The Apartment Pt. 03

***

Over the next few days, as the weather warmed up, I spent every moment when we weren't working or together trying to decide.

Portia was sweet and attentive and occasionally tried to be affectionate. I became paranoid that she would guess something was on my mind, so I tried to return her affection without letting her feel that we were now an item. It was an impossible task, as in many ways I was falling for her.

She was open, honest and straight forward. Her new found confidence, dress sense and sophistication made her hugely desirable. She was bewitching me.

I succumbed to her charms one evening at her flat and our passion was consumed in her bathtub...I feigned an orgasm though, something I had never done in my life, and felt wretched afterwards...

Finally, the weekend before the concert, I made my mind up that I wouldn't go.

The relief to my inner turmoil was immense. We stayed in the apartment that Saturday night and watched an old movie.

Simple pleasure followed simple pleasure as like a pair of teenagers we masturbated each other through our knickers as the finishing credits rolled down the TV' screen.

***

Things started to go wrong the following Monday. Portia and I had our first real argument about the creative direction we should take for a new London based retail client. She was pig headed about getting her own way, and I became upset that having won the new account she was not interested in considering my greater experience and knowledge of the client. We shouted at each other and said unpleasant things.

In the end I told her she was just wrong and I wasn't prepared to use her ideas. She stormed out.

I didn't see her at all on the Tuesday or the Wednesday. She texted me to say she was working from home. I carried on preparing the client portfolio, seething that I had to do it on my own.

Late in the afternoon the client called and requested the next meeting to be brought forward to that Friday morning. Not knowing whether Portia was going to help, I grudgingly said I could make it, knowing I would have to work all hours to complete the presentation.

I texted Portia to tell her what was going on, hoping she would understand we needed to work together to finish in time, but she merely texted back saying "Fuck you" I was furious...

Things got worse on Thursday. I tried calling her but she wouldn't pick up and when I called round to her place to try and settle our differences she wouldn't let me in. We then had a row through the intercom...

I stomped back to the apartment. The heavens opened as I was walking. I hadn't got a coat or an umbrella and got soaked.

I stood in the bathroom having stripped off all my wet clothes and dried myself off. The memory of Heather getting soaked in the rain came to me. How captivated I became that day just over a year ago...

Heather, Heather, Heather - how I missed her...

I looked in the mirror and took stock of myself.

52, single, divorced conventional and miserable. I looked a fright too, my hair particularly.

I pulled on dry clothes and went to the living room.

I changed my mind.

I would go to Stowe.

I rang Izzy's salon in Regent St. She could fit me in on Friday.

The wait was over.

***

I finished the designs late that evening, and was in London for 9am the following morning.

The senior management team liked the presentation and made some preliminary sample selections. The struggle had been worth it. I was relieved, happy and left their offices with a further extension to the contract and work for a couple of months.

Izzy greeted me like an old friend. I loved her youthful vigour, We sat and drank tea and chatted and considered what we might do to my hair. She was slightly alarmed that it was so out of condition.

I told her I wanted to make a statement for Heather.

She encouraged he to be bold with both cut and colour, and so we settled on a short graduation style. It would be full of volume and fun at the front but very short at the back. I had never had my hair cut really short so I was more than a little nervous. Three hours later when I saw the final results I realised I need not have worried. Long shapeless hair was replaced by a dark blonde short style that needed no maintenance and fell into shape in a second. I was so happy I hugged Izzy, I looked and felt like a million dollars.

***

That evening, there was still no word from Portia. I was concerned that our differences had become too protracted and left a message on her voicemail suggesting we met for supper on Sunday. We were business partners and needed to work through these challenges. That old adage about not mixing business with pleasure was ringing in my brain.

Eating supper I sat wondering about seeing Heather. How would we meet? I decided she simply would have the seat next door to mine so there was nothing to worry about. I went on to the website for the concert and looked at the programme. It was mostly orchestral though there was some dance in the finale and fireworks to follow. I recognised most of the composers and a few of the pieces, it looked like it was going to be spectacular.

***

Small swifts were darting about the buildings calling to each other as I left the apartment on Saturday. The sounds of an English summer, it was the most perfect day...

I went into the city, to Joan at the lingerie shop, and purchased a new white satin and lace bra and hi cuts. I had an orange and white striped summer dress that I'd bought for France and never worn, and a bolero jacket in case it got cool. I also had some new white sling backs and a matching bag. I was determined to look my best.

I bought a new lipstick and a few groceries and walked home. There were already small butterflies in my tummy and it wasn't even lunchtime.

I looked on the site again and worked out where to park and what refreshments were available. It was clearly going to be a big thing...

By 2pm I was restless. I was worried about Portia.

Had I been unreasonable? I didn't think so, but why was she avoiding my calls. Why had she been so angry on Thursday. I didn't understand. I tried her mobile, it was switched off. I sent her a text asking her to call me.

I put the radio on to act as a diversion, it didn't divert me, so I turned it off.

I tried the TV instead, but that was either sport, shopping channels or dross. I turned it off.

I decided on a leisurely bath. It was the only thing I could think of. I soaked and thought of Portia and Heather and how they had changed my life. If I had to choose one, with the devil before me with a shotgun, which would it be? Of course it would be Heather wouldn't it...? But Portia had saved me from myself...

I'd forgotten to get my legs waxed, so I shaved them and my armpits. I deliberated about my pubes, but decided my hands were shaking so much I'd best leave them. Anyway who was I fooling, it was a concert I was going to, not an assignation...

But then I wondered should I pack a small hold-all just in case?

I got out of the bath, and washed my hair in the sink. It took about a minute. Why had I hung on to long hair so long?

In my robe I did my nails. Then I dried my hair. It took a little bit of work to get it as good as Izzy had got it, but in the end I thought I looked pretty bloody lovely...

I finished my make up, new lipstick was perfect, slipped into my new undies and put my dress on. It was 4.30pm, still too early.

I needed to kill some time, so I rang my son for a catch-up. We had hardly spoken for weeks.

***

Half way down the M1, a thought came to me that metaphorically winded me...

Portia must have found the concert ticket...

I'd been so careful. I'd tucked it in a side pocket of my purse...

She couldn't have found it could she?

If she had, that would certainly explain her anger. Why hadn't she confronted me about it?

It didn't make sense.

I was so wrapped up with my thoughts, I nearly missed the exit for Stowe...

The Car Park was busy. Some guests were already sitting on car rugs eating food from cool boxes and slurping champagne. As I walked past them, I felt slightly conspicuous being on my own..

I made my way to the gatehouse presented my ticket, picked up a seat cushion, and wandered up the hill. It was nearly 7pm.

At the top, a guide steered me between the lakes, towards the Temple of Ancient Virtue. As I drew nearer, the wonderful setting for the evening's entertainment started to reveal itself.

An arc of three temporary grandstands had been erected in front of the lake, and with the natural hillside to the back with the Temple sitting at the top, the effect was reminiscent of being in an amphitheatre. In the bottom of the bowl, an orchestra stage was on one side and a dance stage on the other. In the middle of the dance stage was a large black maypole, ribbons hanging down.

I made my way to my seat. I was very early, but I wanted to find out whether Heather was sitting next to me. Perhaps she was there already?

It turned out I was in the front row at one end, right in front of the dance stage. There was no clue as to who was sitting next to me. The programme for the evening was still on the seat.

I sat down and marvelled at what a wonderful location Heather had put me in. I would be able to see everything right up close.

I wandered back out of the arena to one of the Champagne tents that had been clustered by the lake. I bought a glass, made my way to the edge and people watched. Where was she? My stomach was in knots...I was praying this was not another of her party games..

I scanned hundreds of people looking for her, but there was no significant her.

Suddenly my phone pinged with a text. It was from Portia and simply read:-

"Hope you enjoy the concert and find what you are looking for...Sorry I've been a jealous cow...Portia."

I clutched my phone to my chest. I could feel myself welling up with tears again. She had known all the time... she was so smart that one...God, why was this all so fucking complicated...

I made my way back to my seat and settled down. I picked up the programme and started to flick through it. As I turned the middle page, a small white business card fell out into my lap. I turned it over, and there in familiar italics was a short message:-

"Thanks so much for coming, See you later.

Hx"

I froze. She was here, and she had seen me without me seeing her. How had she managed that? I swivelled round in my seat and scanned the rows around me. I tried to do it methodically, but it was so difficult, there were probably a thousand people there now, and some were still finding there way to their seats.

A ripple of applause broke out. The orchestra was taking up their positions. The sounds of random tuning started to drift in to the air. A flute, a trumpet, an oboe, a rumble of kettle drums. The air of anticipation was building in the audience, and I was stressed to the point I couldn't take much more. My stomach was making the most dreadful noises.

Another round of applause, a small balding conductor took to the dais. That was also the moment that the occupant of seat number A14 chose to arrive. It was a youngish man with a beard.

The hubbub in the audience died down. A few moments later the conductor pulled the orchestra together and the opening chords of Sibelius' Finlandia rang out.

I spent some time studying all the females in the orchestra. Heather had never said anything to me about her musical prowess, but after everything that had happened I no longer took anything for granted.

There was no musician with Heather's distinctive auburn hair, and scarcely any of her age group. Where the hell was she?

***

Finlandia drew to a close, the crowd stood in appreciation. The lights around the arena came up. It was the interval.

To my left the young man in seat A14 stood up. As he was about to walk past me he leant towards me.

"Caroline?"

"Er, yes?" I replied startled.

"Hello, my name is Peter, Peter Barnard..."

"You're Heather's younger brother aren't you?"

"Yes."

"And you were at school here, weren't you?"

"Right again. I must say you are very well informed."

"Well you can blame your older sister for that. Talking of which where is she? I know she's here as she's already sent me a message," and I produced the small white card from the programme.

"Yes, you'll see her later. My instructions from her were quite clear. I'm to take you to the Champagne tent and buy you a large glass of whatever you fancy," and he took my arm and escorted me out to the back of the stands.

As we walked, my patience snapped. "Can I ask you something please?"

"Of course," he replied.

"I just want to know, why does everything with your family have to be so fucking theatrical?"

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean," and he stopped and turned to look at me.

"Oh Peter, it doesn't matter, it's not your fault. It's just that every time I meet anyone in your family there is always a complication. Take tonight. Heather can't simply walk in and sit down next to me, she sends you, and you tell me I'll see her later, but you don't tell me when.

It's so predictable. It's how your family controls people...keep them guessing. I'm so tired of it...now where's my champagne?"

"I'm sorry Caroline, I thought I was actually helping. I'll go and get you something now. Dry presumably?"

"Yes please," and he trotted off.

It was much darker now than it had been at the start. I looked around to see if Heather was anywhere to be seen, but of course she wasn't.

Peter returned and we drank each other's health and made small talk until the bell sounded.

The second half began with Greig's Peer Gynt suites, which I vaguely knew. The stage was now fully lit with floodlights, but around it the darkness had closed in. Up above us, The Temple of Ancient Virtue was illuminated from within so the columns looked dark and imposing, but the inside of the temple was bathed in a golden hue and looked warm and inviting.

In a quiet moment I whispered to Peter, "Where's Heather?" He shrugged his shoulders.

I checked my phone - nothing. My nervous apprehension was starting to dissipate, a hint of anger was starting to return. The Greig finished. The applause was lengthy and appreciative.

There was a pause before the finale

(Play Hugo!)

A group of dancers took to the stage. They were dressed in floaty pastel dresses and ballet pumps. There were two Principals, a boy and a girl who looked like they were early 20's. The chorus looked even younger..

The lighting to the stage was adjusted. Bright light now fell only on the dance stage. The orchestra had to rely on small lights over their music stands.

The Lights in the Temple were also changed. The columns and the area immediately around them was now brightly floodend, but the inside of the columns was now dark and impenetrable. It was clear that all was set for the highlight of the evening. I had never heard of either Hugo Afvens or his Midsummer Rhapsodie, so I didn't know what to expect. The conductor raised his baton...

The initial theme was a bright and cheery dance with clarinet, and woodwind. The dancers moved gently and artfully. When the strings and brass joined in the dancing increased in tempo, the maypole acting as the focal point.

The second theme brought in the two principal dancers, who whirled around the maypole and the chorus, with phenomenal speed and agility. They spun and flung themselves around until the music started to slow. The light on the dance stage also started to dim.

Everything seemed to stop as the trumpets faded. The key of the music changed to minor, a harp came in and then a sad melody from an oboe. A pair of floodlights slowly brightened on a sole female dancer in front of the temple up in the distance...

As the haunting music built she weaved her way in an out of the pillars in a graceful pattern, her dance mesmerising for its grace and fluidity.

As the theme repeated, this time with French horns, my heart came into my mouth.

It was Heather it had to be Heather...

I couldn't really see her as she was so far away, but I knew...

I stood up.

I ran down the aisle at the front of the stand and out to the side. The strings in the orchestra joined the theme, gently at first but then in a rolling wave. A crescendo of sound that made my heart want to burst with emotion. I had to get to her...

I found a path and started to run up the hillside. I was 50 metres from her now. The violins went up the scale. They got louder and louder, my brain was overwhelmed by the passion in them.

Suddenly they quietened, the floodlights at the temple dimmed, and the light went back on to the main stage.

The orchestra reprised the first theme and the dancers picked up their summer celebrations.

I was close now. It was pretty dark. I knew she would be inside the Temple. I pushed open the door.

She was sitting on a bench. Her chest was rising and falling from the exertions of her dance...

I was out of breath...

"Hello Sexy. I knew you would find me...love the new look..."

I ran towards and stopped in front of her. She stood up. She was smiling one of her beautiful smiles, those flawless teeth.

As I drew close to her, I raised my hand and slapped her hard across the face. She winced with pain, raised her hand and rubbed her cheek.

"That is for leaving me a year ago, and doing nothing about keeping in touch. You have driven me to the edge of despair..."

I leant forward and took her hand from her cheek. I kissed it gently. I smelt jasmine.

We fell into each other's arms.

I kissed her on those full luscious lips. A slow sensual kiss.

"And that is for coming back...and to say I love you."

We kissed again. Another slow sensual kiss that had a beginning but I never wanted to end.

"I love you too Caro. I knew you would wait for me..."

She took my head in her hands and kissed me once more.

The music and the dancing reached its climax. The crowd stood in applause.

It didn't matter, nothing else in the world mattered, we had other things on our mind.

The End.