by DaNeo Duran
‘To an extent. Can we come back to that?’
‘Of course. Tell me about Cannes.’
Katherine explained she’d been surprised and flattered when invited aboard a catamaran.
‘I met the sweetest gay guys in a bar. They had ten days of holiday left and I spent every night with them sailing port to port and meeting loads of other people.’
‘I couldn’t fancy being cooped up with gay men.’
‘Not if you’re a straight man but for me it was great. I had friends for the first time in ten years.’
‘Did you tell them where you were from?’
‘I was honest with them but nobody else we met learned of my origins. It was a kind of joke. When we met other people they’d call me princess, like I was Daddy’s little rich girl. No one challenged it one way, or another.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ Calvin said. ‘What you’re telling me about Cumbria is harder to accept.’
‘They’re worlds apart. I’d never experienced such kind attention in Cumbria. By the time the catamaran crew’s holiday ended there were people wanting me to stay with them. I was fed and even had clothes bought for me.’
‘Hmm, seems too good to be true,’ Calvin said suspiciously.
Guessing the direction of his thoughts Katherine said, ‘I told you earlier romance is out of the question. Most of the kindnesses have come from women anyway.’
‘Okay, I’ll take your word for it.’ He gestured her to carry on.
‘I know it’s weird,’ she said wondering how to explain. ‘Okay. My mum is the most beautiful woman you could hope to meet. But you’d never know.’
‘That’s a shame. Why?’
‘She shrouds her beauty. She reckons it causes trouble.’
‘Really?’ Calvin shook his head.
‘You think that’s strange but until I arrived here I pretty much believed her.’
Katherine explained that since puberty girls had liked her less and less. They’d been jealous and protective of their boyfriends. ‘I’d get told off because my sisters’ boyfriends ignored them and pestered me.’
‘What about your boyfriends?’
‘Waste of time. They were insecure and would fight over me, then blame me.’
Calvin guffawed but Katherine knew he’d not really found her situation humorous.
‘So how come you’re in a state out here? Sounds like you’ve got it made.’
‘The problem is I’ve let these people think I’m someone I’m not. I’ve slept on so many yachts they’ve not noticed that I don’t have one myself. They probably think my folks’ll sail in one day aboard something massively impressive.’
‘It still seems odd nothing’s come up to give the game away.’
‘It’s because everyone knows someone else who knows me so I seem genuine.’
‘So, what d’you do when it’s someone’s birthday?’
‘I miss it or turn up late. There’re so many presents nobody knows I’ve not brought one. At least, that’s what I did but these people are proper friends now. I love these people.’
‘So you’ll have to buy presents you can’t afford.’
‘Now you’re getting it. And now Elaine’s getting married I’m super cornered. I can’t just turn up late; not this time. And the worst thing is she’s asked me to be bridesmaid. I can’t do it.’
‘I see why you picked me over shopping,’ Calvin said still without humour.
‘I can’t keep up with them.’
Not knowing what to think Calvin sipped his beer. He guessed Katherine’s unrecognisable accent must be Cumbrian. His mind went into solutions mode but came back with nothing. He said, ‘And yet somehow you’ve got a boat to yourself?’
‘Crazy I know. John’s in London on business. You’d probably get on he’s a nice guy.’
‘If he doesn’t mind me drinking his beer,’ he said lifting his bottle.
‘He’s too generous for that.’
Calvin had listened, and Katherine relaxed more than she’d done in weeks. In the breezeless heat the shore’s incidental voices and the resting sea both soothed and stirred new feelings towards her guest. She noted the way his arm rested on the back of the seat and thought if she stretched her arm their fingers would touch. Looking at his face they shared the kind of moment that makes hearts beat faster; something Katherine hadn’t experienced in ages.
As her obstinacy to keep things platonic subsided she asked, ‘Do you choose to be beautiful?’
‘Well, not so much to land the trouble you have, assuming your mother’s philosophy’s correct. But, you could do worse.’
Katherine giggled but fell silent wrangling with her demons before telling him if he saw himself through her eyes he’d know his beauty. Scarcely able to believe her mouth’s betrayal she swooned wondering how Calvin would handle the compliment that contradicted all she’d led him to understand about herself.
After a while he said, ‘If someone like you wanted me I wouldn’t know where to start.’
‘What do you mean?’
He thought for a moment. ‘Like Christmas morning. All those presents waiting to be opened. Which d’you open first?’
‘Each one a thrill.’
‘Every inch of you would be thrilling.’
Reaching towards Calvin’s right hand she said, ‘Maybe I’d help direct you.’
Calvin only stared.
Emotionally beyond the point of no return Katherine melted. As finger tips connected pleasure rippled throughout. Her eyes closed. Every cell enraptured in sensations she’d almost forgotten. When her eyes opened she knew she would be kissed.
Calvin whispered, ‘Are you sure?’
‘You didn’t sink the boat.’
Calvin didn’t need telling twice. They kissed. With hands all over each other he found Katherine’s body felt as good as she looked. Her dress vanished as quickly as the towel around his waist. As their spirits entwined their individualities lost relevance. In carnal heaven movement followed movement, position followed position until time lost relevance; minutes or years might have passed.
Gazing up at Katherine and beyond, the stars and eternity magnified and magnified again until finally Calvin exploded into, with and for her in perfectly blended harmony with her ecstatic hollering.
She collapsed on him. Her eyes refocused as did his.
‘My God,’ she said between kisses. ‘What a night. That was sensational.’
Through waves of bliss Calvin murmured, ‘Astonishing.’
He didn’t know she’d never felt so comfortable with a lover. When she told him she’d waited all her life for someone like him, Calvin fell in love.
Katherine knew she shouldn’t have said that as she came down from the stratosphere with the falling temperature of her skin. Her fingers resting against his cheekbone her thumb outlined his lips. She could have enjoyed the togetherness forever. Alas their cooling bodies and now thundering sound of a speeding cruiser bound for neighbouring Port Grimaud ended their reverie.
Looking out they saw the ship carving a titanic bow wave. Turning towards each other they kissed.
‘Ready for the wave?’ she said. Seconds later they held each other as John’s yacht pitched and yawed. Watching along the deck Calvin’s airing T-shirt flapped and …
‘Oh no!’ Katherine said.
‘What?’
‘Boot overboard.’
Grabbing his towel and running forward Calvin found only one remaining shoe. Looking over the rail he saw blackness instead of crystal waters. Stating the obvious he said, ‘It sank,’ as his mind swapped bliss for frustration.
Katherine searched the waves too. ‘We’ll look again when it’s light. There’s no tide so it shouldn’t move.’
Calvin knew diving in now would be pointless. When he turned and saw Katherine full length, naked and smiling he forgot about his lost shoe.
She led the way to the shower where they soaped, rinsed and caressed each other. For Katherine thoughts of contraception grew a
s they travelled from the back to the front of her mind. Washing one foot at a time Katherine hopped on the spot, like that would make a difference.
Trying not to worry she took Calvin to bed where they talked and cuddled until finally Calvin drifted into restful slumber.
Suspended between sleep and lucidity Katherine’s mind refused to quieten. Yes it had been good to share her problems but that didn’t solve them. Soon she’d have to look for a chapel and reception for Elaine’s wedding and that would mean a booking fee.
Her mind wandered back to the present. Visualising dates and pressing a hand to her stomach she realised how stupid she’d been with Calvin. Images of unwelcome sperm meeting gullible ova tortured her until a previously irrelevant memory blossomed. Turning to the sleeping babe beside her she kissed his cheek having recalled Loretta dating a pharmaceutical rep. After a condom had split during their passion he’d issued the very drug he’d been promoting. Because the new drug required promotion the rep donated a stash for Loretta to give to friends. Until now Katherine assumed she’d never need it. In the shower room she rifled through her wash bag and soon held the morning after pill and swigged it down with a silent prayer.
Friday 03rd June 1983
In the comfiest bed, Calvin woke with the rising sun knowing something amazing had happened. Images of the previous night materialised ousting sleep. He rolled over and seeing Katherine kissed her shoulder. The touch of her skin on his lips confirmed the reality. Rubbing his face he hoped she’d keep in touch after he returned to England.
Katherine woke knowing something terrible had happened. The realisation that her Saint Tropez bubble had most likely burst hooked her like Mohammed Ali. Turning over she saw Calvin smiling. She didn’t know why but the site of him enraged her. She turned her back and clenched her teeth. Her blood iced as he put his face next to hers and asked if she’d like breakfast.
‘Just a cup of tea,’ she said wishing he’d get the hell away.
In the galley Calvin prepared tea and toast. Katherine’s quiet aggression had struck his chest dragging his posture. Straightening, his brain scoured for answers.
‘I said just tea,’ she snapped ignoring the offered toast. Looking anywhere but him she told him to get dressed so she could motor him back.
Calvin’s ribs gripped tighter. Leaving the bedroom with the toast he’d hoped to share he glimpsed his anguish reflected in the shower room mirror. Nothing he tried could relax his twisted eyebrows. Giving up he sat alone dry mouthed forcing down the now sawdust-like toast.
Katherine appeared from the bedroom in yesterday’s summer frock. ‘You’re not dressed let’s go.’
‘Hang on a minute. Please?’
‘What for?’
‘Hang on alright.’ Anger flashed like a light switching on and back off. He headed towards deck rage now bubbling low down.
Dressing in dried shorts from the boat-rail he peered over the side and, in an anger confusing moment saw, through glassy sea, his shoe resting on the seabed. He climbed onto the yacht’s roof.
‘What are you doing?’ Katherine shrieked having followed him out.
Without responding Calvin dived, clearing the rail, into lush cooling water. Once engulfed, the chill dissolved his rage. Densely weighted he harpooned towards the sand. With boot retrieved he marvelled at the floating castle above him before kicking towards it.
Katherine despised the pain that superseded her every romantic experience. Watching Calvin dive like Tarzan made her feel like a miserable Jane. The sunshine couldn’t help the overwhelming raincloud within. Her true self fought reasoning that Calvin didn’t ask to stay the night, didn’t make the first physical gesture and hadn’t even been on top. That was you straddling him like Barry Sheene’s motorbike, she thought But she wanted him gone and yet pitying him she met him at the stern.
Surfacing, Calvin faced painted toes. Katherine’s hand offered assistance but her face showed only irritation. She gestured hurrying him up. With only his life to lose he threw his boot aboard and took her hand but yanked hard down. Above him Katherine toppled into an unceremonious dive and crashed into the water behind him.
Calvin swam making to climb aboard but Katherine grappled his neck and thumped at his shoulders. Turning round he tried to push her away but she wrapped her legs round him and pulled at his hair.
‘Stop it!’ he yelled. She stopped; then released him.
Calvin climbed aboard. ‘Are you going to be nice?’ he asked watching Katherine tread water dress billowing.
She nodded and swam towards the hand he now offered. She grabbed and tried to pull him as he’d done her. But, holding the rail he stood fast.
‘Are you going to be nice?’
Again she nodded taking his hand. ‘Okay, on three. One, two, three.’ He hauled and Katherine launched like a dolphin her feet touching down next to where he stood.
Her dress plastered every phenomenal curve. Agog Calvin stepped back as Katherine scooped up the towel and walked through the cockpit.
Calvin followed and snatched her arm spinning her into him like a Salsa dancer. Clutching a fist of hair he held her body against his feeling her panting.
His eyes penetrated hers licentiously. Immobilised but without distress her floundering lust showed signs of recovery fighting vainly but losing to unexplainable despair.
‘It’s no good,’ she said. ‘Let me go.’ Released she put her arms around him unable to feel how sorry she knew she must be. She found it in her to tell him she hoped he’d follow his heart when he got back to England. Stepping towards the cabin she paused and figuring what the hell, bent down and chucked his sopping boot back overboard.
Calvin dived, launching from the side of the cockpit almost catching the boot mid-air. He re-emerged boot in hand smiling. He’d seen hope glinting behind her belligerence.
Minutes later below deck he made his appeal, suggesting Katherine come back with him.
‘Why would I do that?’ Now wrapped in a bathrobe she scathed storming for the flybridge. ‘Didn’t you hear me last night? I hate England I never want to go back.’
Weighing anchor Katherine angrily motored for the marina, presuming Calvin to be sulking below deck.
Once berthed she destroyed Calvin’s last-ditch attempt to give his phone number to her. She watched the ruined handsome boy leave. He didn’t look back.
Running for the yacht’s master suite her raincloud burst. Tears flooded. Crawling into bed she surrendered to the despair and confusion.
* * *
Calvin trudged along the pontoon; every second step leaving squelching footprints. Given Katherine’s absolute desire never to see him again the glimmer of hope he’d sensed when holding her earlier harried him like an evil joke of fate.
Even at that early hour Saint Tropez smacked of wealth – the men all rich and confident. In finding the hired bicycle untouched he realised how absurd he’d been imagining he could offer enough to sway someone like Katherine from such a place.
Her extraordinary beauty and spirit consumed his dejected mind as he pedalled from wealth towards his own meagre future. All the women he’d known and been attracted to paled replaced by a new definition of femininity. His heart tore at having been rejected. He had been loved the previous night.
As the road stretched leading to certain confrontation with the bicycle hire man Calvin wondered whether he would recover from the pain of never seeing her again.
Sunday 12th June 1983
A week and a half after leaving Saint Tropez, Calvin’s wounded heart ached in ways he believed only Rock ‘n’ Roll could alleviate. Certain of passing his degree his folks had rewarded him with a Musicman Stingray; just the bass guitar for rock superstardom. He’d purchased the second-hand gem the moment he’d returned to Coventry and before telling either parent of his decision to follow his musical passion in London.
In Saint Tropez the bicycle hire man hadn’t been a problem. The only confrontational situations Calvin backed down from invo
lved his father who’d grind him down, not with fury or violent threats, but with stone-cold reasoning. He’d anticipated countering his dad’s arguments with nothing more than his desire to return to London. But, in a unique episode, Calvin’s dad had exploded into rage.
Following the shock his parents had reluctantly driven him to back to Chingford. Calvin should have guessed his dad wouldn’t be that easily beaten.
Believing Rock ‘n’ Roll an unworthy pursuit, a “hollow dream” as he put it, he lured Calvin and his reunited bandmate Danny to the high street café where, under the guise of a free breakfast he grilled both lads more fiercely than the sausages.
Danny found his character cross examined, as if he’d poisoned Calvin’s mind from his rightful vocational path. Belittled and humiliated he had cowered clutching thoughts of his guitar riffs that, with Calvin, he knew made for songs that could blow away the watery sounding synth-pop of the café’s radio. And, with the conviction of their songs’ worthiness, the lads survived interrogation; promising to commit twelve months to filling the “hollow dream” or drop it for good.
Despite the compromise the victory seemed perfect until it ran aground. Days washed by waiting for their drummer Brian to avail himself for rehearsal. When finally he agreed to meet he turned up late. In rehearsal Danny and Calvin despaired trying to groove to Brian’s sloppy drum playing. His soggy sounding drums and cymbals duller than the weekend’s weather added nothing to his performance.
But worse than his poor musicality, Brian had an aggressive nature.
Less inclined to suffer fools or bullies Calvin escaped the force of Brian’s impudence. Instead the drummer attacked Danny’s weak spots. With a mind redundant of comebacks, Danny stood at the mic crumbling; silently hating himself and Brian.
After rehearsal the lads returned to the flat and discussed what had happened.
When Amy joined them around the flat’s wobbly dining table she listened to the lads complain and ventured a suggestion. Her mischievous blue-grey eyes sparkled finally stirring Danny’s deflated mass. His puppy-dog eyes looked to Calvin.
Preferring not to see his friend so whipped Calvin faced Amy. ‘Maybe – it’s definitely a thought.’
Amy’s heart went out to her friends. She recognised Calvin’s agony more than Danny, who couldn’t believe Katherine could be the goddess Calvin had insisted. But Danny looked glummer than she’d ever seen. She couldn’t believe he allowed Brian to bully him the way he did.