Into the Light

by Megan Hetherington

  “How long have you been up?”

  “Couple of hours. Thought I’d take Belle out for a walk and then try and get ahead so I can finish early. There’s a tour of the campus starting at ten which will take about three hours, so I’ll meet you at the end and we can have some lunch.”

  “Excellent.”

  “I’m gonna head off now. Here’s a key.”

  He cups my face with both hands and kisses me softly.

  When I hear the door pull to, I take my coffee and walk around the house, Belle trots behind me. I stop to admire oils on canvas and books in various sized bookcases dotted around. I open the lid on an old writing desk and touch the notepaper inside. It’s all very homey and tasteful but as I move from room to room I have a feeling that it’s from a different era. Perhaps it’s just a scholarly thing but there’s no TV or sound system. There was a portable radio somewhere, but that was pretty much it. The coffee Kane has made me, came from a French press filled with water boiled from a kettle on the stove. The fittings in the bathroom are clean and functional but Victorian in style and probably original to the house. There’s no obvious colour scheme but everything is harmonious and artistic. A bit of a dichotomy for a scientist’s house.

  I linger at another bookcase; this one is full works of classic literature. There’s Henry Miller and Arthur C Clarke and Edgar Allen Poe, but then also Emily Bronte and Jane Austen.

  Is this Michelle I am seeing in the wall art and the books and the soft furnishings? I wonder if she read literature or art at university, because these are not signs of a scientist.

  Or are they?

  Kane just keeps adding layers for me to peel back and discover. Just when I comprehend one, he adds another.

  I shower and dress, excited for my day of being a tourist. It seems so long since I ventured anywhere new and I’m really looking forward to this. I put on a pair of comfy shoes, denim shorts and a tank top.

  Belle is wagging her tail as if she wants to come with me and I feel cruel when I have to shut the door in her face.

  I follow the app on my phone that guides me through the streets to the campus. It’s invigorating to see so many fresh faces, all high on the expectations a degree from Oxford University will bring. My university life was nothing like this. All hangovers and rain in Manchester.

  It feels like I’m at the Brideshead Revisited film set. Kane’s house; students with long knitted scarves and blazers; old bicycles and trousers tucked in socks.

  When I get to the meeting place there is already a small chattering crowd. I approach the assumed leader, an older guy holding a clipboard, to introduce myself. I’m on the list and the tour starts shortly after.

  There’s so much history and I’m eating it all up. I feel my chest puff up at the thought of Kane actually studying and now working here.

  My head hurts but my heart sings by the time we arrive back at the meeting point. I quickly thank the guide and run off towards Kane who is propped against a stone arch, his foot lazily up on the wall behind him. His gorgeousness reinforced by the awesomeness, I am now starting to appreciate, of his ability.

  He’s not bragged about his accomplishments or boasted about his place in life, which makes him even more attractive to me. Another contrast to Charles, whose whole life had been about the outside perspective with little personal depth to explore. I realise Kane is the anti-thesis to Charles in every way. Unassuming, quietly confident and full to the brim of interesting stuff. He’s like a new country, a new world even, that I am yearning to explore.

  I tingle all over at the thought of him. The whole of him... including the bits I don’t even know about yet, because I have a feeling they are going to be just as good as the microcosm I have experienced so far.

  He moves away from the wall towards me and with no words of greeting, tells me how much he has missed me and I respond with the same sentiment.

  Finally, he pulls away.

  “Did you enjoy the tour?”

  “Yes, it was so interesting. I knew there was a lot of history here but wasn’t aware it dated back as far as it does. But what’s all that nonsense about women not being allowed to study here until the late nineteenth century and then for it still not to be formally recognised as co-ed until 1974?”

  He laughs. “It’s not a theory unique to this establishment. Like you, I’m from Yorkshire and I think women studying is still frowned upon up there, even now.”

  “Yeah.” I know what he means. “I didn’t see you though?”

  “Well, I saw you.”

  “Did you? Where?”

  “In the hall doing numerous selfies in front of the stairs.”

  “Oh my God. Those stairs.” I clap my hands together. “I didn’t know they were the actual stairs in Hogwarts. I couldn’t believe it when the guide pointed it out.”

  “Did you get to see the other settings from Harry Potter?”

  “Yes, the dining hall. Which is just amazing. I can’t believe this is where you actually work.”

  “Yeah, kinda special isn’t it?”

  “So, what are we doing about lunch. Is it a quick bite to eat and then back to work for you?”

  “No. I’m done for today and I thought we could maybe go on the river down to a nice picnic spot I know.”

  I look up into his eyes.

  “Sounds perfect.”

  Just like you, Kane.

  We walk down to the river, stopping at a deli on the way where we pick out some treats for the picnic. The rowing boat is just like I’d pictured with two oars, a bench at one end and a double seat at the other. We are given a waterproof barrel to stow under the seat for all our belongings, which is a little unnerving, although Kane assures me we wouldn’t need it. His quiet confidence exuding once again.

  The assistant from the boat rental hut gives us a shove off the banks of the river, which jolts me even though I am sitting down. It does nothing visible to Kane’s rock-solid stance, and he waits for us to float off into the middle of the river, before sitting down and picking up the oars.

  “So how do you keep fit?” I ask thinking about the strength of his core.

  “Boxing.”

  I cough. “Boxing?”

  That’s another surprise to add to the list.

  “Yeah, nothing more than friendly sparring, but that’s what I do to keep fit. Skip rope, push weights and work out any stress on a punching bag.”

  “Wow. I would never have guessed.”

  He unbuttons his shirt, revealing a tight white tee. He dips the oars in the river and pulls back simultaneously on them. His shoulders widen and I become mesmerised with the play of the muscles in his upper arms, straining at the push and pull of the rowing action. He leans back into it and his chest expands, his torso dipping at his upper abdomen forming a sexy hollow, leading into his taut abs.

  Oh my. I feel like I’ve got the front seat at a Magic Mike show and even though he is still fully clothed, I can see right through his tee to the body I have previously had my hands all over. I hope we can find a nice secluded place to have the picnic. Maybe under a willow tree.

  I bite down on my lower lip and rest my elbows on the shelf at the back of the boat, taking in the luscious performance. I think the lust is showing on my face because Kane has got a lazy smile on his lips and a wicked twinkle in his eye.

  We seem to be catching up to everyone else on the river and I don’t know if that’s him showing off or genuinely his boating skills.

  “So, have you ever been in a proper fight?”

  “Like a boxing match?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No.” He laughs. “I don’t take it that seriously, just sparring.”

  “But you obviously know how to handle yourself.” Thinking back to how natural Kane was at stopping Charles in his tracks at the pub

  “Did you see him again after that incident?” I ask cautiously.

  “Who, your ex?”

  I nod.

  “No, why have you?” He re
sts the oars on his thighs and lets us glide through the water, probably so he can concentrate on reading my expression.

  “No,” I lie.

  “Has he not been in touch at all since?”

  “Well sort of. He’s asked to meet up but I’m not interested.” A white lie.

  He looks concerned. “What do you think is behind that?”

  “We’ve still got a lot to sort out.”

  “I thought you were going through the solicitors for anything that needs resolving?”

  “Yeah, we are.”

  “Well it might not be my place to say this, but judging from the way he was the other night I would feel a lot better if you just stuck to communicating through the solicitor.”

  I nod and look away from Kane, shivering at the recollection of the look in Charles’ eyes. The blackness and fury that I am starting to believe isn’t solely a result of me dumping his belongings at the flat and more likely to be the self-anger caused by his betrayal and subsequent regret. I think the flowers reflect the position he is now in with his fiancée, baby on the way and a troublesome divorce settlement. Not quite what he had envisioned for his midlife crisis.

  Well me neither, and if in ten years’ time I too have a midlife crisis, I’ll be damn sure that I am sound of mind and kind of heart enough, not to act with the same transgression.

  I look back from the riverbank to Kane who’s powering through the water again.

  I wonder what will be in store for the two of us and if in ten years’ time it is he who I still share a bed and am forging a life with.

  Maybe.

  Maybe not.

  And if it’s not, I will have a benchmark. A touchstone to measure all others against.

  He lets one oar rest up while he pulls robustly on the other, changing our course so we move through the shallower waters towards the edge.

  I smile when I see the willow tree. It’s branches dipping into the water.

  We come to a stop against the muddy bank and Kane effortlessly leaps out, with the rope tied to the back of the boat in his hand. He pulls on it and secures it around a wooden bollard, pegged in to the bank.

  I offer up the paper bags with our lunch and then hold out my hand so he can help me out. I have to hang back off his arm to clamber up the bank, my feet slipping on the mud. There is no danger of me losing grip though, he is holding me tight and I’m sure even if I just had hold of his little finger he wouldn’t let me slip.

  We find a spot, farther up the bank on some dry green grass, but away from the willow tree. It’s so peaceful here, not close to any traffic or houses.

  I lay back and look at the blue sky dappled with white fluffy clouds. Kane lays back with me, both mirroring the other, one knee bent and one hand on our own stomachs. The other hand free to make sure we are sharing this moment.

  The wind has changed and the clouds are moving east to west now, pulling in warmer air from the continent. Summer is finally here. I let out a long sigh. This is one of those moments that I want to wash over me, to nourish every cell in my body and to let the anxiety of the last few months dissipate.

  I don’t want to go back home.

  I want to stay here.

  I feel safe.

  Out of harm’s way.

  At peace.

  Kane is gently rubbing his finger up and down the outside of my palm. It feels reassuring and seems it is in reaction to my thoughts.

  A family of ducks interrupt our moment, probably drawn to our lunch. We both sit up to watch them waddle around and quack at us like we are zookeepers at feeding time.

  “We’ve got nothing they can eat.” Kane tells me.

  “Not even some bread?”

  “No, especially not bread.”

  “Oh.” I bow to his greater knowledge. “Well we best eat it then so they will go away.”

  Our lunch is delicious, even though I only consume half of mine; it’s not wasted as Kane demolishes the rest. Then we lay back down.

  I realise Kane is asleep when I start to ask him about his degree and whether biology was his general science subject before he honed in on life sciences and he doesn’t reply. I’m not surprised though, he expended a lot of energy last night and then was up very early this morning.

  We’ve got nowhere to hurry to, so I turn on my side, snuggle up to him and do the same.

  It’s the ducks quacking again that wakes me up and I blissfully think I’ve only dozed off for five minutes but when I check the time I see that we’ve been asleep for over an hour.

  I dig Kane in the side and he sits up abruptly. There’s a look of complete confusion on his face which cracks me up.

  “What happened?” he croaks, shooing away the ducks from around his feet.

  “We fell asleep.”

  “Ugh, I feel dreadful. Did you sleep too?”

  “Yeah, like a baby.”

  He checks his watch. “Shit, we need to get the boat back.”

  He stands up and holds out his hand to help me up. I brush off the grass from our backs and we head back down to the river.

  I teeter on the edge of the bank, and shriek when my feet start to slide towards the river. He braces in the boat and lifts me up so I don’t land in it and knock us both in to the water. Instead of sitting down, he holds me in his arms and looks deep in to my eyes.

  “I won’t ever let you fall Rosa.”

  And I believe him.

  His words are significant in so many ways. I know he would stand up for me, he showed that on Saturday night, but a time frame has now been hinted at.

  Ever.

  I won’t ever let you fall.

  My heart thuds to a slow, more meaningful beat.

  He cups my chin and runs his thumb over my lips, parting them lazily before pressing his lips to mine.

  I feel the boat rock beneath my feet at the same time as my whole world suddenly rights itself.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Rosa

  “Do you want to go to the theatre tonight?”

  “Yeah,” I reply enthusiastically.

  I can’t remember the last time I went to the theatre. It wasn’t something Charles and I did, as it didn’t allow him the opportunity to speak at me or whatever captive audience he had ensnared for the evening. Or that is my theory looking back on why we never indulged; there was always plenty on at Harrogate or York.

  “Great. There’s a performance of War Horse, if you like the idea of it?”

  “Yeah.” I repeat with equal vigour.

  I’ve read the book and know it is quite emotional but figure it is also quite a manly performance so I can see why Kane would suggest it.

  “We can grab something to eat at one of the nearby restaurants before we go. We should have time.”

  I haven’t brought any fancy clothes, although actually I don’t really own any fancy clothes anymore, so I hope my choice of a wrap-over dress will suffice.

  As usual with men, Kane is ready in no time and he is laying on the bed watching me apply some makeup.

  “I’m going to have to go downstairs.”

  “Oh. Okay.” I say, a little bemused at the urgency of his remark.

  He rises off the side of the bed and comes up behind me wrapping his hands around my stomach like the dress I am planning to wear will later.

  “Because if I don’t, I’m afraid I will have to have my wicked way with you and then we will miss the show and more importantly dinner.”

  It makes my stomach flip to hear him speak that way. After all that has happened and the years of comfortableness that Charles and I tolerated, it was breathtaking that Kane reacts to me like this.

  He nibbles on my ear lobe and then leaves me fizzing.

  I finish preening and move to put my dress on, but the band around the front of my bra shows.

  Ugh.

  No matter how much pushing and pulling and tucking I do, it still gapes open just at that point and ruins the full effect.

  Plan B.

  I have
no plan B.

  I look for different underwear and the only thing I have that has a deep plunge cleavage is a delicate lace teddy.

  Dare I?

  I try it on and slip the dress back over it. It is a perfect fit.

  I don’t know why I decided to bring it as I’d never worn it before. It always seemed so frivolous and impractical and I think if Kane hadn’t have made the bold comments about finding me attractive and sexy, I wouldn’t dare wear it now.

  But he has.

  So I am.

  I walk hesitantly downstairs aware of my lingerie secret and hoping desperately it won’t turn out to be a mistake.

  He’s out in the garden, throwing a ball against the wall. Belle leaping up to catch it in vain each time.

  He stands when I open the door and pushes his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

  “Wow, you look gorgeous Rosa.”

  “Thank you.” I smile gratefully at how such a comment, absent in my life thus far, can make me feel so amazing.

  Belle appears at his feet with the ball she has gleefully retrieved. Wagging her tail, ready for some more.

  “Sorry, not tonight girl. I’ve got to take this beautiful woman out instead.”

  I’m sure Belle understands because she skulks off, with a forlorn look, to her dog bed in the kitchen.

  Poor Belle.

  Lucky me.

  We walk to the restaurant, overtaking a happy throng of first year students, spending one of their last weekends with their friends before departing to their families for the summer. Exams over and no dissertations to submit, they are carefree. Their voices carrying excitedly in the still summer evening air.

  I’m holding Kane’s hand, or rather he is holding mine. Firmly. My legs having to work hard to keep up with his gait. I feel as if I’m skipping as we make our way along the cobbled street and out on to the main thoroughfare.

  He’s booked us a table at a French restaurant and it feels like it has been plucked from the centre of Paris. We are seated at a small bistro type table, fresh linen napkins elegantly draped by the waiter onto our laps. Kane orders a sparkling Evian and I a glass of Champagne.

  “It suits you,” he says, holding my hand across the table.

  “The drink or the dress?”