Destined to Play, Feel, Fly Trilogy

by Indigo Bloome

  ‘Now Alex, listen to me, and please listen carefully.’ His voice is slow, firm, commanding. ‘You and I go a long way back and I want to spend the next forty-eight hours with you. I don’t want to have a few drinks and have you disappear into the universe again.

  ‘I know it has been tense between us since you arrived and that’s because we’re constrained by time. If we know we have two full days together, we will be able to really get to know each other again. Let it be just about us, no one else — just this once. It’s important to me, Alex, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t. I don’t want to argue with you, I don’t want to scare you, I just need to know now that we will have this time together, time we haven’t had for many years.’

  My ears are ringing in confusion, as is my heart. The electric current running from his hand into mine lands straight between my legs, so much so, that I almost believe he can feel it.

  He wraps his fingers around my wrists, his eyes pleading with mine. ‘Please. Alex, I’m begging you … forty-eight hours? Tell me you’ll stay.’

  My mind has gone AWOL. I can barely breathe, let alone speak. What is he doing to me? I have never heard him sound like this, so needy, so longing. I think to myself that maybe he is in some type of trouble or pain and needs to talk about it. My heart says, Yes that’s it, he is my best friend and he needs me. Of course, I should have picked up on it before. Why else would he sound so beseeching? He probably doesn’t have too many close friends he can talk to like he can with me, particularly given the pressure and responsibility of his job and research commitments. He obviously needs to talk otherwise he wouldn’t be putting me in this situation. And here I am, contemplating not being there for my friend, my best friend, just when he needs me.

  Needless to say, I lose the battle as my voice concurs with my heart’s logic. And I hear myself say ever so softly, ‘I suppose … I could …’ I can barely get the words out of my constricted throat as they form an almost inaudible whisper.

  But because Jeremy is still so close, he hears them. With eagerness written all over his face he asks, ‘Did you say what I think you said?’

  Is he really trying to make me say it again? It was hard enough the first time.

  ‘I need to know you’re committed. You have no idea how important this is to me.’

  I take a deep breath.

  ‘Yes, I will stay for the weekend,’ I confirm, a little more clearly.

  A smile instantly washes over his face as he releases my wrists, sweeps me off the lounge and embraces me tightly as he spins me around the room. I can’t help but laugh as the tension vanishes between us.

  ‘Thank you, Alexandra. You won’t regret it, I promise.’

  He excitedly reaches for the waiting glasses of champagne. ‘Let’s toast. To the next forty-eight hours.’

  To which I can’t help but think, Oh dear, but toast him nonetheless and allow the bubbles of the champagne to join their butterfly friends in my stomach.

  Before I can come to terms with the reality of my agreement, he says, quick as a flash, ‘Right. AB, where’s your phone?’

  Of course, I will need to let others know of my sudden change of plans, the forthcoming consequences to my family and friends finally dawning on me.

  ‘What am I going to say? What will they think?’ I am talking out loud as I fumble around in my congested handbag and locate my phone. Reservations once again creep into my thoughts. Am I doing the right thing? Was it a moment of weakness or desire that made me say yes? Undoubtedly both!

  ‘Jeremy, maybe I shouldn’t … it’s not right …’

  ‘No buts, no regrets, AB!’

  Jeremy bounces right next to me on the lounge, as if sensing my apprehension and second thoughts. He snatches the phone out of my hand and strides to the other side of the room. The excitable puppy is turning panther-like with frightening ease and grace.

  ‘Let me take care of that for you,’ he says with a huge grin on his face.

  He has completely regressed. Where is the distinguished, globally acknowledged and multi-award-winning medical research doctor? I am apparently back at uni with my cocky mate, still teasing and tormenting me.

  ‘Please give it back.’

  ‘Not on your life, sweetheart, you’re mine for the weekend. You just said so yourself. Don’t worry, I will send through a message on your behalf.’

  I have no idea whether he is serious or not.

  ‘I am more than capable of sending a message from my own phone.’ I walk over to where he is standing, my hand outstretched, waiting. ‘Give it to me, now.’ My voice is stern as he ducks and weaves, manoeuvring himself away from me like a complete idiot.

  ‘I need to call home. JEREMY!’ I scream at him as he continues his childish movements around the room.

  ‘No, you don’t need to call home. You just told me they are in the wilderness, with no phone reception for the next week. There is absolutely no reason you need to call them or worry about it.’

  So that explains the intense interest with which he was listening to my plans. I should have known he had an ulterior motive.

  ‘Jeremy, stop mucking around.’ Panic starts to permeate my voice as he runs into the bedroom closing the door behind him.

  ‘This is not funny. Give me my damn phone, you bastard.’ I furiously pound on the door he is obviously leaning against to keep me out.

  ‘Ah, there’s the feisty Alex I know. There’s the spark I’ve been hoping for … Now, whom do we need to inform of your intriguing change of plans? Your brother. And Trish, she can then send to the others … oh, and Sally. That should just about do it, shouldn’t it?’

  ‘Jeremy, don’t you dare!’ I am seething.

  He comes out from behind the door, ensuring I am well away from him as he reads out the message. Before I can respond, he presses Send.

  ‘You didn’t?’ I gasp.

  ‘There, you are officially mine for the next forty-eight hours.’ He looks like the cat that swallowed the canary.

  He then turns off my phone, walks over to the cupboard, opens the door, presses a code to open the safe while blocking my view, places the phone inside and promptly locks the door.

  He spins around to see the look of absolute shock on my face.

  ‘What the hell do you think you are doing?’ I explode. ‘I need to have that phone with me. Anything could happen.’

  I feel as if he has temporarily disconnected me from my life. I realise that is exactly what he is hoping to achieve. I find it a very strange, weird sensation, being completely uncontactable.

  ‘Explain to me, AB. Are you saying that the world won’t survive with your phone switched off for a couple of days, or you won’t?’

  The tone of his voice and the look in his eyes clearly tells me that any arguments regarding this matter will be futile.

  ‘Why are you doing this?’

  ‘Simple. I’m being selfish. I know that you are always available to your family and friends and I have no intentions of sharing you with anyone else this weekend. That means no interruptions.’

  I stare at him dumbfounded. ‘When did you become so bossy and controlling?’

  ‘I had a good teacher at university, and I’ve been practising for the past few years,’ he says, winking at me.

  As I move toward the cupboard, his octopus arms grab me around the waist and hoist me into the air before firmly depositing me on the lounge.

  ‘I don’t think so.’ He is grinning now.

  ‘We are not at uni now, Jeremy. I’m a grown woman, for god’s sake!’ I sound like a school teacher. He stands over me, eagerly anticipating my next move.

  ‘Fine,’ I say, folding my arms across my chest, clearly not happy. ‘Well, you put your phone in as well — that’s only fair.’

  He laughs. ‘You always did have to have the last word, Alexandra, didn’t you?’

  He turns his phone off and with elaborate arm movements, opens the safe, places his phone next to mine and swiftly locks it again.
>
  ‘Done.’

  Part II

  ‘Don’t be too timid and squeamish about your actions.

  All life is an experiment. The more experiments you make, the better.’

  — Ralph Waldo Emerson

  ‘It’s exciting, isn’t it? When was the last time we had an opportunity like this, to catch up, play, explore and talk into the early hours of the morning? It will be great fun. I have it all planned.’ His energy on the lounge next to me is almost infectious as I attempt to maintain a nonchalant demeanour with him.

  ‘I’m not sure whether that makes me feel better or worse.’ Although my comment is said lightly, there is a heavy truth underlying my words. He notices my fingers trembling again and my glass balancing precariously in my hand. He takes it from me, presumably as a precautionary measure.

  ‘Honestly, Alex, all will be well. I know this is a big decision for you but you know I would never hurt you and that deep down, we have both wanted this to happen for ages. We just haven’t had the opportunity. Let’s just seize the moment we’re in right now, as per Eckhart Tolle.’ He pauses as his grin steadily pries his lips open. ‘Thanks for the books by the way, there was a lot of truth in them.’

  I roll my eyes in utter disbelief but can’t prevent the smile curving at the edge of my mouth.

  I had sent him The Power of Now and A New Earth for Christmas a few years back. I remember talking to him on the phone, overflowing with praise for the books and their life-changing messages. Serves me right, I suppose; maybe it is karma coming right back at me, to challenge me. Here I am, thanks to Jeremy, well and truly living in ‘the now’ for the next forty-eight hours.

  ‘Okay. You win.’ I concede. ‘Let’s have another drink so I can at least take the edge off my decision.’

  ‘Your wish is my command.’

  ‘Hmm, I’m not too sure about that,’ I say, accepting yet another refill. The champagne is definitely going down far too easily.

  ‘Come here; let me show you around the rest of the penthouse so you feel more comfortable.’ I accept the offer of his hand as he lifts me from the lounge.

  The penthouse is certainly impressive. It looks as though it has been recently refurbished in some funky, retro ’80s style, nothing like my place but it certainly works in this environment. The master suite is decorated in an ultra urban-modern style and is a masterpiece in its own right. The king-size bed is encased with industrialised steel, the bed head is incredibly masculine, but its intricate detail gives it the sense of delicate feminine undertones — of thickened, metallic lace, almost. I can’t say whether I am relieved or disappointed at the existence of a similarly decorated second bedroom. I’ll worry about that later. The entire space is larger in size than the average house. After our tour, we finally relax into our friendly banter about old times and share a lot of laughs. This was the catch-up I was hoping for and my mind finally relieves me from worrying about the implications of my decision to stay.

  Jeremy tells me about his research and the work he has been doing with certain global movers and shakers, which really inspires him. He says he’s had the opportunity to meet some wonderful people although others are just after glory, fame or money, sometimes all three. He looks a little agitated as he considers this.

  ‘But that’s the life I have chosen and I won’t let anything stand in the way of what I’m trying to achieve. It’s just too important.’ The determination in his voice is almost frightening. I sense there is more to it but the tension in his face prevents me from exploring further and he quickly reverts the topic back towards me.

  He asks me about my work and study and seems exceptionally interested in the topic of the lectures I am giving. I try not to bore him with the details but he seems genuinely fascinated in our perceptions being directly influenced by each of our senses. He even wants to explore further the impact of visual, auditory, olfactory, kinaesthetic and gustatory senses on shaping our perceptions and experiences. He adds considerable medical insight to our discussion, which I value immensely. I had forgotten what a gracious conversationalist he can be, putting people at ease, encouraging them to open up and never making them feel inferior, even though his knowledge is so immense. It is the sort of discussion you can only have with a few people in life, those who know you well enough to question and challenge and who have enough intellectual and emotional maturity to be truly authentic.

  With an active listener like Jeremy, coupled with my passion for the subject matter, our dialogue continues for some time. I figure I have had more than my share of air time so I stop to give him a chance to change topics. I notice again the mischievous twinkle in his eyes and his lips trying to hide a smile.

  ‘What is it? I’m sorry, I’ve been talking way too much. You should have stopped me.’

  ‘Not at all, you know I love to see you like this. Hearing you speak so passionately about your work is just wonderful. Not everyone feels that way, so it’s special when it happens.’ He smiles a bashful grin at me. ‘I just need to come clean about something and I haven’t yet.’

  ‘Oh, what’s that?’

  ‘I was actually there today.’

  ‘Where?’ I ask, not fully understanding.

  ‘At your lecture, this afternoon.’

  I stare at him, eyes and mouth wide open.

  ‘You were there, today, at my lecture?’ I am completely astonished.

  ‘Yes, yes and yes. I know I should have told you earlier, but I just wanted to see you in your world.’ He turns to me gently. ‘You were fabulous, Alexandra, you really engaged the audience and stimulated such thoughtful discussion. Both the students and faculty were mesmerised by you and your work. As was I.’ His voice oozes sexiness.

  This time I am truly speechless. The great Jeremy Quinn attended my lecture. Unbelievable! I subconsciously pick up my glass and take a gulp that finishes the rest of my drink. Jeremy tilts his glass toward mine, gesturing a silent cheers and does exactly the same. I suddenly feel the full impact of the champagne in my head, which is quite pleasant actually, and more immediately, my bladder — not so pleasant. I excuse myself and go into the bathroom. After relieving myself rather urgently, I notice the bathroom is bigger than my bedroom at home, with sleek frosted glass and marble covering most surfaces. It is stocked with all the luxuries you would expect from the penthouse suite of a five-star hotel — mini bottles of body lotion, shampoo, conditioner, shower gel, as well as soap, grooming kits and shower caps in little pastel boxes that look so gorgeous it would be a shame to open them. I look longingly at the sparkling-clean oval bath when I hear Jeremy tap on the door suggesting that he run a bath for me.

  ‘Have you become a clairvoyant as well in our time apart? Is there anything else I should know?’

  He laughs. ‘I know you’ve had a big day and if I remember correctly, one of your favourite pastimes is having a bath. Also, I have a vested interest in making you feel as relaxed as possible, so I’d be more than happy to run one for you. Just like old times.’ Strange that his words sound so familiar given so much time has passed since this last occurred.

  ‘That sounds delightful. Are you sure? I’m more than happy to do it.’

  ‘Alex, please just do me a favour and go with the flow this weekend.’ He enters the bathroom.

  ‘I don’t want any resistance and I plan on maximising every hour I have with you. Now, it will be my pleasure to run you a bath, so why don’t you go and get your things together and settle in.’

  Once again, I look at him, completely astounded. Am I dreaming? Is this really happening? I walk out and head toward the exceptionally large walk-in robe where my wheelie bag has been placed. I hear his voice over the running bath water as I take a moment to absorb the sheer opulence of the master suite.

  ‘Please unpack your belongings. I need to know you’re not going to run out on me this weekend.’

  As I start doing exactly as he requests, I wonder whether he was always this directive. I suppose he was. Not in a b
ad way, just in a way that makes it awkward to go against. Surprisingly obedient, I unpack my clothes, shoes, take out my toiletries bag, and leave my work papers in my briefcase.

  I’m about to walk out of the room when I notice the phone on the bedside table. Given the noise of the bath running, I quickly go over to the phone and pick up the receiver. It won’t hurt to leave a quick message for Robert and the kids, just in case they haven’t quite lost reception.

  A female voice answers. ‘Good evening, Dr Quinn. How may I help you?’

  ‘Oh!’ I say into the phone, taken aback by the voice at the end of the line.

  I didn’t expect an operator and I’m obviously not Dr Quinn. At that precise moment Jeremy comes up behind me, wraps one arm around my waist and removes the receiver from my hand.

  ‘Sorry to disturb you, we don’t need any assistance at the moment and please don’t connect any calls from the penthouse suite unless I speak to you personally.’

  I hear the lady say, ‘Yes, of course, Dr Quinn. Enjoy your evening.’

  ‘Thank you. I intend to.’ He gently replaces the phone.

  I feel like an errant child who has been caught in the closet by a grown up eating someone else’s candy and immediately turn a deep shade of red. I have never been able to hide my embarrassment or shame from anyone, let alone Jeremy. I can’t believe I’m feeling so culpable about trying to make a phone call. I don’t utter a word.

  He wraps both arms around my waist so I am entrapped in his strong arms, snuggles his face into the side of my neck and inhales deeply before saying in a low, quiet voice, ‘Try anything like that again and that cute arse of yours will be the same colour your face is right now.’