Love: Classified (13 page)

     I walked back to the caravan park alone, wondering where I’d sleep if he’d been really petulant and locked Matilda. Luckily he hadn’t and I pulled open the door and climbed in. Sure he was asleep, I slid my dress over my head, slipped on my nightie and slid under the sheet.

     “Virginia,” he whispered huskily from the mattress next to mine.

     “I thought you were asleep!” I said, aghast. “Did you see me getting undressed?”

     “Yes. And I’ll never get to sleep now. You’re a goddess.”

     “You’re drunk!”

     “Virginia, listen. I watched as you undid your bra and your generous white breasts spilled out. In the moonlight I could see the whiteness of your skin, the auburn V of hair between your legs. You’re divine. You’re so different from my wife. I was afraid of touching her in case I broke her. With you I could let go…”

     “In your dreams. You behaved abominably back there. You’re impossible.”

     “I’m sorry. I was an idiot. I’m thoroughly ashamed of myself, if it’s any consolation.”

     I’d probably had a few too many drinks too and my guard was down. “I was flattered, actually,” I confessed. “I’ve never had so much attention. But really, I only wanted to dance with you.”

     “We could indulge in a little tango right now, if you were in the mood.”

     I hesitated. It would be the most natural thing in the world, to be enfolded in his arms, to… But I slammed the thought from my mind. What a fool I was, I told myself. I couldn’t allow myself to fall for Magnus Winchester, only to have my heart in tatters a week or so later. I knew I’d never get over him.

     “Well?” he asked. “I’m waiting, pencil poised, for your reply.”

     I laughed sourly. “You’ll have to put your pencil down. I’m all danced out.”

     “What if I told you I was in love with you?”

     “I’d say you’d had too much to drink.”

     But I was too excited to sleep. Magnus’ jealous outburst had moved me. In my meagre experience of dances, boys and, later, young men had never argued over me. In fact, to my deep humiliation, teachers had been known to force a reluctant male to partner me, or even another girl.

     While curvaceous women were becoming models – and even supermodels – there was still a stronger c
ompunction for women to be stick-thin like Victoria Beckham or even the new generation of European royal princesses. Rubenesque women might be accepted in some circles, but in the most part, hip-bones were preferred to love-handles.

     Wondering about all this and reliving the few
exhilarating minutes when I’d been in his arms on the dance floor, every cell of my body tinglingly aware of him, I reveled in being awake. Still not a hundred per cent well, Magnus had fallen asleep and I relished hearing his smooth, regular breathing so close and the the occasional squawk of a roosting waterbird. I could easily have been asleep at home, only Barney for company. Instead, here I was in a caravan park in York, my mind flooded with sensations that, only weeks ago, I’d never have expected to feel. And, less than an arm’s length away was the man of my dreams.

     It was too perfect a night to allow niggardly doubts to intrude.
I was sure Magnus was merely playing games with me, that to him I was an interesting diversion, a challenge even. But tonight I forced such thoughts away.

     Tonight I’d pretend I really was a woman who’d been argued over at a dance, that several men had wanted to partner me, that I was an attractive, desirable person. Thinking this, for the first time in my life, I drifted off to sleep only to wake soon afterwards. Opening my eyes, the first thing I noticed was that Magnus’ mattress was unoccupied.

Chapter Five

I also saw that it was less dark. Thirsty after my night of dancing I pulled on my kimono and climbed from the Kombi to fill the water-jug from the shower-block tap. It was then I caught sight
of a shadowy figure in the semi light. Squinting, I realised it was Magnus sitting at the card table and watching the river where the birds were noisily wakening.

     “Hello,” I said, offering him a glass of water. “Mind if I sit with you?”

     “Not at all,” he replied, his voice warm. “Come here beside me. We’re just in time for the greatest free show on Earth.”

    
“What do you mean?”

     “The sun’s about to rise. I’ve watched it here for several mornings while you’ve been sleeping and it’s spectacular.
Mind you, the only reason I’ve been coming outside is that I’ve been getting so frustrated lying beside you and not being allowed to touch.”

     “Nonsense. You’re just saying that,” I bit out angrily. “But I’ve never actually seen the sun come up.
I’ve always been a night owl.”

     “I noticed,” he said wryly. I guessed he was referring to my late night home from the dance and decided to ignore it.

     As we watched, the pearly grey sky in the east was gradually flooded with soft yellow. Then, through the black silhouettes of the paper-barks and she-oaks, a wisp of pink appeared like a transparent silk scarf flung across the horizon. More splinters of colour pierced the sky: red, crimson, purple. A long-necked crane flapped slowly across my field of vision, the light flashing off its shiny feathers. Then, above the still water, a blob of gold appeared.

     “There she is,” he said.

     Like a beloved queen, the sun climbed slowly from the surface of the river to the tops of the trees where it hovered, the sky around it deepening to orange and rose while every bird in the district seemed to fly to the trees to herald its arrival and swoop joyfully in its light.  

      I was embarrassed to realise tears were streaming down my face.

     “Are you all right?” Magnus asked.

     “It’s so beautiful,” I whispered. “And I’ve never seen it until now. I wouldn’t have even stopped to look if you hadn’t been sitting there.”

     “I’m chuffed it moved you. I know from bitter experience that some people don’t appreciate a sunrise.
It happens every day. So what?
they say.”

    
“Your wife?”

     “M
mm.”

     “You’re not missing her, I take it.”

     “Far from it. “

Another morning Magnus decided to walk into town for milk and bread. While he was gone I started preparing bacon and scrambled eggs for our breakfast, having lit the communal barbecue near the card-table we’d set up next to Matilda. The bacon was sizzling when I heard heavy footsteps behind me and for a second I was scared one of the bikies might have escaped from custody and come to find Magnus. I turned and grinned with relief when I saw it was only an untidy-looking elderly man.

     “Smells good,” he
remarked, sniffing appreciatively.

     “If you’re hungry, you’re welcome to have some with us,” I said, feeling sorry for him. He was gaunt, despite his heavy walk, and looked as if he hadn’t had a chance to wash either himself or his clothes for a while.

     “You sure, missus? I didn’t mean to muscle in. I was just walking past.”

     “No, it’s fine. Look at me. I could definitely eat less.”

     “You look gorgeous to me,” came Magnus’ chocolately voice.

     “Yer missus has just asked me to eat with you, but it’s probably best if I get going,” the man said, backing away from Magnus.

     “No, stay and have breakfast,” Magnus said. “Sit down and I’ll get you a cuppa.”

     The meal wasn’t the relaxed affair it normally was when it was just the two of us as we couldn’t chat between us about nothing in particular and the stranger wasn’t talkative
until the meal was finished, as if he was desperate to get the food into himself as fast as possible.

     “Yer old lady’s a fantastic cook,” he said to Magnus when he’d wiped up every bit of egg and tomato off the plate with the last piece of toast.

     “I know,” Magnus chuckled. “I’m a lucky bastard, eh?”

     “You sure are,” the visitor agreed. “Who was it said kissing don’t last, cookery do?”

     Magnus and I exchanged amused glances before Magnus replied, “I’ve absolutely no idea, but it sounds pretty true. However, I admit to enjoying the kissing more than the cooking.”

     For that he got a kick on the shin under the table from me.

     “Where are you two heading?” the stranger asked.

     Again our eyes met and I lifted my eyebrows questioningly.

     “Not sure,” Magnus said with a shrug. “Who knows where the road leads? The travelling’s the thing, not the getting there – as you’d probably know. We’re taking each day as it comes, enjoying ourselves, not making any plans. It’s a luxury after what I’ve been through lately. And I couldn’t think of anyone better than my wife here to do the travelling with.”

     His emphasis of ‘my wife’ caused me to blush furiously and he grinned at me wickedly.

     “You’ve got something rare, you two,” the man said. “Blind Freddy could see you’re made for each other. Statistically you’re in the minority. Most marriages don’t last these days.”

“You’re great,” Magnus said to me when the vagrant had left and Magnus had washed the dishes. We were reading novels at the card table. “I love the way you asked that old guy to have breakfast.”

     I looked at him quizzically. Was he being sarcastic?

     “No, I mean it,” he said. “Being easy with all kinds of people is a gift.”

     “Do I take it you’re the sort who picks up hitch-hikers then?”

     “Uh hu. But it’s got me into trouble with certain people. Namely my wife, who used to hate it when I stopped to give someone a ride.”

A few days later we were enjoying breakfast and watching a small group of boys playing in the water. One of the boys was swimming when he suddenly disappeared below the surface.
I was aware that Magnus wasn’t breathing as we both watched and waited agitatedly for the dark head to reappear. When, after several seconds, it didn’t, Magnus kicked off his loafers and threw himself into the river. He too was gone for what seemed  a terrifyingly long time until at last he emerged and looked frantically around as if trying to tell from the ripples in the black water where the child could be.

     Magnus
dived again, came up, gulped some air and went under a third time. I held my breath, willing him to find the boy. Magnus finally surfaced and I let out a cry of relief as I saw the unconscious child in his arms. Using his legs to power himself, Magnus reached the bank and began breathing into the child, pumping on his small, terrifyingly motionless chest.

     Water trickled from the
little mouth as Magnus worked on the limp body, strain and fear etched into his face.

     “I’ll call Dr Jenkins,” I called, running for the van where I’d left my mobile.

     By the time the doctor and ambulance arrived minutes later, the boy was conscious. Magnus cradled him he sobbed in terror, his friends shivering around him.

     “You were amazing!” I said
, echoing Dr Jenkins’ words, as the boy was rushed to hospital.

     “I just went into automatic pilot
.”

     “But even Dr Jenkins said…”

     Magnus cut me short. “I didn’t do anything that you or anyone else couldn’t have done. I don’t have any special knowledge or abilities. I’m pretty useless, actually.”

     “I definitely don’t agree with that and I think most of the people in this town wouldn’t either,” I said.

     “Little do any of you know.”

Mrs Smart invited us to a barbecue at her place one evening and on Magnus’ behalf I accepted her invitation and looked forward to seeing Dr Jenkins, the constable and his wife who’d been at the dance. Mrs Smart lived in a cottage on the outskirts of York, small hobby farms all around her.

    
I’d spent most of the afternoon baking a salted caramel mocha, or
dulce de leche
, flan, one of the home-made pizzas Magnus enjoyed so much and a big salad of roasted beetroot, walnuts and feta. I was glad I had a lot of food to bring as Mrs Smart’s arthritis had prevented her from doing much more than buying a few sausages and chops.