Hamish and Kate Page 5

  Euan remembered a languid day, before she left but after she had told him of her impending departure. Clare and Euan were alone at the beach. It was warm and there was no breeze. Clare wore a long, white dress that flowed as she walked. Clare was Ariadne, sad and deserted on a beach of sparse, leaning trees. In the picture there was a ship abandoning her but in Euan’s mind there was only the Pacific Ocean, over which she would disappear forever. He was angry at the picture, that anyone could deliberately leave a woman like Clare. He confused the painting and memory. Euan shared the artist’s perspective, as he lay on the sand and watched her as she roamed above the high tide mark and through the sparse trees. She came close to him and he reached out and held her leg. She could have broken away easily if she wished but she laughed and gazed down at Euan like he was a disciple.

  ‘What?’ she asked after he had remained silent.

  Euan looked through her dress to the outline of the leg he had captured.

  ‘What?’ she asked again.

  ‘We’ve never had sex outside.’

  ‘Is that what you’re thinking?’ She laughed.

  There was no coercion, Euan would have been happy whatever her choice. He was glad to be alone with her, knowing she was leaving.

  She crouched down and said quietly, ‘I’m not going to lie on the sand.’

  ‘We could use my shirt,’ he said.

  She thought for a moment. ‘All right then.’ She kissed him on the forehead. ‘Where? We have to be hidden, in case someone comes along.’

  Euan kissed her softly, on the end of her nose. They found a place between two sand dunes and she waited until Euan had taken off his shirt and placed it on the sand. Euan ran his hands up her legs and began to take her dress off. She stopped him.

  ‘No, leave that on,’ she said. ‘In case someone comes.’

  Clare lay down carefully on the shirt after hitching up her dress. Euan undid the top of her dress and pulled it down below her breasts. They had simple missionary sex and made no movements that shifted Clare off Euan’s shirt. Euan’s arms shook when he rolled off and lay facing her, they had taken all his weight while he was inside her. She carefully rolled onto her side, not moving off the shirt. Her head rested on her outstretched arm. At that moment, with her dress above her waist and below her breasts she did not care about discovery.

  The second painting was of a languid, satisfied woman lying on her side with breasts exposed. She was in love with the artist, and sexually satisfied, as Euan thought Clare had been that day at the beach.

  Chapter 14

  ‘The healer of all ills,’ Michael said. He had appeared at Euan’s front door holding a copy of Bach’s Lute Suites in notation. ‘Kate said you were probably having a rough time and could do with some distraction.’ He pushed passed Euan, not allowing Euan time to refuse entry.

  ‘Kate sent you?’ Euan asked as he followed Michael the few steps into his one roomed home.

  ‘She seems to like you,’ Michael said.

  Michael sat on Euan’s bed and drew the bedside table nearer and opened the book of music.

  ‘I thought we could have some fun with these, if you’re up to it?’

  Euan didn’t know if Michael meant his technical skills or his sorrow over Clare’s loss.

  ‘I’ve played them a bit, over the years,’ Euan said.

  Michael hesitated. He had meant Clare and wondered if he had offended Euan. He searched the room. ‘Have you got stands?’

  ‘Are you OK with the Preludes?’ Michael said as Euan fetched a music stand.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I reckon it would be fun if we alternated, instead of just playing in unison. Do you think? We could play a few bars each and then swap.’

  Euan hesitantly agreed, he was distracted as he tried to decipher Kate’s concern.

  ‘Well, get your guitar then,’ Michael ordered.

  Michael was the better player, he was more dextrous in the difficult passages but Euan was surprised at his own skill, he as not much behind Michael. When Euan had played the difficult pieces on his own he worried at his lack of mistakes as the piece progressed. The weight of stress, at his expectation of immanent failure, would grow and then overpower him. He would halt after a horrible note. When he played with Michael, they shared the responsibility for mistakes and Euan did not worry about making them. Consequently, he made few mistakes and after repeating a piece of music, he made none. With their four hands and two guitars, they were a single Julian Bream or a John Williams.

  Euan was surprised, he and Michael were good.

  ‘Kate said she didn’t think this had happened to you before,’ Michael said. They were pausing between pieces, their guitars resting across their bodies.

  ‘No, not like this.’

  ‘Well,’ Michael said. ‘You think each one is different, and in some respects they are, but they aren’t really. They usually follow one of two templates. Boy gets girl back but it’s never the same, or boy never gets girl back.’

  ‘That’s reassuring,’ Euan said.

  ‘Let’s do another one,’ Michael said as he turned pages of music.

  They dreamed up musical games to challenge each other with increasing difficulty, as they worked to complete the E minor Suite. For the first three pieces each player would call out how many bars they would play, as they took over from the other. There was no time to think and often after a strange choice of duration a player would be left hanging with tied notes or in the middle of a run. They completed for slowness and exaggerated feeling during the Sarabande as each of them held notes longer and longer until the end was like waiting for a glacier to move. They shared the Bouree, one played the melody while the other played the bass line. They raced the Gigue as they randomly took over playing from their partner like they were playing leap-frog. They raced the final two bars in unison and collapsed in mock fatigue and laughter after the triumphant E minor finish.

  ‘I’ve never played music like this,’ Michael said. ‘Sometimes, in the band, it can feel almost as good, when we are writing new material but, it’s not like we just did. I mean, I’m not complaining, in their own way the other guys are good musicians but, well, how can you compare playing music like this?’

  ‘I’m not that good really,’ Euan said diffidently.

  ‘Don’t be a dick-head, Euan,’ Michael said quickly. ‘Just take the compliment. There’ll always be better players but there are many worse ones, otherwise we could not have done what we’ve just done. I enjoyed it. Did you enjoy it?’

  Euan agreed that he had.

  ‘So, one hundred percent audience satisfaction. You can’t get better than that, although you can get bigger audiences, of course.’ Michael didn’t laugh or smile but Euan knew he was joking.

  ‘Well,’ Euan agreed diffidently. ‘It was awesome, wasn’t it.’

  ‘No,’ Michael said fiercely. ‘We were awesome. Bach’s always been awesome, he can take care of himself.’

  Michael stood up and put his guitar in its case. ‘Sorry, I have to go. I should have already gone, actually.’

  Michael walked to the front door and opened it. Euan remained sitting with his guitar across his lap. ‘Try and write some new music. Now, in my experience, is the best time for that, with, you know, everything,’ he said. ‘We’ll have to do this again.’

  After Michael had shut the door behind himself, Euan began playing his guitar and thinking of Clare, unaware of what he was playing like the automatic reflex that is breathing. A phrase containing three different notes brought Euan back to the present, as if waking him. The phrase was beautiful and he tried to bring his attention to it so that he could repeat it. After some failures that were close and almost erased his memory of the original, he succeeded. It needed another phrase for it to be resolved and he tried many until he had found the one that worked. He played the two phrases together and they were perfect. He laughed out loud like a child with a new friend.

  He wanted more. He worked on variati
ons but the original melody kept exerting its influence. He decided the new piece of music had to be a rondo. He tried many musical ideas until somehow he knew they were correct and complete. He never knew how close each idea was to completion until it was done. He had to remain patient and let the music create itself through him. As Euan played softly on a single classical guitar he heard arrangements of multiple instruments as the overtones from his guitar added harmonies.

  The outside light faded but he didn’t move. He felt that getting up to turn on the light would break the spell just as rolling over to avoid the morning light in his eyes ruined his dreams. Late at night, he resolved one note that needed to be flattened and something altered in his brain, telling him that his piece of music was finished. He turned on the light and wrote it down. He stared at the physical representation of his music and loved it, it was balanced and regular like beautiful facial features. He slept late the next morning and woke to a raging hunger. He had forgotten to eat the night before.

  He eagerly got out of bed, like a child on Christmas morning, and looked over his composition. He played it. It was still beautiful in the stark, sad time after sleep. He thought it would last forever. It was Clare’s music. Euan gave it a name.

  He called it Clare’s song.

  Chapter 15

  Euan worked on his plan, for want of a better term, to regain Clare. It entailed a lot of time walking, with purpose, around the University although he stayed away from the immediate vicinity of the geology department. He hoped to meet Clare by being constantly outside but giving the appearance of normality. He did not want to alert Clare that he was searching for her. He hoped for a casual meeting and a few words. Then, he could start the waiting process he relied on.

  Euan found Clare, eventually, after days of activity, queueing for coffee in the cafeteria. He joined the queue behind her.

  ‘Hello. Stranger,’ Euan said. He tried to sound both concerned and uninvolved and almost succeeded.

  Clare turned to look at him. ‘Oh, Hi. How are you?’ she said.

  Euan was buoyed. She had asked a question. She hadn’t ignored him nor been angry and dismissive.

  ‘Good, good. Busy,’ he said. ‘Well, OK anyway. There have been some adjustments over the last weeks, as you can imagine.’ He introduced that he was upset, as anyone would be, but not that he was too worried. Not anymore.

  ‘Yes. I’m sorry. It must have been hard.’

  Euan noticed the past tense. He was angry that she thought he had forgotten her so quickly, however it was the response he had been hoping for.

  Before Euan could think of a reply, a gruff serving lady asked Clare for her order.

  ‘Just a take away coffee please,’ Clare said.

  As the serving lady turned away, Euan quickly added, ‘Could you make that two please?’ He thought that if their coffees were served singly then Clare would have left while he was waiting for his. The serving lady glared but said nothing.

  ‘But I’m sure I’ll survive,’ Euan said to Clare, continuing their conversation. ‘I’m possibly not the first person that has happened to.’ He smiled without humour.

  The lady placed two cups on the counter. ‘Pay over there,’ she said tartly as if Euan and Clare were undergraduates and didn’t know the procedure.

  ‘Thank you,’ Clare said to the lady. Euan followed her closely. ‘I’m glad you feel that way,’ Clare said. After she had paid she watched Euan as he paid. ‘You seem better than I expected,’ she said.

  Euan thought he heard disappointment in her voice. It was important that he ended their conversation while setting up a future meeting. He could not continue to roam the University waiting for chance discoveries of Clare.

  ‘Well, I will miss you. I did have fun,’ he said. He lowered his voice as if in a conspiracy. ‘I was in love with you, a bit.’

  Clare was about to reply but Euan did not let her.

  ‘I’m really sorry but I’m already late for something,’ he said. He wasn’t, he had nothing to do other than be with Clare. ‘You wouldn’t think it a little strange would you, but I’d really like to hear about your trip home? With pictures?’ He gave a little, forced laugh. ‘I don’t want any information about Hawaii ‘though.’ Euan smiled.

  ‘No, possibly not,’ she said.

  ‘I’m really busy for the next few days,’ he said. He wasn’t. ‘Would you mind if I called you after that? Maybe we could go to that cafe and you could show me some of your pictures? I would like to know what you were doing at home. No pressure, I promise.’

  ‘I think I’d like that,’ she said after a small hesitation.

  Euan had to concentrate to not break into a large and inappropriate smile. He gently touched Clare on her upper arm. ‘Great. I’ll call you in a few days. Bye.’ He turned and walked across the cafeteria without looking back. He pushed open one of the double doors that led outside, in the direction of the Physics department, and quickly glanced over his shoulder. Clare had just turned to walk in the opposite direction. She must have stared at him as he walked away. Perhaps it was the seed of doubt he had been hoping for, or that she was relieved that Euan had gone and had not caused her public embarrassment.

  He walked most of the way to the Physics department until he collapsed on a grassed area. He was shaking. He tipped his coffee onto the ground. He would have thrown up if he had tried to drink it. He despaired that only a few minutes with Clare had reduced him to a wreck. He did not know how he could hold himself together for a longer meeting. His plan was too difficult. He lay down on the grass with an arm over his eyes.

  A figure stood over him, blocking out the sun. Euan did not respond as the person watched him, making sure Euan was breathing.

  ‘Are you all right?’ It was Liam.

  ‘Fine,’ Euan said but did not move.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Resting.’

  ‘Resting from what?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘OK, then.’ Liam walked off in the direction away from the Physics department.

  Euan stayed where he was. He had nowhere else and laying on the grass was the extent of his future.

  Liam returned much later and stopped momentarily. ‘Still resting?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good.’ Liam left and entered the Physics department’s building.

  Euan couldn’t stay there forever although there was nothing else in his life. He should get up, he had almost decided, at least before faculty members saw him and he became a spectacle.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Euan recognised Kate’s angry voice. He sat up immediately.

  He lied. ‘I had to give a talk to the faculty. I was a bit stressed afterwards.’

  She stared at him, judging him. ‘That can be draining, can’t it,’ she said, believing his explanation. ‘However, there are better ways to relax than passing out like a drunk on the grass. Clare said you were in a hurry to get away.’

  Clare had spoken to Kate and Kate must have come looking for him.

  ‘Do you tell each other everything?’ Euan asked.

  Kate waited a long time before she answered. ‘No, not everything,’ she said. ‘You’re not going to hurt her are you?’

  ‘I think you’ve got it around the wrong way,’ Euan said.

  ‘No, I don’t think so.’

  That was harsh but true in retrospect. Euan looked down at the grass not wanting to meet Kate’s eyes.

  ‘Hmm, silence,’ she said. ‘Good strategy.’

  Kate sat down next to Euan. ‘You must also be tired,’ she said, ‘from all the walking you’ve been doing this last week.’

  ‘Kate,’ Euan said. ‘I haven’t seen her until just now.’ He decided to not ask what Kate thought she knew. ‘I still like her enough to want to see her. Sometimes. At least on my terms. I’ll get over her. Maybe I already have. I’m not putting any pressure on her. How could I anyway? She says she’s in love with someone else.’

  ‘You do remember what
I told you, don’t you?’ Kate said. ‘I don’t want either of you hurt. But none of us can help proximity. If it happens again, well, it happens again.’

  Euan did not want to talk to Kate about Clare anymore.

  ‘Thanks for sending Michael,’ he said and smiled.

  Euan waited three days before he telephoned Clare. They met at the same cafe they had spent their first afternoon together. They drank coffee and Clare talked and showed photographs of her trip home. Euan listened and made no obvious mistakes. They parted as if they were friends.

  Euan let time pass. He had more time for work once he no longer wandered like a spectre around campus. He analysed and interpreted Clare’s silence. One moment her silence meant she never wanted to talk to Euan again and at other times she was desperately struggling to keep herself away from him.

  He wanted to contact Clare but vacillation was his plan, this time.

  Chapter 16

  ‘You’re not busy Thursday night, are you?’ Michael asked Euan. ‘No, of course you’re not.’ He answered his own question. ‘You’re either at work or here, most of the time worrying about Clare.’

  He and Euan were in Euan’s room practising the Bach Lute Suites. They could play them all and had formalised how they swapped from one guitar to the other.

  ‘Because,’ Michael continued. ‘We’re going to play the Suites at the University cafe. In front of people. Nothing major, we’ll just sit in the corner.’

  Euan’s face frowned. He had been complaining to Michael that he needed extra distractions to stop thinking about Clare, but Michael’s suggestion was too much.

  ‘I can’t play in front of people,’ Euan protested.

  ‘Of course you can. But, there’ll hardly be any people there anyway. It’s the next logical step. And you, of all people, should appreciate logic.’ Michael pointed to the garden outside the floor to ceiling windows. ‘It’s time to show more of the world than your garden.’ He sounded deadly serious although Euan knew he attempting humour.