Where Are You

by Bella Donnis

  “He is…He is a lovely guy.” Erin’s eyes glazed over.

  “And there it goes again! You keep doing that look.” He sat forward, wanting her to take notice.

  “What look? What do you mean?”

  “It’s nothing short of a guilty expression. Like you’re thinking of something else.” He took a long drink from his beer. “Or someone else. And I have a feeling I know who it is.” He paused, gaging Erin’s reaction, which had remained as indifferent as she could force. “So, since you’re on the verge of destroying the lives of two people, one of whom I care deeply about, I think you’d better tell me everything that’s on your mind. And no more stalling.”

  Erin exhaled deeply. “Well I think you’re right when you say you ‘know who it is.’ Who else could it be?” She braced herself for her upcoming admission.

  “She made an impression on all of us, not least of all Mikey.”

  “Scruffy, I just don’t know what to do. It’s been ten years. Why is she still in my thoughts? She doesn’t deserve to be in my thoughts. Not like this. Not now when I should be settling down with Ben. But I just can’t get her out of my head. Ever since that damn poem…” Her voice cracked and was thankful for the brief respite when Scruffy interrupted her.

  “…Poem? I never had you down as a poet.”

  “I’m not really. It was pretty bad, but it was truthful.”

  “Read it to me.”

  “No way. I think considering the mess I’m in, I could do without anybody seeing that.” She noticed how her hand shook around the beer as she brought the bottle to her mouth. “That damn Italian.”

  “Did you ever find out what happened to her?” He asked, moving further forward.

  “Only what we knew when she left.”

  “And you’ve done no further research? You’ve not tried contacting her?”

  “I put her out of my mind for many years. That was the whole reason for writing the poem, for some closure. I just never banked on it fluttering back into existence.”

  “Fluttering?”

  “Never mind. Of course back then, with the internet in its infancy, social media not existing; stalking a girl from a different country just wasn’t that easy.”

  “But you’ve looked now?”

  “I haven’t been able to bring myself to do it.” What if she was still insanely attractive and Erin was stuck at the other end of the continent unable to do a thing about it?

  “So you don’t even know what her present situation is?”

  “Or if she’s even alive. For all I know she’s married with kids.”

  “Or maybe she’s dreadfully unhappy and waiting for that perfect person to walk back into her life. That’s if you can find her.” He pointed at Erin to add emphasis to his next point. “That’s if you want to find her? The fact we’re even here now suggests to me you’ve been giving this some serious thought…Or at least I hope you have.”

  “Thought?” Erin unleashed an uncharacteristically loud cackle. “I haven’t been able to think of anything but. Poor Ben…I’ve never lied to him but I’ve been, let’s say, economical with the truth lately. No, wait…I did lie about being ill.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Ugh, this is such a mess.”

  “Like I said, he’s a good man and he too deserves to be happy. But I don’t see how you, in your present state of mind can settle down and be happy with him. You’ll only end up making the pair of you miserable.”

  “I know. I can’t in all good conscience marry Ben with such a large and unresolved hole in my life.”

  Scruffy paused, allowing the gravity of what Erin had just said to sink in; not just in his head, but hers. “So you really have thought this through then. I’m guessing you must have felt under pressure to accept his proposal…Because of the grand gesture and everybody being there?”

  Erin breathed, “if only he’d proposed a year earlier. Things could have been different.”

  “Aye, maybe. Or perhaps all this would have remained festering beneath the surface.” He took another sip from his drink and hardened his expression. “What if nothing comes of this? What if you do find her and she’s fat, ugly or has been taken prisoner in some Italian convent and she’s living out her life as a nun. Then could you still marry Ben and be happy? Would it even be fair by him that he’s second best?”

  “Yes, you’re right.”

  “I’d hate to see you burn all your bridges, but you need to also decide if all this is fair on him.”

  “Of course.”

  He smiled, “and if you do burn them all then I’d be more than happy to pick up the pieces.” It was a welcome light joke given the seriousness of the last few minutes. “This question may be a bit simplistic, but I just have to ask…”

  “…Go on.”

  “Are you a lesbian? ...I mean, do you consider yourself a lesbian?”

  She hesitated and was about to speak when…

  “…You see, if you even need to think about that.” Scruffy interrupted.

  “It was never really as black and white as that. I never put a label on it. I mean, I never used to think of girls…women in that way…At least not before Gianna. She changed everything for me. It was the person I was in love with. And I thought she was in love with me.”

  “Do people who’re in love disappear without saying a word?”

  “Not really.”

  “I’m not trying to put you off…Just trying to make you see clearer. She left, never said a bloody word to anybody and nobody over here has a bloody clue as to the reasons.”

  “Exactly Scruffy.”

  “Perhaps there was a family disaster or something.”

  “Or maybe she realised she wasn’t a lesbian.” Erin said with gloom.

  Scruffy laughed. “Yeah, or maybe Mount Vesuvius erupted and buried Napoli under twenty metres of ash.” His certainty as to Gianna’s lesbianism came as a comfort to Erin, which in itself said an awful lot to her.

  “Hey, don’t laugh, that actually happened.”

  “Oh, I’m fully aware of Pompeii.”

  Erin paused. “Can I ask you something?”

  He straightened and took a long sip from his beer. “You want to ask about Mikey?”

  Erin smiled sadly and softened her eyes. “Do you think Gianna leaving had anything to do with what he did?”

  “No!” He didn’t even need to think about it, which came as a great relief to her. “Mikey had his problems, but the damn Italian was not one of them.” He smiled thinking about his brother. “To give the man credit, he lived a full life without any regrets. If Mikey had your problem, there’s no question about what he’d do. He wouldn’t live a second not knowing what could have been. I only wish I could emulate him in that regard.”

  “So you’re saying I should find her?”

  “It can only be your call. I’m saying Mikey wouldn’t have lived with not knowing. But there’s one thing you can be one hundred percent sure of…”

  “…What’s that?”

  “Any one of us could die tomorrow.” Scruffy tilted his head and straightened in his seat as he saw the tears pouring from Erin’s eyes.

  “I have to find her.” She sniffed, wiping at her eyes with a sleeve.

  Scruffy shuffled uncomfortably. “Good God girl, not this.” The barman walked by and Scruffy placed a hand on his arm to stop him. “What does the tab come to, mate?” He asked, opening up his wallet.

  “Eighteen pounds, sir.”

  “Keep the change.” Scruffy took twenty five, placed it in his palm and went to shake the barman’s hand.

  Erin’s eyes widened as she braced herself.

  The crews loosened themselves up, mobilised shoulder joints, stretched their quads, psyched themselves with private rituals, or else shivered in the afternoon breeze. Erin had done all that several times already.

  “Why the fuck is there a crew from Oxford?” She asked nobody in particular, glaring at the two impossibly tall girls wearing the distinctive all black colou
rs of their rival educational institution, like black was supposed to be intimidating. Erin stared in amazement at their muscular physiques and then with distraction as they underwent some bizarre pre-race ritual that involved patting each others’ shoulders in fast rhythm.

  “Erin, it’s not like you to swear.” Gia said, taking a break from her on the spot jogging, jaw almost hitting the floor. She rubbed Erin’s arm in an attempt to calm her nerves. “Ignore them, let’s just concentrate on our own performance, that’s the only thing we have control over.”

  “Yeah, I know that, but still…Oxford shouldn’t be here.” She had enough trouble coming to terms with racing the six other Cambridge boats that had the fastest qualifying times to make the final. Had Oxford been granted automatic qualification? She assumed this one Oxford boat had won the Oxford Christ Church Regatta the other week and had thus come to pit themselves against Cambridge.

  Erin, Gia, Scruffy and Mikey stood on the starting platform that had been erected over the river outside of the Jesus College Boat House, who every year hosted the Fairbairn Cup. Erin and Gia had drawn lane four and now, with all eight boats in position, it was time for Scruffy and Mikey to make the near two mile cycle downstream to the finish line. They’d been helpful in carrying the boat into position and just as helpful in assisting with cleaning the boat’s underside and applying their own leather patches to the oars. They were a loan and a good luck gesture.

  Mikey pecked Gia on the cheek. “See you both at the finish line.” He waved without looking back as he trod along the platform with his brother.

  Erin stopped her on the spot jogging. “What the heck was that?” Her words came out a little louder than intended and the Oxford crew in lane three glared at her. But more to the bloody point - Were they pecking now? Was this another new development Erin would need to adjust to? She’d not yet managed to come to terms with them having had their second date a few nights ago.

  “What the heck was what?” Gia asked, checking her descent into the boat, her long tanned leg straining to steady herself.

  Um, let’s see – You’re a lesbian but boys are kissing you. “Mikey kissed you?”

  “Um, yeah…So what? He kissed you too.”

  “No he didn’t!”

  “But his brother did.”

  “Um, hello, no he didn’t!” Erin thought she was the one who was distracted by everything.

  “What do you care, Erin?” Gia stood and faced her, peaches winning out over the river smell. “How’d your date with Scruffy go the other night?” The same night, coincidentally, that Mikey and Gia had gone feeding the ducks along the Cam, Erin and Scruffy had gone bird watching along the same said river.

  “He showed me a Kingfisher nest. How’d yours go?” Erin asked, half turning her head, but maintaining full concentration.

  “To be honest, Erin, that’s none of your business.” She half manhandled Erin aside in an attempt to enter the boat, her touch sending a shiver down Erin’s spine, then she stopped. “You Erin…You enter first. You’re behind me!”

  Erin scanned across the other lanes, realising they were the only ones not in their boat. “Shit!” Almost slipping while embarking, she took her seat, fastening her feat extra tight, using the new punch holes in the straps. But by God, Gia was frustrating her right now. But this was the time to focus.

  Gia secured herself in position and twisted back. “This is it.” Despite everything, she still managed to give Erin a smile, nearly melting her heart as she did.

  Seven months of intense training all came down to this moment. Their bodies had undergone almost unbelievable changes. Erin had dropped five percent of her body fat and could now see her abdominal muscles. Erin had noticed, many times, how Gia’s calf muscles had started to pop when she wore heels. They were both highly conditioned and physically prepared. However, when it came to the all-important mental preparation, that was a different matter entirely. This would be their first proper competitive race and so the pressure that was on, Erin had never before experienced. She looked around, surrounded by muscular athletes, particularly those black clad Goddesses in the Oxford boat next to her – So close she could hear them whispering tactics. Was nobody else nervous, edgy, panicking, about to throw up? Or was Erin the only one?

  Then something unthinkable happened.

  Erin’s periphery vision disappeared in a haze of darkness. Damn it! Not now – Please God, not now. She wanted, needed to do this for Gia, her friend who she loved. Her hands quivered around the oars, the leather patches doing their job in preventing the rattling that would otherwise give her away; her foot straps carrying out an identical job below. Her heart beat in her throat, the feeling of drowning almost preventing her from breathing. Then the haze crept into her frontal vision so that all she could see was Gia’s back, in front of her.

  “Gia, it’s happening.” Erin stammered. “I can’t see very well.”

  She twisted around, wide eyed. “Oh my God, you’re shaking.”

  “Two minute warning.” A voice echoed over the intercom system.

  “I’m not sure I can do this. I’m going to let you down real bad, I can feel it.”

  “Come here.” Gia wrapped Erin in her arms as much as she could given the restrictions of her position and after several seconds, spoke low enough so nobody else could hear. “I’m so proud of you for getting this far, honey, it makes no difference what happens today. No matter where we finish, I’m here with you, and we’re doing this together. We win or lose together.”

  “Yes…Together.”

  “Just ignore everybody else…It’s you and I, alone. It’s simply another every day training session. Just the two of us on a quiet river in a boat, doing what we love.” She paused and took a breath. “With who we love.”

  “One minute warning. All crews standby.”

  Erin blinked; the fog in her immediate vision had succumbed, leaving only a grey cloud enveloping everything that wasn’t Gia and their boat. Erin kissed Gia on the cheek. “I think I’ll be fine. Let’s do our best.” She released Gia and watched as she turned back to face the front. Her beautiful, lush tanned back would be what Erin would concentrate on. That and her stroke rhythm.

  “Crews ready…” Then the starting cannon blasted and the girls were out of the blocks.

  Nothing outside of her narrow field of vision existed. Her smell was limited to the fishy odour that drifted up from the river, mixed with her own sweat. All she heard were the rhythmical splashes of blades striking water, interspersed with Gia’s grunts with every heave of the oars. The heavy drag of pulling blades through water was all she could feel, making her muscles ache. The taste of sweat on her lips as it ran down her forehead. Above all, she concentrated on the sight of Gia; her rhythm and pace as she drove the sculls through the river, the muscles in her back as they worked against the resistance, her pert buttocks as they slid to-and-fro on the seat.

  Somewhere above, the clouds parted to reveal blue sky. Almost immediately, Erin’s field of vision grew wider. To the left, three boats inched further away as Erin and Gia pulled further in front. To the right – Oxford – neck and neck. They blocked Erin’s view of the three boats beyond. Their screams, through every pull of the oars were a threat. But that didn’t matter, Erin had to concentrate on herself.

  One hundred metres to go - Her arms and legs, her entire body was on fire as her cardiovascular system struggled to breakdown the impossibly high build-up of lactic acid that soon threatened to bring a stop to her moving another inch. Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more and had to collapse, they were inching in front, bit by bit as Oxford struggled to keep up.

  Fifty metres - She had to stop, she couldn’t go on, the lactic acid had reached her fingertips, her head; the aches and pains like nothing she’d ever experienced. She concentrated on Gia, who was still going, how was she doing this?

  Twenty metres – Her entire body shook, her legs had no more thrust left, she was spent. Only sheer adrenaline, that and
love for Gia pushed her on, just that tiny bit further. She looked right, Oxford were there, regaining the initiative.

  Ten metres – Erin screamed as she gave everything for the last two pulls.

  Flash – It was the photo finish timing system.

  Erin unclenched her grip from around the oars, feeling the pain as she tried to straighten her stiffened fingers. Gia collapsed backwards opening out her arms. Erin leaned forwards and embraced her; sweat on sweat, their chests heaved together as they battled for oxygen.

  When they sat up, they’d drifted to within feet of Oxford. The two black clad women looked to Erin and Gia and shrugged. “You put up one hell of a fight girls. Do you have any idea who won?”

  Nobody knew, but it was between Cambridge Downing and Oxford Wolfson; nobody debated that. They fixed their eyes to the big screen as the replay began, showing the last five metres in slow motion.

  “Oh wow, it’s close.” Gia said, standing and taking hold of Erin’s hand. “We did our best, babe, so whatever happens, I’m proud of us.”

  “I know, we couldn’t have done any more than that.”

  The screen paused where the Downing boat crossed the line a full two inches ahead of Wolfson.

  Elation.

  All Erin wanted to do was plant a smacker hard on Gia’s lips – Sod it – She held Gia’s face, pulled her close and kissed her. Judging by Gia’s bright eyed expression she wasn’t expecting it, but she didn’t draw back either. Erin pulled away, saw Gia’s big smile and then finally became aware of the spectator’s cheers. It was as though a switch had been pressed and her senses returned to their full working capabilities.

  This was what it meant to be alive.

  “Are we jumping in?” Gia grinned from beside her.

  “Of course.” Erin squeezed Gia’s hand.

  Then they leapt into the Cam.

  After watching Scruffy and Mikey’s victory in the male double sculls, Erin and Gia had departed for their respective student dwellings. The Fairbairns’ Ball was an hour away and Erin still had to get ready.