by A B Turner
“I’ve waited my whole life to feel something...of all the people in the world, why did it have to be you ?”
When Vanessa said nothing, I turned to look at her, she suddenly seemed so lost somehow, so I released the handle and reluctantly sat down next to her.
“I’m so sorry...I should never have....” she began, her voice trembled, she glanced up at me, as if she might find the right words written on my face, but they were not there because I had no idea what to do or say, so I did the only thing left that made some kind of sense, and offered her some wine.
When she nodded, I carefully shared the remainder of the wine between our two glasses , offered her one, which she took gratefully. For several minutes, we sat in silence, both needing some calm after the storm, she carefully placed her glass down on the table, then keeping her eyes looking firmly downward, she spoke,
“What you said before, maybe you’re right...maybe I never stay still because, I don’t know...perhaps I think if people really saw me....they....well...they wouldn’t like what they saw,” she paused, “ You know, it's always harder to hit a moving target. ”
I motioned to speak, but without looking up, she raised her hand slightly, so I said nothing,
“But then, every so often someone like you comes along and despite everything .. I mean I crashed uninvited into your life, fucked you up completely and yet...you’re here,” she paused, looked up at me, “...telling me you love me, and what do I do ? I say fucking horrible things to you...” she shook her head slightly, “Maybe all that stuff they write about me is true after all.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” I paused, “After all, you do have this obnoxious reputation to maintain....” unable to prevent a slight smile crossing my mouth. She glanced up at me,
“True, if I started behaving properly, my whole public persona could be irretrievably damaged ,” she smiled back, but then , almost instantly her expression changed,
“What I said before must have hurt like hell,” she said quietly, “I am so sorry, I wish I could go back....give you something better to take away...”
I looked at her, part of me wanted to still be angry, but it was dwarfed by how much she had come to mean,
“You’ve already given me everything that matters,” I replied simply, offered up my glass as a silent toast, we clinked glasses and simply enjoyed the last of the wine.
“I have to go, it’s nearly morning,” I said sadly, I wandered over to the window and peered through the curtains, as I scanned the view, my eyes settled on a figure, far below, resting on the wall and a cold chill suddenly overcame the warmth of the wine, I gasped, it was the pudgy photographer .
“What’s wrong ?” Vanessa asked, coming over to the window, I pointed him to him and explained about how I had bumped into him after that first night, his comments outside the hotel,
“If he sees me here...he’s going to know we’ve met, at the very least,” I finished, feeling both concerned and very responsible. Vanessa carefully closed the curtains and told me not to worry, she would call Marcella and she would take care of everything, I apologised for being so careless, but she shook her head and assured me, this kind of intrusion was nothing new and despite everyone’s best efforts, some press were like a dog with a bone, when they sniffed a possible story.
“It’s so fucking unfair we might never get to see each other again,” Vanessa paused, “But I guess there’s probably only so many times you can sneak into a hotel without getting caught, do you think ?”
I knew she was trying to make this easier, but I was still struggling to keep my emotions in some kind of check, so I shrugged and breathed deeply, as if that would be enough to force every uncried tear back down somewhere, she walked over to the desk to call Marcella. Their conversation was brief, but it was obvious not one they had not had before, when she hung up, she looked back at me,
“Marcella will be here soon, just do as she says and it will be fine.”
I collected up my belongings and arm-in-arm, we walked to the door, after another quick hug, she kissed my cheek,
“You take care, alright ?”
“You too.”
I opened the door, still holding her hand, desperately reluctant to finally let go, but it was time, I turned to face her,
“Before I met you I was so lost and maybe, in some way, I still am, but now, at least I know where I need to go....”
Vanessa smiled, but as I turned to leave, I felt her hand on my sleeve, I spun round,
“There’s something you should know....”she hesitated, looking uncharacteristically nervous, I was about to speak but quickly realized I needed to be quiet, as whatever this was, I had to be patient. She shook her head slightly,
"Jesus, what is wrong with me ? I've said this a hundred times in movies and now..." She glanced up at me, perhaps hoping I would just know what was proving so hard to say, she touched my cheek, her fingertips barely grazing my skin,
" Fuck, you really do have beautiful eyes," she said quietly, " I don't know, there's just something about you, a kind of innocence..."
I resisted the temptation to answer, to make some crack,in truth, I wasn't able to speak as I felt like I was holding my breath.
" I haven't met anyone like you in such a long time, " Vanessa continued, almost as if she was talking to herself, " someone who can say those words and I really believe them."
Our eyes met and I smiled, I opened my mouth to say something, but she put her finger across my lips to silence me,
"I need you to know, in case we don't get to meet again, I love you too."
These last words were almost too much, so with the feeble dam holding the tears rapidly crumbling, we said one more goodbye and then I headed quickly down the passageway towards the elevator, where Marcella was waiting impassively. She glanced at me, pressed the call button, clearly hoping I would somehow pull myself together without her having to intervene. I scrabbled in my handbag for a tissue, wiped my face, took several deep breaths, and managed to achieve some kind of control by the time the lift arrived.
“Are you ready ?” she asked, indicating for me to step inside, I nodded, resisting the urge to look back towards Vanessa's door. Once safely in the lift, Marcella outlined her instructions with military precision without pause and I listened intently, once she had finished, she leant forward and pressed the stop button, just before we were due to reach the ground floor, she turned to me,
“Ms Sullivan, I owe you an apology, I don’t usually make mistakes, but I clearly misjudged you and, I wanted to take this opportunity to admit my error.”
I felt tremendous admiration for her, as I knew how difficult it must have been to say those words, so I extended my hand,
“There’s nothing to forgive, you had no way of knowing what kind of person I was, you were just doing your job,” I replied, and she shook my hand warmly. Before she reached for the button, I asked if I could ask her a question, as, there was no doubt in my mind, she would answer honestly, she nodded her agreement,
“Do you think I will ever see Vanessa again ? ”
For a moment, her face seemed to soften as she looked at me,
“Ms Sullivan....Carrie, you have proved your feelings for her are totally genuine, so it seems to me extremely unlikely they will cease as soon as you step out of this elevator, don’t you ?”
“Well, yes,” I replied hesitantly.
“Then, as those are clearly reciprocated by Vanessa, after all, she doesn’t make a habit of dressing as a chambermaid,” she paused and looked at me knowingly, then continued, “..it is logical to assume those very emotions may well bring you together again, and, in my experience, undoubtedly when you least expect it,” she looked at me, obviously waiting for my agreement, when I nodded, she pressed the button and the lift started to move once more.
As the doors opened, a smartly-dressed young man greeted Marcella formally,
“Is everything taken care of ?” she enquired, her tone reverting
to ultimate efficiency.
“As per your instructions,” he replied.
“Albert will escort you to another exit, where a taxi is waiting to take you back to your hotel, may I suggest you then leave London as swiftly as possible, to avoid any....”
“I understand,” I interrupted.
As I started to follow Albert, Marcella took my hand once more, as if to shake it again, but she pulled me close to her,
“Take care of yourself, my dear,” she whispered into my ear, then stepped back, “Well, off you go, Ms Sullivan...Albert is waiting.”
I smiled, turned away and walked across the opulent lobby.
Chapter 17
Within minutes, I was in the taxi, as it sped past the front of the hotel, I saw ‘Pudgy’, still resting on the wall, even though it was unlikely he would see me, I found myself ducking slightly as we passed him, I wondered what it was he thought he would discover, that kept him waiting there, so undoubtedly sure, if he was successful, he would make a fortune. It was easier to think about him, as the rest of my mind was a mass of confusion, as I tried to make some sense of what had happened, but I knew I had to put it all to one side, so I hurriedly packed and left the hotel for the station. Strangely, as I rushed through the bustling hordes of commuters to reach my platform, I kept being almost convinced I caught a glimpse of the photographer amongst the sea of faces. It was not until I was safely on the train hurtling out of London, I found it possible to relax slightly and just be happy to stare out of the window.
It was late in the afternoon, by the time I reached home, when Lainie opened the door, it was obvious from her worried expression, I looked pretty awful, but after hasty explanation about having a terrible hangover, she appeared to be less concerned, but during the evening, I noticed she made no direct enquiries about my trip, perhaps she knew somehow, I was unable to talk. However, when we finally said goodnight, she hugged me slightly tighter than usual as she told me she loved me.
After a fitful sleep, in the morning, I assured her again I felt much better and, although I knew she was still unconvinced, thankfully, she chose not to pursue the subject. Later at work, for the first time, I was almost grateful Kat was not there ,as I knew from experience, she would have asked the very questions I wanted to avoid. At lunchtime, I wandered outside, hoping to find a quiet place, as I was still in no mood to go back into the canteen. As I settled on the furthest bench from the door, Daniel appeared at the door, he looked hesitantly at me for a moment, before walking over,
“Can I join you ? Or would you rather be alone ?” he asked tentatively.
“Of course, as long as you’re not hoping for sparkling wit and conversation,” I replied, shifting along to make room for him. He settled, carefully opened a small lunch box, before offering me a delicious-looking sandwich, I began to decline, but he ignored me and gave me half anyway. For a few moments, we sat there, just enjoying sharing the food and the warm weather, once finished, Daniel spoke first,
“Look, why don’t you come over to mine for dinner ? It would be great for me to cook something other than chips for once.”
Almost before I had a chance to think, he interrupted and insisted I would be doing him a massive favour, after all, he was a trained chef and would love to show off, he looked at me expectantly but with a distinct mischievous twinkle in his eye.
“You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you ?” I smiled, with a hint of resignation.
“No, so I would accept graciously, if I were you,” he replied firmly, “You look like you could do with cheering up and I want to set fire something ...” on seeing my rather anxious expression, he laughed, “I meant food.”
He gave me the address and after extracting a promise I would definitely be there at 8.00, he went back to the canteen and I returned to work. Before I left for Daniel’s house,I called Kat, to tell her of his dinner invitation, when I had finished, I waited for her thoughts,
“Sounds like a good idea, just dinner though ?” she checked cautiously.
“Of course,” I replied.
“Yeah, well, just make sure you get a cab home before the sun comes up tomorrow, no staying over...” when I laughed at her almost-maternal tone, she swiftly interrupted,
“I’m serious, alright I know Dan isn’t exactly a stranger, but you did promise to be more careful.”
As I loved her for her concern, I agreed to be sensible, just enjoy the meal and then leave grateful but still clothed, this last attempt at humour, met with a decidedly frosty reception, but we ended with my promising to call her the following day.As I headed out, it struck me how you can talk to someone almost every day, share all manner of experiences and yet this was the first time I had ever been to his home. Almost as I arrived at the front door, it opened and there was Daniel, beaming, he had obviously been watching from the window, which I found really endearing,
“You made it,” he said brightly, then ushered me into the house, as he took my coat, I could not fail to notice the delicious smell emanating from the kitchen.
“Come through, I’m almost ready,” he continued, leading me through a small hallway into a large, airy open plan kitchen. Having planted me at a gleaming breakfast bar, and poured me a huge glass of wine, he retreated to the other side and darted from one bubbling saucepan to the next, while intermittently checking the oven. As I watched him bring all the elements of our meal together, we talked and laughed about anything and everything, while every so often, he would start singing along with the Sinatra CD playing somewhere in the background.
While he was distracted, I glanced around the room, the kitchen was at one end of a huge room, nicely furnished, with two enormous comfortable-looking sofas placed in front of an ornate fireplace. The walls were decorated with a heady combination of prints, photographs and paintings, which were so haphazard in style and size, it should not have worked, but somehow, it did. While stirring a small saucepan, Daniel obviously noticed my interest,
“Do you like art ?” he asked.
“Oh yes, I don’t really know much about it..the photographs, did you take them ?”
“Yes, it’s the cheapest way to bring something back,” he laughed, “But, I do have a bit of a ritual, wherever I go, I always try to find the tackiest souvenir, you see him ?” he pointed to a small wooden figure with an abnormally large phallus, I nodded,
“He came from Mombassa, as soon as I saw him, he reminded me of me !”I laughed, then an insistent timer pinged drawing Daniel’s focus temporarily back to the cooker, but after a few moments, he was back in control and pointed out other pieces dotted around the room, each coming with a hilarious if slightly-debatable story attached.
Finally, he pointed me towards a beautifully-laid table,
“If you take the wine, I’ll bring everything through, OK ?” he asked.
Dutifully, I sat at one end , and looked on with boundless admiration, as countless bowls and plates appeared before me, each one piled high,
“Are you expecting other people ?” I asked, pointing at the wealth of food between us, Daniel shook his head, after placing the last dish down, he surveyed his handiwork,
“I may have done slightly too much,” he admitted, then started carefully arranging various ingredients on my plate with all the skill of an artist, which when satisfied, he passed across to me. Even though I was unfamiliar with some of the vegetables, as soon as I ate the first mouth-watering mouthful, I ceased to care and just enjoyed the feast.
After dinner, he led me into the living-room and we slumped on to the sofa,
“I may well never eat again,” I gasped, “In fact, I’m not sure I’m ever going to move again.”
Daniel smiled broadly,
“I’m so glad everything was OK for you.”
“OK ? Are you serious ? That meal was.....well...extraordinary, is the only word,” I assured him, he settled back, visibly relieved, as we continued talking, I started to appreciate just how easy the whole evening had been. He was grea
t company, attentive without being too clingy, genuinely interesting and incredibly witty, as time wore on, I started to wonder how I had managed not to really notice any of these qualities before. In the past, I had often thought he was attractive, but in his own home, where he was obviously more comfortable, his personality was showing through and I found that very appealing.
As we sat talking, I found myself noticing just small things about him, how he fidgeted with a small ring on his finger when he thought, how he pushed his hand through his thick hair, when he was not sure of an answer and how he made me feel like I was the most interesting person he had ever met. I knew what I was starting to feel was potentially a terrible idea, thankfully, despite the wine, Kat's cautionary words managed to make themselves known ,so I reluctantly suggested it may be time for me to call a cab, Daniel grimaced,
“Do you have to go already ?” he glanced up at the clock, ”It’s only 1.00 in the morning, there are people out there clubbing..”
“Yes, but those people are a lot younger than me and don’t have work in the morning,” I smiled back, he paused for a moment,
“But we haven’t exhausted all the possibilities of the evening yet,” he smiled, “Surely you wouldn’t want to leave without having the full experience.”
“Well, I don’t know.....” I hesitated, trying not to show how exciting I found this suggestion.
“But I had so many ideas for the after dinner entertainment” he continued, grinning mischievously, he went on to list several board games, feigning interest in all of them. In the end, I held my hand up and confessed I really was not very good at any of them, so did he have any other suggestions. He paused thoughtfully,
“So I can assume Scrabble is off as well then ?”
I nodded slowly, he sighed heavily, he described how difficult this situation now had become, after all, he was sure he did not want me to leave, but he had no idea how to entertain me , as his back-up plan of playing games seemed to be a non-starter, when he had finished, he turned to me and with apparent innocence, asked if I had any suggestions.