No Promises Only Loving Company

Kathryn accepted Simon's offer to drive her home from the Tamblyn's dinner party. Jilly was a close friend who had helped her through the trauma of losing her husband to cancer, just over a year ago, at the age of forty-three. She had hesitated in agreeing to be there for the evening, to dress up and be chatty, and to make the most of the hours away from her home. It often felt that she was living in a solitary cell, with no incentive to go out.

"Go on, you may be surprised by whom I have invited to be your companion," Jilly had enthused in her persuasive ways, a laugh never far away,

"I'm not looking for a companion," she had corrected.

"You know what I mean, Kathy...so please, just be with us for the evening."

She deserved to do so because she was way too young to live out her life as a singleton. The grieving for her loss would slowly become muted, never gone, but she also owed it to herself to gradually reclaim a social life that she and Tom Lovett had once pursued. There was now just an echoing void and she knew that a start had to be made in getting back to how life once was, as far as that would ever be possible.

She also knew that she could not live out the rest of her days without the raw and physical pleasures that she had found with Tom, their sex drives matched perfectly, and their loving pursued over nearly twenty years of a childless marriage. Before their romance and marriage, they had each played the field when at university, but not excessively so in her case.

Yet, in truth, there had never been a man like him after they had met and monogamy had become the only way for them each to function. And then the walls of that coveted world had come crashing down and she had been left on her own, financially provided for and secure, but with a void in her life that would have to be filled. Of that she was sure, just as she was intent on doing that on her own terms.

She had been uneasy about letting go when Jilly had spoken about the man she would be seated next to, but she had been persuaded. He too was recovering from a loss, but the apps and sites that helped people like them had not persuaded him to pursue any of the introductions. That much Jilly had also confessed. So, they were in the 'same boat' so to speak. And meeting in homely surroundings might be the way to soften the reality of what they each faced.

"You have to start somewhere and with someone," Jilly had finally said, exasperation clear in her voice. But it went with her friend's understanding too.

As Simon drove her home, her thoughts spooled back to their evening together.

♥

Over dinner, they had looked at each other and smiled, made the most of the opportunity to talk, laughing that Jilly, their amiable hostess, had made up the party's numbers by inviting them as a couple. They had, after all, been placed to sit next to each other at a boisterous table of six other guests. Her soft manner of speaking was in marked contrast to the noisy ebullience of Jilly who held a view on everything and loudly sought Simon's opinion on each subject under discussion. The party had at times been rowdy, in spite of the general conversation that ebbed and flowed across the table before neighbours would turn to talk to each other. John played the perfect host, pouring out some excellent wines that Simon was obliged to sample out of politeness, yet he drank modestly. Jilly would cause the first ripples of conversation and see to it that the party sustained a momentum that would justify all of her efforts.

Kathryn observed Simon as he entered into conversation, with those around him, and listened to his teasing answers after being singled out so often. Whenever they turned to each other to continue their own conversations there had been a smile of interest, even relief, on his face. She had sensed an immediate empathy between them, its origins more than to satisfy Jilly's table plan. She regarded him unwaveringly with her lively brown eyes, attempting to put him at ease in a group where Simon was a comparative stranger. They all knew of his business reputation and how he had made his money, they even commiserated, tactfully, on his bereavement, but of the man, they were all curious. She had learned of his situation; he had been ignorant of her personal life in one particular detail.

Thanks to Jilly he had learnt all about it. She had taken him aside before dinner and explained.

'The poor woman! She had few people to turn to in her grief. It's been eighteen months or so now.'

'I didn't know...it's not something you just ask,' he had replied.

'No, that's true Simon, but, she's a dear friend. Look at her?'

'I have, Jilly! I don't need a prompt to do that from anyone, I can assure you!'

They had laughed at Jilly's directness of purpose and his appreciative reply.

'Okay, I'm sorry.' Jilly had smiled, somewhat crestfallen by her own behaviour., but there was one more observation that she felt inclined to make. 'You're both in the same place, alone after a shattering ordeal. I thought it would help to ask you both, to make it all seem less arranged when we're together like this.'

'He knew what she meant only too well and the woman they spoke of, in her figure-hugging jersey dress, shapely figure, and lovely smile was more than just the object of his attention. He might seek to pursue so much more with her, deliberately purposeful in ending months of not being with any woman that he could take a fancy to. He certainly felt that way about the blonde-haired woman with a cloth choker that matched the colour of her dress, fastened at her throat, a jewelled brooch drawing the eye easily to her.

Kathryn noticed his thoughtful silences and the care he took to answer a question or to enter into a conversation with relative strangers. He weighed up his words carefully and she sensed that with her Simon was more open, his smile broadened as he visibly relaxed, paying her close attention, offering a flirtatious, whispered compliment on the elegant style of her dress. His eyes were attentive, their colour a blue-grey that stared out from a lean face, his furrowed brow often hinting that he was as taken by the moments that they could share as she was. He looked young and fit, his greying black hair swept across from the left side of his head, his mouth small and his chin softly pointed. She thought that his attentive ways, Simon's features, and the way that he had dressed for the evening gave Simon a chance to be the one to break the barrenness that had become her personal life.

But how as she to start, or should she simply let the evening unfold?

She had become susceptible to his soft-spoken charm, and the unmistakable interest in his eyes; the way that he leaned in close to her as they talked. She had reason to be grateful that Jilly, who winked at her in encouragement, paid attention to the man on her left leaving Kathryn free to tell him of her interests. There had been the ownership of a small livery stable before her marriage had crashed to pieces. But now she taught dressage -- more as a distraction than out of financial necessity. Kathryn found him to be an engaging dinner companion, openly attentive in his questions to her and the ensuing discussion of her answers.

In a discreet pass, Simon had touched her hand, as he asked about her bracelet. He found it was surprisingly easy, in spite of drinking little and having set off on his 'date' expecting to try and keep up with the horse-and-hound conversation topics that he had imagined would flow between the guests, more so than politics or other matters of interest. Kathryn remained a keen horse rider, and even went hunting occasionally, but it was not a subject he discussed easily or wasted too much time on, loathing everything about it.

'You're not into that at all, are you?' she had asked at one point in a soft, modulated voice when his replies became briefer and she saw that he was trying to steer their talk onto a different subject.

'No, the closest I get to anything remotely resembling hunting is clearing up the offerings my dogs bring me from time to time.' He lowered his voice. 'Riding I can understand, even learn to appreciate the skills involved and develop an understanding with your horse. As for the rest, well...,' he waved his hand, dismissing any further talk of it.

'Oh, but explain, please?'

'Most of the chasing I do is on foot, running...following my dogs through the woods and fields behind the house, or on my own. When they get the scent of something, they're off!'

He said it with a smile and a small expressive gesture of his big hands. She noticed the signet ring, nothing more; his wedding ring had been removed.

'They answer my calls, so they're not totally out of control.'

'What is the purpose of it all?' she asked, raising her eyebrows in a small gesture of inquiry, 'why bother with it if there's no objective or purpose to it?'

'There always has to be a reason for any endeavour. It has to have a point. What do you think?' he answered obtusely.

'Depends on whether there's any fun to be had...when you're chasing about...or at the end.'

He laughed, his eyes widening in a sudden display of enjoyment that altered his features. Kathryn met his smile and acknowledged her attraction to the man beside her. A moment's melancholy, earlier in the evening, had vanished and she now accepted that these sudden changes testified to Simon's determination to enjoy the evening and to prevent a return to a restrained manner that recent, tragic events, had brought upon him; upon her too for that matter.

'It does seem a bit pointless,' he now confessed, 'when you ask me quite so directly and to explain it.' He again touched her hand and Kathryn removed it, slowly, a little smile on her lips once again. She was enjoying flirting with him and felt the cramp of longing that having an attentive man seated so close to her.. 'It's only against time, over a course, but I do less of that now. It was me against the clock...or the thought, 'Why the hell am I doing this?''

'I ride...exercise friend's horses or teach their kids. I do some eventing...it keeps me busy; I'm not cooped up at home...and the riding isn't an obsession, not at all. I try not to let that happen.'

'But you can't always keep the association of thoughts at bay, can you? I certainly can't and that's why I agreed to be here, at dinner and now I know why. You're the company I need.'

'Simon, can you say that so soon?' she sighed.

'Yes, I can.'

Kathryn looked at him carefully. There could be no doubt, he possessed a physique that was the result of frequent exercise and he told her that it had become part of a daily routine -- running through the grounds of the house he had re-built. It was enough to stay fit, he thought, and she saw nothing to make her disagree.

The conversation would be interrupted by guests who sat by them and on such occasions, she found his eyes return to her, briefly, almost in apology for being taken from her; there was the unusual thrill from the effect that she seemed to have on him.

Simon was taken by the woman.

Kathryn had a quiet, understated elegance that made the knee-length black evening dress she wore so eye-catching, with its V-shaped neckline so elegant. The skin of her bare arms and shoulders was pale, an unblemished white, and the softest pink nail varnish decorated her gently rounded fingernails. In comparison to his deep tone when he spoke, her voice was clear and even. She spoke in precise, not clipped, English and gave the brightest of laughs, her thin mouth transformed to show full lips and lovely even teeth. Simon found her shapely figure and poise instantly appealing; he felt the tug of instant attraction. Kathryn possessed a vitality that made him turn to her whenever the opportunity arose for them to speak to each other and he imagined that the evening was taking her out of the shell she could retire to. That much Jilly had hinted at.

'And the prize?' she asked him now out of curiosity. 'Did you ever win anything for your troubles?'

'No, I won nothing at all. There were no garlands to be put around my neck by a pretty girl.'

She smiled and he saw the dimples crease her face on either side of her thin, straight lips. It was a warm response and Simon had looked at her intently, drawn to the long, soft sways of hair that fell to her shoulders. He had reached up to touch it, only to realise how this gesture might be construed.

'Pardon...I'm sorry.' He looked at her, embarrassed now. In his voice had been heard the unmistakable confusion he would have felt because of his actions. She also saw that, for an instant, before he apologized. 'I shouldn't have done that and I'm sorry to offend you.'

'It's all right, Simon,' she whispered in reassurance watching him as he took some sips of wine. 'No offence has been taken.'

'I've been caught letting go of the past, just a bit,' he confessed softly, glancing her way as he said it.

'You won't hear me complaining,' she had confided, her head bent closer to his until they almost touched in a very personal confession of their prevailing circumstances.

She had often laughed, continuing to be flattered by his attention, although she realised that it was prompted by some memory and feeling intense sympathy for him. She too felt the strongest impulse to reach out and touch, to show her own needs but she contented herself by responding whenever he made a gesture or hinted at an attraction that courted her.

He looked so strong, leaner than the men seated at the dinner table that she knew were much the same age as him. Simon showed her every consideration while he continued to make conversation with those about him, even though she could sense that he was not accustomed to mixing with her circle of friends. There was no spontaneity of reply with them; he reserved that, or so it seemed, for her alone.

She concluded that this was of no consequence and conceded to her own mood of excitement at having been paired with him, to have met, at last, a courteous and attentive man, unaffected by what he had achieved. She found herself taking his side in discussions, supportive, against those that intrusively quizzed him and she heard modesty in his replies when Simon had been obliged to explain certain deeds. This attitude was in contrast to the closed society she kept where everyone seemed to know everything about someone. His company would do her good and she needed that and so much more, she now realised. The man seated beside her would be the one, perhaps, to take her onto a different path. She was close, but she was not yet seduced by his flattery and restrained her racing thoughts of the future and how she would retain his interest.

'I suppose your work takes you outdoors all of the time...no desk-bound duties to detain you like some of us here?'

'I'm too restless to sit about for long.'

'It explains the tan. Jilly told me that you were different from the others to be invited.' She had said it in a hushed tone, bending her head closer to him, not wishing to be overheard. Her fingers rested next to his at the edge of the table and Simon laid his beside them, if only for a moment. Each look, word, and touch seemed to be drawing them ever closer.

'Only compared to you, who is so beautifully pale-skinned,' he smiled, amused by her reaction to the directness of his flirtatious reply. 'May I say that?' Kathryn blushed as he leaned towards her. 'And with a hint of rose, I see now.'

She laughed and gave him a sideways glance. 'Can I stop you, Simon?'

'No, you can't, Kathryn. I'm too direct sometimes and perhaps I should carry a warning sign.'

'I've taken note, believe me.'

Her complexion was clear, unmasked by any makeup save for the faintest colouring applied to her fine, pale-skinned cheekbones. Simon would stare at her loveliness, enchanted by the graceful manner in which she occasionally drew her lightly curled, oh-so-fine, blonde hair from her face.

'Are you always so...so forward?' She glanced modestly at him from the corner of her eyes, her head bowed. Attention was not on them.

'Only now,' he said as their eyes met. 'At any other time, I'd probably be lost for words.'

Simon described small circles on the starched and still immaculate tablecloth with the base of his glass as he thought about what he had said. She possessed an almost fragile elegance that aroused him and brought the realisation that during their evening together he would permit his impetuous nature to hold sway. He wanted to flirt, to hold her, to kiss the pale lips and her smooth skin, and to feel desire for someone new and totally unconnected to his life or the past.

The evening for them seemed to be following an inexorable course, their conversation continuing during the evening, whenever etiquette allowed them to talk, to become immersed in one another. She had not wished for their time together to end, and when the knock on the front door finally came to announce that her taxi was waiting, she had to decide how to bring the evening to a close.

Simon helped to make up her mind.

'Stay, if you can, please Kathryn? I could escort you home?' he suggested in a soft voice, standing beside her, in the clearest sign, yet, of his wish to keep her near him. He had even paid off the taxi driver and given him a tip for his trouble.

♥

The wheels crunched on the gravel drive as Simon pulled the small two-door Mercedes off the road. The Mozart clarinet piece ended just as they arrived, Kathryn sharing his love of the music. The headlights picked out the flower urns against the stone walls of the property, the clipped privet bushes lending distinction to the architecture and the setting of the house. He admired the faithful adherence to vernacular style, the neat leaded windows in their stone mullion frames, and the precision in the craftsmanship.

The lady beside him shared his taste, but what to do now?

'Thank you for your company, I've had a lovely evening,' Kathryn said, looking across at him, and refrained from touching his hand.

Simon stared ahead, drumming his fingers silently on the steering wheel. He had loosened the top buttons of his shirt and his bow tie lay on the back seat. The formality of the evening was finally over and, at last, they could speak without the noise and distraction of others around them or concern at being overheard.

'Yes, I have too,' he said quietly, glancing sideways at her. 'It was a surprise to be invited, better still to have met you.'

He understood Jilly's reasons for doing so, their circumstances being so very similar and he had forgiven Jilly's match-making effort very quickly, in fact from the moment he had seen Kathryn. She only had a thin shawl around her shoulders against the chill air and he had put the heater on during their short journey to her place, over quiet Cotswold roads.

Her scent now filled the car and Simon simply wished to remain with her, to feel a woman's touch and succumb to the ache of longing that she had aroused in him. Kathryn was someone new in his life and he had thought of nothing else but how to enjoy her company and step out of a routine way of living, and that recent events had brought upon him.

The burden of grief was gradually lifting off his shoulders and he sensed that in her too. He wanted it to be uncomplicated, each of them conceding to a wish to be taken out of themselves and with someone else.

'Has it been a help, coming out tonight, not too contrived?' For once she felt entirely at ease, swept along by his company and the words they had spoken, the hint of feeling attracted to one another.

'It's been fine.' She saw that he was smiling. 'Being with you made the party for me. I feel as if I've been out to dinner just with you.'