Where Are You

by Bella Donnis

  “I’m sorry, what did you say? I’m having great trouble understanding you.” Gia said, leaning forward, squinting her eyes.

  Erin knew she should probably interject here and say something, but Gia was still way better than she was at dealing with these things. Besides, it wasn’t as if she’d suddenly accept their invitation for a date, other than to perhaps stick to her side of the bargain, which was most likely by now null and void.

  The tidier of the two spoke. “We were watching you on the river. I don’t know if you noticed, but we’re double scullers too.”

  Gia’s expression softened from the scowl she’d had since disembarking, to a mere pout. “And?”

  “Girls, you’re talking to last year’s Fairbairns’ winners.” The tidy one gestured to himself and his comrade, who could easily have been his twin if it wasn’t for the difference in hair; both facial and of the head.

  “You won Fairbairns?” Erin squeaked.

  “Aye.” The unkempt one confirmed with a proud grin. “You both have great stamina and we can tell you put an awful lot into your training. But your technique could do with some alterations.”

  “Really? And you two nice fellows just happen to want to help us out…And all out of the kindness of your hearts?” Gia asked with sarcasm, crouching down to grab the boat handles again.

  “Look, I think the four of us really need to start again. I’m Scruffy, this is my twin brother Mikey. We row for different colleges but in the same category, that should make us enemies as far as Cambridge boating goes, but we’d really like to help you out because you clearly have potential.”

  “I’m sure you’ve noticed, but around here, rowing is serious business.” Mikey came in, “plus you proved your worth back in September. I’ll never forget that day. Let’s get changed and meet at The Baron of Beef and we’ll take you through how you can improve and maybe, just maybe win at Fairbairns.” He saw the sceptical, squinted eyed look Gia still gave him. “It’s not a date. We genuinely want to help.”

  “Sixteen seconds.” Erin muttered to Gia under her breath.

  She sighed, “fine, but no funny stuff.”

  “It wasn’t easy to overcome.” Scruffy said, glaring at the spot that had become infamous for when two female freshers embarrassed two second year males with a pair of pool cues. “We still get called names and the other week a group of students wanted their pictures taken with us on the spot where it happened.” He laughed, thankfully seeing the funny side. “The landlord is thinking about mounting a plaque in commemoration.”

  “You have to admit, you both deserved it.” Gia said, taking a sip of wine. “Though we had to come back later and apologise to the landlord.”

  “We had a message on Hermes saying we’d be disciplined if we didn’t come back.” Erin referred to Cambridge’s internal email system. “Obviously someone recognised us and didn’t take too kindly to the prank.”

  “Aye, yeah, we did deserve it.” Mikey said, waving a hand. “But we’re still living the damn thing down...Never mind. We know not to cross you two in future.”

  “So you won the Fairbairns’ trophy during your freshman year?” Gia asked. “Tell us your secrets.”

  “The most important thing you already have.” Scruffy said, leaning back in his seat, gesticulating wildly with his hand. “You get up early every day and make it to the river, no matter the weather. You put in the hours…That’s the most important thing…Conditioning yourself.”

  “But it’s the little things, and there are many of them, that make all the difference in the world.” Mikey said, looking at Gia as though she was the most attractive woman on earth. If Erin was being truthful, it bothered her and it bothered her a great deal. Mikey’s enlarged pupils, his body language that mirrored Gia’s and the fact he kept stealing glances in her direction all spoke of his infatuation.

  “How can you tell if you’re not out there on the boat with us?” Erin asked, trying to take Mikey’s eyes away from Gia’s chest and exposed arm flesh, if only for a few seconds.

  “We don’t need to be out there when we can watch from Corpus Christi Boat House,” Scruffy said. “And, speaking from an engineering and bio-mechanical point of view, there are small tweaks you should be taking advantage of.” He sniggered to himself. “They obviously don’t teach this at Downing, which explains a few things.”

  “Yeah, all right.” Gia waved a hand in defeat. “So what’s your advice?”

  “First, you need to switch positions.” Scruffy pointed to Erin. “You’re slightly less powerful than your Spanish friend, so you need to let her sit at stern and set the rhythm.”

  Oh great, so now Erin would be staring at Gia’s back the whole time, trying not to drool over her rear end as it slid to-and-fro along the track – Distraction anybody?

  “Your oars will have fractionally less resistance. That one thing alone will knock a couple seconds off your finishing time.” Scruffy took a sip from his beer. “We noticed your oars weren’t leather patched.”

  “Leather patched?” Erin asked. “Is that to stop that awful rattling noise?”

  Mikey laughed, “not just the noise, but because your oars are moving around within the locks, you’re wasting energy…You’re having to make compensating corrections each and every time you make a stroke. Again, it’s minute, but it adds up.”

  Over the next hour; Mikey and Scruffy took Erin and Gia through a range of techniques, strategies and tips, some of which could be interpreted as borderline cheating if only everybody ‘in the know’ wasn’t already doing it. The standard foot straps were made to a one-size-fits-all, causing smaller feet, typically found on women, to move about due to the slack, thus wasting more energy. The advice was to punch in more holes to tighten the hold around the feet. Erin thought she saw a light bulb turn on above Gia’s head when she heard that one. They were also advised to clean the underside of the boat before taking it out onto the Cam. “Leaves and all the other crap that gathers underneath will only create more drag.”

  Though they saved the best, most obvious, yet most underutilised tip for the end. “It never fails to amaze us,” Mikey said as he watched both Erin and Gia lean forward in their seats, “nobody ever warms up! I’m sure you’ve experienced being knackered out after only a few minutes of rowing? That’s because you didn’t warm up. Your cardiovascular system needs time to gradually build-up to full working capacity, just like a motor in any vehicle in the world. If you go all-out, full pelt straight away, then of course you’ll fatigue quickly. But if you warm up before getting in the scull then you can go hell for leather from the starting pistol and maintain the same rhythm for the entire race.”

  Erin and Gia turned to face each other, the realisation hitting them together. “On race day we jog on the spot before entering the scull.” Gia said.

  “Aye, well most people just stand around freezing their bollocks off.” Mikey said.

  By the end, both girls were itching to get back on the water.

  “Tomorrow, six in the morning…Let’s see what difference all this makes.” Gia looked from Erin to Scruffy. “Thank you. But I’m Italian, not Spanish.”

  “My apologies.” Scruffy held up his hands in a gesture of mock surrender.

  “I know I promised I wouldn’t. But with you sitting here, so close, I just can’t resist.” Mikey brought his phone out and placed it in front of Gia. “Can I have your number?”

  Erin straightened against her seat. Gia was into girls; she liked boobs, smooth and hairless skin as well as the sweet smells that accompanied girls. There was no way she’d give Mikey her number - please, please, please, God, no. She wouldn’t do that – Would she? Erin couldn’t handle the thought of a hot, charismatic athlete’s naked body writhing on top of her friend. It wasn’t just that it would feel almost like a betrayal – Gia after all came out to Erin during a moment when they really connected. It was just as much that Erin was still coming to terms with her own feelings for her best friend. She hadn’t admitte
d them to herself yet, simply because she didn’t know.

  “Hey, didn’t you say we were going to revise for the practical this evening? We’d better get a move on.” Erin tugged on Gia’s arm, trying to distract her from the two men.

  “What’s the rush?” Gia resisted the pull and turned back to Mikey. Then she took hold of his phone. “I don’t give this out to just anybody you know.”

  Mikey’s face lit up.

  Even his brother seemed impressed, surprised even. “Looks like I owe you five quid.” Scruffy slid a fiver across the table top.

  “Cheers.”

  “What’s that for?” Erin asked.

  Scruffy hesitated, then spoke. “It’s just that I thought Gia was, you know…” his body juddered and Erin could have sworn Mikey had kicked him beneath the table.

  Gia handed Mikey his phone back. “Best you call after this week. Like she said, we have a practical examination on Friday.”

  Scruffy held a clenched fist to his mouth and coughed. After a few seconds, he repeated the action, looking to Erin as he did.

  “Give me your phone.” Erin said, holding out her hand. She punched in her number while paying close attention to Gia’s reaction.

  The Italian was looking in Erin’s direction with a faux smile and swinging her legs beneath the table. “You know what, Mikey, on second thoughts, ring me Saturday.”

  “Look what I did.” Gia pointed to the makeshift treatment table she’d obviously spent at least twenty minutes creating.

  “Wow, Gia, I’m really not sure what to make of it.” Erin stared with uncertainty at the desk which had been pulled away from the wall. On top, a layer of cushions that had to have come from the common room couch overlapped the edges of the desk, but that was ok because Gia’s chair propped up one end, whilst her suitcase, tipped on its side, held up the other. Over everything, she’d draped a blanket. It was almost enough to disguise the obvious health hazard. “I suppose it’ll do, I think.”

  “It’ll do? I’d like to see how anyone else has bettered this.” She skipped to the CD player and then nice soothing sounds began playing through the speakers.

  After a few seconds the familiarity of the music chimed with Erin. “What is this?”

  “You mean, you’ve never heard it?”

  “No…I mean…I have, it definitely sounds familiar. But who is it?”

  “Vivaldi.” She closed her eyes and gently swayed her head as the violin came to the fore. “This particular piece is Four Seasons.” She gracefully glided toward the treatment table and gestured for Erin to attempt to climb it. “So lie back, relax and enjoy because it lasts for a while.”

  Erin stared at the table as she contemplated the least hazardous way of mounting the thing. She hopped up and tried to relax as the desk creaked.

  Gia brought over a book at an opened page and set it down on the desk beside Erin’s knee. “Comfy?”

  “As much as possible.”

  Gia rolled up the cuffs of Erin’s shorts, sliding them up as far as they could go. Her leg let out an involuntary jerk as cold fingers grazed the inside of her thigh. This was followed by a shiver as Gia applied a few drops of oil to the area.

  “Quadriceps tendonitis…” Gia slipped her hand beneath Erin’s knee, pressing in softly as she used her fingers to feel just above the knee joint for the tendon. Then she massaged across the fibres with her fingertips. “I’m not hurting you am I?”

  “No, you can go as deep as you like.” Erin lay back, closed her eyes and listened to Vivaldi. She concentrated on the feeling of Gia’s fingers pressing, stretching and massaging the tendon as well as the muscle positioned above. There was nothing sexual in it, but it was still a thrilling experience. Erin’s knee was raised off the table and then she felt what had to be Gia’s own knee below, propping her own up. The tendon was pinched hard as Gia flexed Erin’s knee. “Hmmm.” Erin hummed a little too loud as the tendon stretched enough for her to feel it. Four Seasons changed rhythm which had to mean it had gone into summer or was it autumn? It didn’t matter. The highs, the lows, the emotion of classical Europa at its most beautiful filled Erin’s world – Along with Gia’s touch.

  A solitary tear ran down Erin’s cheek.

  She knew it.

  She’d suspected it for a long while, but now she was sure. She was in love with Gia. She felt safe around her, comfortable and free. What’s more, she felt alive in her presence, like Gia was the very air she needed to survive. A year ago Erin could never have imagined she’d be as close to another person as she was with Gia. She wasn’t simply the best friend a girl could ever hope to have – She helped Erin breathe.

  Gia’s phone vibrated and she jumped up from her position, jolting Erin back into reality. She turned the music off so Erin could hear her speak. “A text from Mikey…God, he’s keen. He’d like to meet Saturday night.”

  Erin sighed and turned away to wipe the tear from her cheek. As she sat up, she felt the slickness that had developed between her legs; there was no mistaking that or what it meant.

  Gia fired off a reply, threw the phone to the bed, turned the music back on and returned to the table. “Your turn, babe…You’ll find the muscle becomes more pliant after a few minutes…Damn cold.” Gia took her position, lying back on the table and closed her eyes, losing herself in Vivaldi.

  Erin rolled up the cuffs of Gia’s shorts, exposing her thighs, long, smooth, toned and Italian browned.

  But damn it, what was the damn Italian playing at with Mikey? Erin would need to have the conversation with Gia – And soon.

  The problem was that Erin didn’t know if she possessed the courage needed. How much could a person grow in one year?

  Chapter Seven

  Decision

  Erin took a small sip from her beer and checked her watch. The Snug Bar was situated depressingly close to Downing, but it was either here or The Baron of Beef, which Erin had not been inside since Gianna’s vanishing act and according to Scruffy, neither had he since his brother’s death.

  “Hurry up you loser.” Erin muttered to herself just as the tall, apparently tidy Scruffy approached the table.

  “Sorry I’m late, can I get you a…” he looked at Erin’s drink and stopped, “…never mind.”

  Erin stood and they hugged, before taking their seats. Scruffy removed his jacket, slung it over the back of the chair and snapped his fingers at a young barman who just happened to be passing.

  “Um, Scruff, I don’t think they do table service here.”

  “Nah, it’ll be fine.” He winked at her then turned round to meet the eye of the barman. “Evening, I’m Chief Running Tab. Keep stopping by here every fifteen or twenty minutes and I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “No problem, sir, can I get you anything to drink?”

  Scruffy gestured to four girls sat two tables away. “How about something to make that lot look more appealing.”

  Erin buried her head in her hands and gave serious consideration to kicking him beneath the table. “Just get him one of these.” She raised her Corona to the barman. “It never gets easier does it.” She said to him as the barman walked away, realising the meaning of her words were ambiguous.

  “Are you talking about your present situation or being in my company?”

  She smiled - He got it. “Both.”

  “It’s been a while since we’ve done this. You’re normally too entrenched in your work to bother with your old university mates. So tell me…If I couldn’t already have guessed by your overall demeanour on your happy day…” Scruffy said, referring to the engagement party. “…but there’s clearly something wrong. You’re not happy are you?”

  “I know, it’s been a while. I can only apologise, but you’re in my thoughts, believe it or not.” Erin paused and waited for the barman to place Scruffy’s drink down and walk away. “So how’s work?”

  “You’re avoiding my question.”

  “I’m postponing answering your question.” She’d thought t
hrough what she wanted to get off her chest and how she wanted to say it, but didn’t think she’d had anywhere near enough to drink yet. “How’s work?”

  He exhaled and took a sip from his beer. “Bloody politics always gets in the way. We could come up with the best wind turbine design on earth but if the government already has contracts with some other company then we can kiss it goodbye. We have people looking into whether certain damn government ministers have shares in these companies…Or their families…Ah, don’t get me started.” He took a long pull from his beer. “I mean, every time you drive by the bloody things, they’re never working.”

  “I agree with you.” Erin sat back, happy to listen, happy to delay.

  During the next hour and three drinks each, they spoke about work, Scruffy’s bachelor status and Cambridge’s rank in the elite universities of the world; that since the days when they were students, Cambridge had improved in the Quacquarelli Symonds World University Rankings. “We’re still lagging behind Harvard, but at least we’re ahead of bloody Oxford, even if they did win the Boat Race this year.” Scruffy said, even though it depended entirely on which ranking system you looked at. Sure enough, some even positioned Oxford ahead of Cambridge. To that, they both agreed those ranking systems should be ignored since whoever put those lists together had obviously been to Oxford.

  Then the topic switched to Erin’s recent engagement party. “How did he get in contact with you?” She’d been trying to figure that out ever since the event.

  “He emailed and then phoned.” Scruffy said.

  “No, but I mean, how? How did he know about you?” Given that she hardly ever spoke of anything that connected her life to Gianna.

  “I don’t know. I mean, he’s your fiancé...He’s supposed to know you isn’t he? Maybe he went back a few years on your Facebook profile…No wait, you’re not even on it are you. Erin, when are you going to join 2014? Anyway…Where there’s a will there’s a way. But it was a pleasure to be a part of it. He’s a lovely guy. I’ll just always regret never having had my own wicked way with you.” Well at least the alcohol was now kicking in.