Jonathan looked at her as if to double check she really was ok with it and she nodded slightly at him. He got up and walked past her, giving her hand a slight squeeze as he went.
Eleanor moved to take Jonathan’s place on the sofa, careful to keep a distance from Mark. She heard Mark sigh slightly, as if he’d noticed and disapproved of the distance between them.
Taking a deep breath, Mark dove in to what seemed to Eleanor to be a previously rehearsed speech.
“I’m so sorry about what happened, I never meant to make you feel rushed or uncomfortable. I certainly never intended you to feel pressured in anyway. I thought we were on the same page, clearly we weren’t. I really enjoy hanging out with you Eleanor, I don’t want to lose that. And I don’t want you to feel like you can’t come out with Jonathan when he meets up with all of us from school. I’d hate to feel like you’re avoiding us or that there’s an awkwardness between us. I’ll do anything to make it better. To make it right,” Mark finished, his voice full of contriteness and sincerity.
Now it was Eleanor’s turn to take a deep breath, she began to speak slowly, “Mark, I had a great time on our first day, and I’ve always enjoyed hanging out with you and the guys, you were some of my first friends here. It wasn’t entirely your fault that our last date went so wrong. But it just proved that you really don’t know me, if you did, you’d have known that restaurant was one of the worst places you could have taken me. A private dinner, in such an extravagant place was just too much, especially for what was essentially only a second date. Maybe other women would have been thrilled with such a date, but it just made me uncomfortable. If you knew me better you’d have known that. But that’s partly my fault. I’m still figuring out who I am since my last relationship ended. I’m just not ready to open myself up to another relationship like that. I need to figure out who I am now, and what I want.”
Mark suddenly looked hopeful, “I understand that now. And I can wait. I’ll give you time if that’s what you need,” he interjected.
“No,” Eleanor cut him off, taking control of the conversation back. There was a firmness in her voice, “I don’t want you to wait. I don’t want to sit here and give you false hope that it might work out for us down the road, because that would be dishonest. The fact of the matter is I’m not ready for a relationship. I don’t know when I will be ready for one. Right now I need to focus on my life and school and my writing and my friendships. After years of trailing around supporting my ex, I need to be a bit selfish and take care of myself. And I need you to understand and accept that.”
Mark frowned, “I won’t say I’m not disappointed, but I do understand. I hope we can still be friends?”
Eleanor smiled gently, at least he had come to terms with being friends, unlike his previous declaration. “I would like that.”
Mark smiled back and Eleanor hoped this could be the end of some of the awkwardness that had existed between them since their disastrous date.
“If you’ll excuse me though, it’s been a long day and I’m exhausted,” Eleanor said apologetically.
“Of course, I understand. I’m just glad we got to talk. I’ll leave you alone now. But hopefully I’ll see you at the pub with Jonathan soon.”
“I’ll try to find time to join you all, I promise.”
She walked Mark to the door and they said goodbye. Eleanor knew she wouldn’t feel up to seeing him for a little while, but maybe in a week or so she would accompany Jon to the pub like she used to.
* * * * *
The next day passed in a fog. Eleanor went through her classes, distracted the whole time. She couldn’t help but think about Mark, and Patrick. And because of thinking about them, she couldn’t help thinking about Michael and wondering what he was doing right then. She knew it was morning in Arizona, he’d probably be up making his coffee and getting ready for work, everything laid out the night before as always. She realized she had tears forming, quickly blinked, and tried to focus on what the professor was saying at the front of the classroom. Jack gave her a quizzical look, as if asking what was wrong, and she forced a smile and mouthed, “allergies” and rolled her eyes. He seemed to believe her.
By the end of the day she was exhausted. She and Jack spent some time writing in their favorite Starbucks in Paternoster Square, and then Eleanor went for a wander down by the river. She walked across the Millennium Bridge and then west along the South Bank. She sat on a bench outside the National Theatre. It was a cold day but the sun was out, though it was nearly to the horizon, and she watched it flicker through the branches of the tree above her, empty of all its leaves. There weren’t many people out, just some tourists rushing by. Eventually the cold got to her and she had to get moving again to warm up.
She walked up the stairs to street level of Waterloo Bridge, she loved this bridge. From here she could see east to the City and down to the Tower Bridge, to the west she could see the London Eye and Big Ben. As she walked, she could hear Big Ben chime the hour, it was four o’clock. In another few days, British Summer Time would end and it would be pitch black by now. She laughed at the thought, living in Arizona for so long she had forgotten what it was like to have to change the clocks and “fall back” an hour. Arizona was just about the only state that didn’t follow Daylight Savings Time. She crossed back to the north side of the Thames and then made her way back towards Holborn and the flat, stopping for a takeaway latte from Caffè Nero on Kingsway. Just as she was standing at the corner in front of the Sainsbury’s and across from Holborn Station, her phone rang and she saw Patrick’s name on her screen.
“Hello Eleanor, have I caught you at a good time?” Patrick’s warm voice came from the other end of the line.
Smiling in spite of herself, “Yes, I was just walking home.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it. I wasn’t sure what time you got out of school, but I’d hoped I’d be able to catch you.”
“Oh, class got out ages ago. I’ve just been writing and then wandering down along the river. Until I started to freeze,” she said laughing.
She heard Patrick laugh on the other end of the call, “Please don’t go and catch a cold, it’s bloody freezing out there today! I’m just calling to ask if you want to meet up sometime? Coffee, lunch, dinner, whatever you want.” As if sensing her hesitation, he quickly added, “Just as friends, I promise.”
“I know,” she said laughing slightly, “I was just trying to think about my schedule. I’m really only free in the evenings until the weekend.”
“Well, I know it’s late notice but I have some unexpected free time and I’m near Holborn. Otherwise I’m probably not free until the weekend, the rest of my evenings are already booked with meetings.”
“I guess I can do dinner tonight, I’m pretty tired though, can we meet somewhere between your place and mine?? I’m not sure I have the energy to trek across town.”
“You’re in luck. I actually just had a meeting in Bloomsbury. Whereabouts in Holborn are you?”
“Red Lion Square, where are you?”
“I’m at Russell Square. I know it’s early, and I’m not entirely sure what’s around here but I’m sure there’s something.”
“If you don’t mind meeting me near my flat, there’s a place around the corner called The Bountiful Cow, if you’re up for a burger or steak?”
“A burger sounds great, I’ll see you there soon?”
“Should be less than five minutes,” she said quickly, stepping into the crosswalk as the green man lit up on the walk sign. Saying goodbye, she pressed, “end call” on her phone and slipped it back in her pocket. She couldn’t help it, but she was actually feeling excited.
* * * * *
Picking up her pace, she made it to the restaurant in just under five minutes. Somehow Patrick had beat her there and was already seated in a corner booth in the back.
“I promise I didn’t ask for a romantic booth, just something tucked away from view of the entrance,” Patrick said, getting up to give El
eanor a quick hug and peck on both cheeks.
Laughing, “I understand. Just as well, I’m a bit disheveled today, not sure I’d want too much attention looking like this.”
“You look lovely, a bit rosy cheeked and windblown, but still lovely, as usual.”
Blushing, “Thank you, that’s sweet of you to say.”
They quickly ordered their dinner and fell into an easy conversation. Patrick told her he’d been in Bloomsbury to meet with his agent and manager and the projects they shared with him and she filled him in on her day at school and how distracted she’d felt. He was so easy to talk to she found herself telling him about Mark’s visit and thinking about Michael. Patrick just nodded with understanding and encouragement.
“You’ve been through a lot lately Eleanor. A lot of changes for sure, some good, others not so good. You’ve every right to be confused. But you’ll figure it all out eventually. And London is the perfect place to figure out what you want.”
“I hope so.”
“So was it just the MFA program that brought you to London or was there another reason?”
“Well, the program seemed like the perfect solution. My mom has been pushing me to figure out what I want to do with my life. She knew how much I love writing, I spent all my free time sitting in coffee shops back home writing on my laptop, iPad or scribbling ideas in a notebook. I never go anywhere without something to write on,” she said with a laugh.
Patrick raised his eyebrow and then glanced at her bag beside her.
Laughing at the look on his face, Eleanor reached into her bag and pulled out both her assortment of three notebooks and her iPad, clipped into its keyboard case.
“Three journals! What on earth do you need three separate notebooks for?”
“Well, this one,” she said defensively, indicating the bright green notebook with ‘Don’t Wait’ embossed on the cover, “is for my general tasks, notes, to do’s, lists et cetera. Then this one,” holding up the floral notebook she’d found at Ted Baker on one of her first shopping days in London, “is for random notes and observations since I’ve arrived in London. It’s not really a diary, I’m rubbish at keeping a daily journal, but it’s where I put all my personal thoughts and ideas. Finally, this one,” holding up a slim notebook with a map of London on the cover, “is where I keep all my continuity notes for the book I’m working on.”
“Continuity notes? And what book? I’ve never really asked you about what you write.”
“It’s just a novel, I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. I’m struggling with it right now. But the notebook is where I write down all the facts about the characters, timeline of when things happen, it’s just how I keep things straight. When I’m writing, it’s hard to keep going back up in the document to see what I’ve already written about characters, locations, plot twists, and such. By keeping it all in a notebook I can keep myself more organized as I write,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders.
“Have you ever thought about writing screenplays?” Patrick asked curiously.
“I’ve thought about it,” Eleanor replied hesitantly. “Not seriously, but I am a very visual writer. I tend to see everything as I write it and hear the dialogue between my characters. Although, as a writer I can also get into the head of the character, which I suppose is part of what you do as an actor,” she said smiling.
Patrick nodded, smiling back.
“I guess I always figured getting a novel published was nearly impossible enough, but living in Phoenix it just seemed completely outrageous to think that I could get a screenplay seen by the right people and have it actually get produced. But maybe, if I’m lucky, I can get a novel published and get it adapted to the screen. That’s the pipe dream anyway,” she said with a laugh.
“Hey, not quite so impossible you know,” Patrick said seriously.
“Oh? And how do you figure that?” she asked inquisitively.
“You seem to be forgetting that you are now friends with an almost major, international movie star,” he proclaimed with fake self-importance.
Eleanor couldn’t help but laugh at the silly look of pretend arrogance on Patrick’s face. And Patrick broke into laughter as well.
His face turning a bit more serious, he said, “But for real, as your friend, I am happy to help you meet agents or get your work seen by the right people. Is there any character in that novel that I could play?” he said winking at Eleanor.
Laughing lightly, “Maybe. Seriously, though, that’s sweet of you to offer. The program offers a lot of assistance with finding agents and getting our work seen. I wouldn’t want to take advantage of our friendship. But I’ll keep it in mind.”
“It wouldn’t be taking advantage. In this industry...films, TV shows, books, music...you have to make connections. I’m a connection for you now. So if I can help at some point, I hope you’ll let me.”
“I promise I’ll keep that in mind. But I kind of need to have a finished product first.”
“Better get writing then,” he said smiling.
They got quiet again as they looked at the dessert menu. Eleanor couldn’t help but notice, as she had in Oxford, how easy it was to not only talk to Patrick but also to sit in silence with him. They weren’t uncomfortable silences, far from it. She felt something shift slightly in the back of her brain, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if this was a date with Patrick. She definitely liked him and it felt easy and natural to be with him. However, as quickly as the thought occurred to her she dismissed it. She knew she wasn’t ready, or strong, enough to think about dating again, especially not with someone like Patrick Reynolds. But she had to admit it felt nice being out with him, she felt safe, and comfortable, and she wasn’t constantly second guessing herself or waiting for the other shoe to drop as it felt with Michael, and even with Mark in their couple of dates. With Patrick, she felt like she could just be herself. Well, isn’t that the point of being friends with someone? she thought, frustrated with herself for trying to complicate things.
Once they finished their drinks and desserts Patrick offered to walk her home. She was freezing in the cold, and Patrick kept close to her side, as if to try to warm her up without actually putting an arm around her. She had to fight away her brain’s wish that he would.
The pub was literally around the corner so they made it to the front of Eleanor’s building in less than a minute. Patrick didn’t say anything and she didn’t question it when he followed her through the front door downstairs and up the stairs to her floor. He walked her to the door of her flat and as she turned to say goodbye she saw a flicker of something in his eyes. She knew, though she couldn’t explain how, that in that moment he wanted to kiss her, and in that moment she wanted him to or thought she did. In that moment of her hesitation, he took a quick breath and was giving her the same casual, friendly smile he always had when she saw him.
“I had a great time tonight, thanks for joining me for dinner,” he said easily.
“Thanks for calling, it would have been ready-to-eat spag bol from Waitrose and Graham Norton on the TV if you hadn’t called when you did,” she replied, half jokingly.
“What an exciting and decadent life you lead Miss Gordon,” Patrick replied with a laugh.
“Don’t you know it. You think you’re the one with the fabulous life Mr. Almost Major International Movie Star, but my life is way more fabulous.” She said with a laugh.
“You’ll get no arguments from me there. Maybe you’ll let me join you some night. I love Graham Norton,” he said, and Eleanor noticed there was a seriousness in his expression.
“You’re more than welcome, any time. All my friends are welcome over for dinner and the BBC. Though, it wouldn’t be a ready-to-eat meal from the shop, I’d make spag bol from scratch,” she said with a smile.
“Well, if that’s the case, how about this weekend?”
“I think that should work, call me?”
“Deal,” he said, smiling. “I’ll double check m
y schedule and call you in the next day or so. I’m pretty swamped the next couple days with meetings, but we’ll sort it out and confirm something soon, I promise.”
“Great,” she replied. “And...thanks. Not just for dinner, but, well, for everything. For helping me out yesterday in the rain, for listening, for being a friend.”
“You never have to thank me for being kind or being a friend to you Eleanor. I promise you can trust me. You’ve been honest about not being ready for a relationship and I understand and respect that. So if a friendship is what you can handle right now, then I’ll be here, as your friend. But when you decide you know who you are now and what you want, I’ll be there fighting for my chance.”
Before she could respond, he leaned down and brushed a strand of hair from her face and kissed her lightly on her cheek, then he quickly turned on his heel and walked away and down the stairs. She walked in to the flat in a daze and walked to the window in her room, she watched as he walked out the building door downstairs and back out to the square. As she watched him go, she found herself hoping, desperately, that he was telling the truth, and that he would still be there waiting for her when she was ready.
Chapter 13
The next morning Eleanor woke up late, her sleep had been interrupted by thoughts of Patrick, and Mark, and Michael. And what a confusing mess everything had become. She dashed around the flat, frantically getting ready. She pulled on her skinny jeans, a thick ivory sweater, and her tall brown boots. Thankfully her bag was still packed from the night before since she’d taken everything to the restaurant with her, so she threw on her coat, grabbed the bag, and raced out of the flat. Her phone dinged and as she was rushing down the road she whipped it out of her coat pocket and glanced at the screen. It was from Jack.
Have time to stop at Caffè Nero. Want owt? Xx
Eleanor was still getting used to Jack’s Yorkshire slang, especially over text, but she got the gist of the offer and appreciated him asking if she wanted anything. Breathing a sigh of relief, she quickly tapped her reply on the screen.
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