One Moment At Sunrise

by Karen Aldous

  Her gaze amused him as he watched her cheeks blush. Was she embarrassed or feeling exposed? She then stroked the child’s head and said, ‘I can’t explain exactly, but you did. Perhaps you offered me something, deep down, I really wanted. Writing is what I’ve always wanted to do. What I set out to do. Researching, I love. You’ve given me that chance, and dared me hope… I don’t know, since you asked, something inside has just come alive.’

  His smile faded a little. He hoped she would say “I think we have a mutual attraction” or, “I’ve fallen in love with you”. He replied, ‘Well, you’re honest.’

  But he knew he couldn’t screw this up. This film was everything. His whole future was riding on it and his feelings had to remain locked inside him.

  ‘Yes, so are you. That’s the other thing. I find you so easy to talk to. And that was so brave you telling me about your struggle with dyslexia. In fact, I don’t shut up when I’m with you. Perhaps that’s a consequence of spending so long alone.’

  Ben chuckled, he loved that vulnerability. He failed to understand why such a beautiful young woman was so lonely. His instinct was to tell her about his own eureka moments – like when his sister helped him with his reading – but he’d already revealed to her his dyslexia. Maybe, the moment he got the call from his agent, or that moment of magic between them on the bridge at sunrise – when he’d been captured by those eyes. He looked into them now. They were the prettiest cornflower blue.

  He swallowed as a waft of her scent drifted to his nose. The same fragrance she wore that morning. He couldn’t be that honest. Too risky for both of them.

  ‘Wow. I’m flattered I made such an impact,’ he said. His eyes flicked over to the bustle of the crew and then back to Evie. ‘I totally understand though. I remember when my first film was picked up. I wrote a story, I was nineteen, twenty. It was filmed in true guerrilla style, you know, low budget with kids from film school playing actors plus a bit of creativity with the camera shots, which now seems so uncool. But this agent at a film festival loved it and rang me. Little ‘ol’ me, Ben Aiden, the dyslexic, the uncool kid, was suddenly a film director. I was euphoric when I got the call, well, speechless actually. I mean, after that, my confidence shot to orbit.’

  ‘That’s such a great start. What was the film called? Will I know it?’

  ‘Taming the Vortex, I doubt if you would have heard of it.’

  ‘No, I haven’t, but it’s so inspiring. You proved you could do it and I’ve no doubt you will do so again with this film.’

  Ben’s pulse quickened. ‘I hope so. When I think of all that time I spent, and my sisters, making me go over and over my words. That was so painful at times. One day I’d thought I’d learnt a word and the next day I’d completely forgotten it. It was hearing the context and the story which I found helped me. I’m quite perceptive by nature and along with being able to see things visually, I was able grasp the emotion and gradually speed up and find my own way. Thus, finding my dream.’ He suddenly realised her eyes were streaming tears.’

  ‘Well hold them. Never let them go. I reckon you are on your way to major success so don’t let anything get in your way.’

  As they rambled about the film and storyline, Ben was conscious of the time. He should now be on location a five-minute drive away. He had given the start time of eight and now it was already ten past. The crew must be cursing. If only he could hold this moment for ever. He sighed as if bruised. So many obstacles. Too many reasons to not tell her his feelings… but at least it felt good to know he had given her something special and, by the sounds of it, a much-needed lift. And, he had to agree, their conversation flowed so easily. The things he’d revealed to her were rarely spoken about. He’d never spoken about his dyslexia to anyone apart from his family. It was always hidden in his shell, symbolic of shame, failure and ridicule. What was it about her that opened him up? He was loath to break up their tête-a-tête but he really had to get going.

  ‘I wish I could stay and chat right now but I have to go. Can we meet again soon?’

  ‘Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to hold you up. Well, I can find you on the canal. I just wanted you to know the idea definitely has legs.’

  His urge was to sweep her into his arms, but he gathered himself, reminded himself, focus on your work.

  ‘I really appreciate that and can’t wait to read more.’ He got to his feet and waited for Evie to stand before holding out his arm. ‘Thank you. See you soon.’ Squeezing her, he brushed soft cheeks with his lips and, holding her longer than necessary, added, ‘I hope.’

  Ben wasn’t imagining it, there really was a magical spark that fired between them. Never had his whole body reacted so wrenchingly and, he sensed, hers too. How tragic that the one person he’d ever felt deeply about was so out of reach.

  Chapter 16

  With sweat pouring from her face, Evie arrived at Suzanne’s door, shaking the fabric of her dress around her chest trying to cool herself. It wasn’t just the midday heat – although she guessed the temperature had reached over thirty-five degrees, even in the shade – but also fear. Damn. What did this man want? She peered out and around the trellised wall but the creep had now disappeared.

  She had finished her interview and, collecting her bike, she’d started back and joined the canal, looking out for him as usual. Just as she was approaching the bottom of Fonserannes, she had swung her head round and seen him cycling along the straight stretch behind her. At first she’d continued, but, summoning up courage as she was without Charlotte, then she rode into the trees instead of taking the bridge at the old canal divide. Jumping off her bike, she squatted beside a bush and peered back, waiting for him. As he neared, however, he’d slowed – possibly because she’d disappeared from view. Evie was willing him to speed up, anxious to confront him. A family sat at a bench behind her, an older couple was on another bench. A young couple with a terrier walked leisurely past her. Come on, come on. With people about it would be the perfect opportunity, she’ thought. But the stalker stopped and was searching ahead of him. The locks were crowded with weekend tourists, he couldn’t see. Evie mounted her bike and sped towards him. Within seconds he turned and raced back towards Beziers. Evie had chased as fast as her legs would take her, but he was too fast. She stopped, waited a while and then turned around to cycle back, disheartened.

  As she arrived at Suzanne’s, he’d hidden. She knew he was behind her but his distance remained. Evie ran her hand under her chin. He doesn’t take photos, he won’t talk or let her confront him, what the fuck did he want?

  Removing her helmet and tidying her hair, she tapped on Suzanne and Bram’s door.

  Her friend opened the door with raised eyebrows. ‘Whoa, you look hot. How was it? Yes?’

  ‘Yes, I’m in. I passed.’ Evie reached out to Suzanne, embracing her with sweat. ‘Thank you for all your help. A little way to go, but over the first hurdle. I start work Tuesday morning.’

  ‘Oh Evie, well done. I knew you could do it.’ Suzanne said leading her inside the small dwelling.

  Still trembling, Evie’s relief shone from her face as she saw Charlotte.

  ‘Well, thank you.’

  ‘Sit down, I’ll make a drink.’

  Although bijou compared to her villa, Suzanne and Bram’s cottage had a lovely layout which Evie thought worked beautifully. It reminded her of her English home, although on a smaller scale. It was possible, she surmised, that the two homes – this, and Suzanne and Bram’s other property next door – were originally one. Apart from the entrance hall and a cloakroom, the ground floor was open-plan with a stunning stone feature fireplace and a wood-burning stove, which would be so warm and snug on a winter’s evening… but not today – the beautiful high ceilings bounced bright rays of sunlight in from the French doors. Snatches of colour emanated from the flower-filled baskets and pots in the long courtyard outside. The other side of the house was very similar to Evie’s own kitchen; filled with cream shaker-style cabinets which gave i
t a cosy rustic feel and a traditional French-feel. The floor, like hers, was finished in a light grey matt marble.

  Bram lay on the smooth, patterned rug between the fireplace and the sofas, stacking play-bricks with Charlotte, whose smiling eyes peered up.

  ‘Bicks, Mummy. Yaaay,’ she squealed, slapping down the tower.’

  ‘Honestly,’ Suzanne beamed, ‘she hasn’t stopped giggling. Bram and I haven’t either. She is so much fun. And she’s had lunch.’

  Ripples of pride and sympathy travelled to Evie’s heart. This couple really deserved children, they would make such loving parents. ‘Oh, that’s great, she looks so happy. You two obviously know how to entertain her.’

  Bram began building up the bricks again. ‘We have played hide and seek, guess the colour and we’ve been counting to five, then ten. She is adorable.’ He added, ‘I haven’t got my work done but I don’t mind, this is more fun’

  Evie tilted her head with a smile. How sad Suzanne hadn’t been able to conceive. ‘I’m so glad she’s been kept amused and not playing up. At least I’ll be able to go to work and not worry.’

  ‘She’ll be fine.’ Suzanne squeezed Evie’s arm. ‘I’m really looking forward to it. And just think of all the new people you will meet. I’m so excited for you.’ Suzanne trundled to the kitchen opening the fridge. ‘What about a small glass of wine to celebrate? I’ve got some rosé open.’

  ‘Why not, but just the one. I have lots to do.’ Evie had to admit, she was eager to be working and part of the big wide world again. Although it was pretty nerve wracking this morning – going in for her assessment, she’d been literally shaking to begin with, she had soon got into the swing of working from her plan. She’d also realised that the students were keen to learn, which made it far easier than she’d expected. Sabine, the manager and trainer, had told her she was a natural, and then informed her that one of her classes was to be adult and the other children, which created a nice mix. She could possibly meet other mums too. What a thrill to have got the position and have a job.

  She squeezed her temples with one hand. Now, she had to ensure Seb didn’t find out. He would be furious. She could run the risk of losing her home. Charlotte’s home. Risking all their security for a little job did seem crazy, but at the same time thrilling. She felt so alive, as though her lungs had been freed from paralysis. Evie was thriving on adrenaline.

  ‘Anyway, it will be great to save up and buy a few extra things for Charlotte. We could take train rides even, or hire a car for a day. Maybe save something for a holiday. I can’t wait to have my own money. Oh, and my sister is visiting again next weekend so hopefully we can have another girl’s’ night in.’

  Suzanne scooped a wedge of thick red hair back over her head and handed Bram a beer before returning to the breakfast bar for two glasses containing cool pink wine. She kept a very small one in one hand and held out the full one for Evie.

  ‘So, congratulations, Evie, santé,’ she said chinking her glass. ‘What a shame we won’t see Cally. Bram and I are at a wedding in Holland next weekend.’

  ‘Oh no, really? Oh, but you’ll have a super time at a wedding. That’s cool, I can’t remember the last one I ever went to one. I was five, I think.’

  ‘Cally is fun though. So many of our friends are getting married. We have two more later in the year.’

  Evie lowered her head, saddened that she hadn’t kept in contact with her friends. She didn’t even know where her old phone had gone with all her contact numbers on. Not that she could afford to ring them, but it would be nice to know what was going on in their lives. She had often thought about them in her solitary hours, and was disappointed with herself for letting so many of her friends drift away.

  ‘I expect many of my old friends have things going on. I just don’t have contact with them any more.’

  ‘Oh you need to get a proper phone or computer, you really are behind the times, sweetie,’ Suzanne chuckled. ‘Facebook is great for tracking everyone down.’

  Evie managed a smile. ‘Yes, well, I’ll be able to work on that hopefully, having some spare cash.’ She gulped a large mouthful of her wine. ‘Anyway, I should go. Leave you two in peace and get to work. Thank you so much for everything you two. Come on, poppet. Suzanne and Bram have work to do now.’ Evie stepped over to the kitchen worktop to collect Charlotte’s bags.

  Just as she zipped up the bag and swung around she caught sight of an object which suddenly bobbed down from the top of the fence. She almost swore aloud. Bloody creep, what does he think he’s doing? But as she peered back, she realised it was a tall sunflower. Stupid. It was tempting to tell Suzanne and Bram about him following her back from Beziers on the canal, but she didn’t want them getting involved or worse, hurt. She didn’t know what this guy was up to and whether he was dangerous. The last thing she wanted was for Bram to confront him and get attacked.

  She gathered Charlotte’s toys into the larger bag. After thanking them again and saying their goodbyes, Evie sat Charlotte on the back of the bike and headed back with caution. Her head jerked back and forth for signs of the menacing figure. Either he had given up or had improved his methods of concealing himself. Of course the latter was, for her, far more alarming as he was nowhere to be seen. She pushed her shoulders back, she should show him no signs of being scared.

  If only she could understand his motives. What did he want? It didn’t make sense. Maybe she should rule out paparazzi. He would surely be seeking images or asking for a story. That hadn’t happened, unless he was hoping to see her with Seb. Now that was a possibility. Or, he could be a stalker, or a private detective? Who would have her followed? And why? That didn’t make sense either. Oh, it was hard to guess. She had to keep her wits about her. Bolting the gate, she steered the bike across to the door and once opened, wheeled it in through the front door and slid the security chain across. After settling Charlotte for her afternoon nap, she checked outside from every window before heading back to the kitchen. She began rooting in her cupboard for her books and Ben’s script. With the house so quiet, she placed her books on the coffee table in the lounge area and tucked her legs up on the sofa. It was so irritating that she had to shut herself inside just in case some creep decided he wanted to intrude. It was so bright, with just a gentle wind; she wished she could have the doors open and the breeze rushing through. An uneasiness remained inside her. She longed for company, for security.

  Reaching for her phone, Evie checked her credit before scrolling down her short list of contacts. She’d been putting off telephoning her mother for too long; afraid that her mother wouldn’t answer, refuse to speak, or worse – give her a piece of her mind. But she’d promised herself she would make the call and certainly, since hearing about her poor health from Cally, had intended to call weeks ago. With other changes and challenges now in motion, there was no better time than now. Pinching her lips with one hand, she scrolled to her parents’ number and lifted the phone to her ear.

  Chapter 17

  ‘Mum?’ Evie’s mouth felt numb. In fact, her whole body froze. ‘It’s Evie.’

  ‘There’s a name I’d almost forgotten. Well love, left you has he?’

  Hearing her mother’s voice, her chin wobbled. ‘No. I phoned to see how you are and to thank you for Charlotte’s present. She loves it.’

  ‘We’re both fine. Thank you for asking. How are you and Charlotte?’ Evie’s neck jarred at her mother’s abruptness.

  ‘Good. Both well.’

  ‘So why the call?’ Her mother’s tone and question caught her off guard.

  Taking a deep breath, she said, ‘Mum, I haven’t got long and I… I wondered if… if I can apologise and mend our relationship. I want at least to let you know I still care about you both.’ After a pause, Evie could hear her mother catch her breath and then as her mother began to speak, her own eyes stung as she heard the choked-back tears and sniffing down the phone. Tears streamed down Evie’s face. She pushed out her chest, fighting the emotion.r />
  Collecting her strength, she said, ‘I’m sorry it’s been so long, Mum, but I’d like to think I’ve grown up a bit and, well, I want my parents back.’ She held her lips tight, sealing in the sobs. She knew she would never stop if she started.

  ‘Love, I won’t come and see you in that house with that Seb Wilde there. I know he’s Charlotte’s father, but it won’t change my opinion. Is he there?’

  ‘No, he’s in the States, working.’

  ‘I’m sorry love. He hasn’t gone up in my estimation. And you don’t sound happy. Are you?’

  The jarring sensation spread to her back, but this wasn’t about her. This was for her parents and Cally. For family. ‘I’ll be honest, Mum. I think you were right. I’m happy enough but I’m beginning to… see things a little clearer and I want to start making some changes. In fact, I’ve started to.’

  ‘Well that’s good to hear.’

  Evie swallowed, holding back the lump lodged in her throat. ‘Mum, I don’t expect a fanfare straight away, just a few chords or maybe meet me halfway. And if…’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’ll give you a ring next month and let you know how things are progressing. There’s lots of exciting things going on for me right now. Love to you and Dad. You keep well.’

  ‘I’m not quite sure what you mean, but Evie – I hope you see the light. He’s a nasty piece, sorry love, it will take some doing to change my mind about him. Love to you and Charlotte.’

  Hitting the ‘end’ switch, Evie slumped over the arm of the sofa and lets the sobs roll. Just listening to her mother’s familiar voice her heart had almost shattered. She hadn’t realised just how much she’d missed her, and her father. Just three years ago, she’d been a selfish child. Naïve, possibly deluded. Her mother only cared and had tried to guide her. No different to what she would do for her own daughter. It was so easy to see that now. Floods of memories, serial episodes played in her mind. In the garden in summer, in the snow, at the zoo, being collected from school, waving to them from the stage when she danced, her father reading stories at bedtime. His goodnight cuddle and kiss; fond moments she would never be able to recapture. Sad, very sad, but – she proffered a light snigger as she snatched a different vision of her father – maybe not all fond, especially when she couldn’t do her math homework and had to listen to him lecture her about how simple it all was, if only she practised. Bah, she would never be like Cally.