restaurant in the town centre, Sam managed to drop another unintended bombshell in my lap.

  “Claudia, are you happy spending time with me?”

  “Yes, more happy than I’ve been in a long time.” In my head, I added a few conditionals – since my parents died, since Marty left me.

  “Good. If there was someone else, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

  “There’s no-one else,” on this planet, “what is this about?”

  He looked away. “Your dad was worried your mum was having an affair. I don’t ever want to worry like that about you. If you want someone else, please just tell me.”

  “Was she having an affair?” I was gobsmacked, shocked to my very core.

  “I couldn’t tell you, but your dad was convinced.”

  I dropped my fork. “Oh my God…I can’t believe I didn’t realise…There were condoms in her handbag – but if she and my dad couldn’t have babies, why would she need condoms…Oh my God…it was true?”

  “Oh, Claudia, I’m sure there’s another reason.” Sam looked embarrassed, his cheeks deepening slightly.

  He called the waiter over for the bill while I tried to keep my composure. We both knew there was no other explanation. For an infertile woman to keep condoms in her handbag meant only one thing – she didn’t want to get a sexually transmitted disease.

  We left the restaurant and I ran to vomit in an alleyway. Sam was right behind me, holding my hair out of the way. I was mortified.

  “This is awful, I only had one drink of wine…” I stuttered in between heaves.

  “It’s emotion. You had a big shock. It can take its toll in physical ways.”

  “If you ever fancied me, you won’t after this…” I heaved again.

  “I’m taking it as training for when you’re pregnant.”

  I paused from being sick to look at him for a moment. “Jumping the gun much…” and I vomited again.

  “Just a thought…” he said, rubbing my back.

  “Donna’s going to kill me.”

  “Who?”

  “The director of the show. I’ll look like shit after this.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I’ve not been sick much in my life, but when I am it shows – I even get little spots on my eyes where the blood vessels break with the force of being sick.”

  I tilted my head back and breathed in the cold air. I would have given my kingdom for chewing gum.

  “I’ll bet you still look adorable.”

  “She bloody won’t think so. Only a few days before the show too.”

  “Do I get to come and watch?”

  “Of course, Ben got you tickets, didn’t he?”

  “I didn’t mean as Ben’s dad, I meant as your boyfriend.”

  I was saved from answering immediately by another wave of nausea. As I recovered, I thought about his request. It wasn’t that much of a leap from the companionship we shared now. However, before I collected my thoughts into a reply, he spoke again:

  “Come on, Princess, let me take you home, you don’t have to decide anything right now.”

  I managed to refrain from being sick in the car, but it was a close call. I ran full pelt into my house, brandishing my house key like an offensive weapon, running into the downstairs cloakroom to be sick as soon as we were back. I could hear Sam’s footsteps as he entered the house and closed the front door.

  “Princess?” Sam called.

  I was in two minds to answer him. I wanted him to comfort me, which he was especially good at, but I didn’t want him to see me being sick again.

  “I’ll be out in a minute,” I replied.

  My brain searched for an alternative reason why an infertile woman might carry condoms. I could find no viable reasons. My mother must have been having an affair.

  I eventually emerged from the cloakroom, shamefaced. I’d expected Sam to leave, but he was waiting in the living room.

  “Are you OK?” he asked.

  I looked at him and shook my head, sadly.

  “Do you want a cuddle?”

  I nodded slowly and walked to his waiting arms. They weren’t the arms I longed for, but they were available.

  I bit my lip, out of his eyesight, and hesitated. “You know you said if I ever felt lonely, you’d be there.”

  I could feel his eyes looking at the back of my head.

  “I’m not ready for…well, you know…but I don’t want to be alone tonight.” I hated saying the words, hated being dependent on someone who wasn’t Marty, but I’d realised he wasn’t coming back.

  “I told you I’d stay with you as long as you wanted.”

  Sam guided me to bed that night, stripping down to his shirt and boxers to preserve my modesty. I brushed my teeth thoroughly and emerged from the shower room wearing a vest and long jersey trousers. Spending the night with Sam was pleasant, comforting. I briefly wondered how many boys my age would be able to cope with sleeping next to the object of their affection, without becoming overwhelmed.

  I awoke wrapped in his arms. It felt nice. Not the same as waking up with Marty – nothing would ever feel like that. I tried to wipe Marty from my memory, knowing he would never come back – I’d never know a love like that again.

  Sam went down to the kitchen while I had a shower and when I’d finished I joined him. I could smell coffee and toast.

  “You can’t go to rehearsal on an empty stomach.”

  “Thank you for last night,” I said, feeling my cheeks burn.

  “I’m here for you. Can I finally start calling you my girlfriend?”

  I nodded.

  “Do you want to tell Ben, or shall I?”

  “I’ll see him first. It’s best to tell him straight away. He has his suspicions.”

  “If you’re sure,” Sam kissed my cheek, smiling. “My girlfriend, Claudia. I like the sound of that.” He walked off, whistling. I looked at the spot where Marty had disappeared from my life. This was the next best thing, I told myself.

  Sam dropped me off at my rehearsal, his red Audi capturing the attention of all the students outside the theatre, including Ben. Sam waved at him and roared off. I was on my own on this one. Ben walked over to me with a face like thunder.

  “I knew you were fucking him.”

  “Shut the fuck up!” I figured if he was going to swear at me, I would swear right back.

  He laughed. “I guess I shouldn’t use that language in front of my future step mother.”

  “Nothing like that happened.”

  “Not yet.”

  “He’s been a good friend to me.” I hadn’t told my friends ab
out finding out I was adopted – that was my personal secret.

  “A good friend who stays the night?”

  “And? Does Sofia not stay the night with you?”

  “What’s your point?”

  “Your dad deserves happiness. Look, we were just friends before, but now he’s my boyfriend.”

  “Boy?” Ben gave a sarcastic chuckle. “He’s old enough to be your father.”

  “That’s not a problem for me.”

  “It’s a problem for me.”

  “Why?”

  He was quiet for a few moments.

  “Ben, why is it a problem?” I wanted to know the cause of his anger.

  He walked away without answering.

  The show approached, with my apprehension about the costumes fading in comparison to the fact that neither Ben, nor Sofia, were talking to me. I immersed myself in my character, doing nothing for myself except sending some tickets to Sam.

  Every time I tried to make amends and speak to either Ben or Sofia, they walked away from me. I was so busy that Sam had taken to phoning me last thing at night, knowing I would answer my phone then. I hadn’t had time to go into the office, so phone conversations were our only way to stay in contact. He said he preferred calling me at night as he liked my voice to be the last one he heard when he went to sleep. I enjoyed speaking to him too. He made me feel safe. I loved that he’d made mistakes in life, but had come through them and was a better person for it.

  I missed Marty, like oxygen, but I had to try to forge some kind of existence without him. I figured I couldn’t find a better man than Sam.

  The first night of the show loomed and my nerves took a hold of me. Somehow I got through the performance and received a riotous applause from the audience at the end. Sam was ready to meet me backstage after the performance. I removed my make up in time to see him get blanked by both Ben and Sofia.

  “Why won’t they talk to you?”

  “They don’t like that I’m in love with someone younger than both of them,” he kissed the tip of my nose. “You were amazing.”

  I smiled. “Thank you.”

  “And that outfit…”

  “Shhh…”

  “If that outfit is your idea of foreplay, I totally get it.”

  I smacked his arm.

  “Sorry, too much, I know.”

  “Why won’t Ben and Sofia talk to me?”

  “They think you’re being a fool and that I’m taking advantage of you.”

  I stared him in the eyes. “Do you think you’re taking advantage of me?”

  “Not at all. I fell in love.”

  I couldn’t reply to him. I allowed him to collect me up into an intimate embrace. He drove me home in his car. He didn’t stay the night.

  After a few nights, the show was over and gone. No more ‘Starlet’. No more listening to songs that reminded me of Marty. I felt sad inside.

  Sam attended every performance and drove me home after each one. After the final performance, he took me for dinner at one of the best restaurants in town. Jessica, one of the other girls who was also in the show, was in the restaurant with her parents. Sam spotted them, he knew her father from some business deals, and told me he’d better go and say hello. They were only two tables away from us, I didn’t feel threatened when he left me. I could hear their conversation.

  “So, Sam, what did you pay to get your daughter the lead role in the show? Clearly, I didn’t put enough in our donation for Jessica.”

  “Claudia is my girlfriend. She got the role on her talents.”

  “Oh…oh, she did brilliantly.”

  Sam stomped back over to me and grabbed my hand, pulling me from the table. He led me to his car and drove to his house in an immense temper.

  I was scared to speak. I’d never seen him so angry.

  “Claudia, are you scared of me?”

  “No?” I meant it to be a statement but it came out as a question.

  Sam pulled me close and held me as he whispered to me. “I didn’t mean to upset you, baby, I just hate this prejudice against us. My own son…” He shook his head.

  He got out of the car and opened my door, leading me to the beautiful house. I followed willingly.

  He led me by the hand into the living room, pressing a button on a remote control to fill the room with exotic, arousing music. He began dancing with me on the spot. It was sensual, sultry. The heat of our bodies moving together was almost stifling. Part of me thought, if this is the best I can hope for, my life would be just fine.

  “Claudia, you drive me crazy. Haven’t I proved how much I love you?”

  I nodded.

  “Stay the night, let me show you how much I love you.”

  I was wordless. His love for me wasn’t a tenth of what I felt for Marty. But Marty wasn’t coming back. He was gone. I liked Sam. Sam was safe, secure.

  “Claudia, I know you had your heart broken. I won’t do that to you. You can be my wife, if you want to. I’d like nothing more. Don’t you think we’re meant to be together? I’d love nothing more than to spend the rest of my life making you happy.”

  I’d never heard a speech like it in my life. Not from a human, at least. I shrugged off my reservations. He wanted me. Forever. I wanted to be able to love him back. I wanted to be what he deserved.

  Chapter 32

  “OK,” I said.

  Sam looked at me, stunned for a moment.

  “So I can kiss you properly?” He waited for my nod then he kissed me, months of pent-up passion spilling out of him. I felt no butterflies, but it was pleasant. “And you’re staying the night?” Sam asked, slightly breathless after our kiss.

  I nodded.

  “As my girlfriend?”

  The unspoken implication of his question hung in the air. He’d waited so patiently for so long. Now that I’d decided to commit to him, it seemed almost deceitful to hold back.

  I nodded again, unable to speak anymore.

  “Then this calls for chilled champagne – there’s some in the cellar, I’ll go get it.”

  “OK.” I squeaked, comprehending what I’d just agreed to as I watched him walk away. I stared out of the window at a couple in the park opposite Sam’s home. They were out for a last stroll with their dog – he was a big Labrador-style dog, jumping like he was on springs. The woman was a redhead like me, but probably ten years or so older. The dog sprinted off and the man kissed the woman before running after the dog. When she turned sideways, it was clear she was heavily pregnant. Had I really been willing to give up that opportunity to spend my life with Marty? I surely had. Was I willing to enter a life like that with Sam? I wasn’t completely sure – perhaps it was because I was still young.

  “Claudia?” Sam’s voice sounded concerned. I turned around and smiled at him, watching the fear leave his face – I could tell he’d been worried I’d changed my mind. He continued: “There’s no champagne in the cellar – I’ll bet Ben and Sofia drank it all. I’m going to drive to the nearest decent shop and buy some.”

  “Is it worth it?”

  “Of course it is for you, Princess Claudia. Just stay here and stroll about your palace. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

  “If you’re sure. I’m happy with diet coke.”

  “My princess doesn’t drink diet coke – she drinks champagne.”

  I smiled and he left out of the front door. My phone started ringing, echoing around the empty house. I hadn’t been expecting anybody to phone me, so I waited for the caller to speak first.

  “Miss Lee?” an unknown male voice asked.

  “Yes. Who is this?”

  “Steve Perkins, I work with the police service. We’ve been doing some forensic work on your parents’ car. It was delayed because the cause of the accident was presumed to be the other driver.”

  �
��He was on drugs, right?”

  “Yes, but that wasn’t the reason for the crash. I examined both cars involved in the collision. Your parents’ car had just been serviced, yes?”

  “Two weeks before the crash, for its one year service, why?”

  “I hate to be the one to tell you this, but your parents’ car had its brakes tampered with – the cable was cut, rendering them useless.”

  “Who would do such a thing?”

  “That’s where the real police officers do their work. I just examine the cars. Could be mistaken identity – we picked up a known criminal driving a Volvo, just like the one owned by your parents, two weeks ago.”

  “Thank you for calling.” I wanted to get him off the phone. I’d accepted my parents dying in a freak accident. I couldn’t cope if their deaths had been caused by murder. I didn’t want Sam to see me upset, he would definitely think I’d changed my mind.

  I looked about the kitchen and instinctively tidied up, seeking something to occupy my mind. This could be my kitchen if I wanted it to be, if I wanted to be Sam’s wife. I picked up my coat, which was hanging off the back of one of the chairs and moved it into the cupboard under the stairs. I noticed Sam’s jacket hanging off the opposite chair to mine. I picked it up to move it. I wondered if the smell of his clothes would evoke the same reactions in me as Marty’s scent had done. I lifted his jacket to my nose and heard something crash to the ground from his pocket. Embarrassed, I bent down to pick up the offending item and saw a car key lying on the floor.

  I picked it up and examined it more closely. It was a Volvo key and tied to the key ring was a brown tag. The brown tag had the name ‘Bells Motor Group’ and underneath, in rushed pen ink, was my parents’ car’s number plate.

  Chapter 33

  My brain tried to conjure up numerous reasons for why Sam would have the spare key to my parents’ car, but found none. I knew my dad had taken the car in to the garage himself, worried that my mum would ask for a new set of tyres that weren’t needed. I examined the handwriting on the brown tag on the key – it certainly looked like my dad’s scribble. Dad would have left the spare key and taken his key away – I knew he’d picked up the Volvo in a rush, as he’d had a parent consultation evening at my school that night – I remembered it clearly, worrying that he’d miss the appointment with my English teacher. Why would Sam have the spare key? If my dad had forgotten to pick it up, surely it would still be at the garage. Not in Sam’s jacket pocket. I knew Dad wouldn’t have trusted anyone else to collect the car from the garage, he was more protective of the Volvo than he was of me. He must have collected the car and the spare key that night – he arrived at parents’ evening on time. So how did Sam have the key?