Starcrossed (4 page)

The night she’d snuck out of the hotel to walk with him along the beach, he’d held her in one arm and his guitar in the other.  They’d walked towards the cliffs and sat on the sand and while the moonlight had played over the water Tom had played for her; his audition piece for the Academy. 

Georgia had listened, transfixed, as his music, soft and rich, swirled around them.  “It’s beautiful,” she’d whispered when he finished.  She’d wanted to tell him how it made her feel, but she couldn’t find the words.  “It’s just…you really wrote that?”

Putting down the guitar, he’d pulled a rumpled piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her.  In the silvery light, Georgia could just make out the musical notes.

“You can have it, if you want,” he’d said, shyly.  “It’s all in here, anyway,”and he’d tapped his finger to his temple.

“Thank you,” she’d whispered.  “I’d like to sketch you one day.”  She’d smiled up at him, holding his music tight.  “With your guitar.”

He’d smiled too, then his gaze had drifted to Georgia’s lips, and slowly, he’d leant in.  He’d smelt of soap and the sea and Georgia’s heart had been pounding harder than the waves.  Even in the dim glow of the moon she could see the heat in Tom’s eyes.  The sheet music fluttered to the sand as he’d tilted his head, cupped her cheek with his hand, and gently pressed his lips to hers.

The kiss had been perfect.  And though Georgia had been kissed before, it had never been like that.

As he’d pulled back, Tom had looked shy and uncertain, but there’d been a kind of wonder in his eyes.  Georgia had put her finger to her lips, like she could still feel him there, and smiled.

Tom had smiled too.  And they’d both leant in again, but this time there’d been a crack as they’d bumped foreheads.

“Ow!”

Tom had jerked back quickly.  “Did I just head butt you?  Oh God, I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay, I’m fine.”  Georgia had blinked hard a few times, trying to clear her head.  “Fine.  What about you?”

“I’m good.”  But he’d looked so worried, and Georgia had giggled as she rubbed at her forehead.  But then Tom had gently moved her hand away and placed a kiss there instead.

“Better?” he’d asked.

“Much.  Just be more careful next time, okay?” she’d teased.

“There’ll be a next time, then?”
“I hope so.”

Tom had grinned.  “I’ll start lower.”  Then he’d slowly dropped his face and grazed his lips softly, almost lazily, over her throat.  With her head tilted back, Georgia had closed her eyes.  A soft moan had escaped her parted lips as he’d blazed a trail of heat over her skin, taking his time as he pressed kisses along her neck and jaw, until he’d finally captured her mouth again.   Georgia had wound her fingers in his hair, holding him closer as Tom’s arms pulled her harder against his chest. 

“Mum?  Mum?”  Sophie’s voice broke into Georgia’s memories.  “You’ve practically stirred a hole in the bottom of the tea cup.  And you’re leaving something out, aren’t you?  What happened after TJ played the guitar?”  Georgia couldn’t believe it when she felt the soft warmth of a blush on her cheeks.  Really?  After all these  years?  She glanced down at her tea, and Sophie’s hands flew to her mouth. 

“Oh!   Um, okay, I don’t want to know, do I?”

“He handed me the sheet music,” Georgia said casually, keeping the memory of that kiss to herself.  “And then it started to storm.”

The wind had come up suddenly, from nowhere, blowing hard and fierce, and the stars had disappeared.  The rain had started too – no gentle pitter pat, but hard drumming pellets of water that lashed at them.  Georgia had quickly shoved Tom’s music into her pocket as Tom had leapt up, grabbed her hand and his guitar, and they’d run for the path that led up the cliffs.  She’d lost her footing twice on the slippery, uneven track, but Tom held her fast, his fingers tight around her wrist, never letting her go.  As they’d neared the top she’d tugged the collar of her jacket higher against the pelting rain, and felt Pegasus give way.

“My necklace!” 

“We’ll find it tomorrow!” Tom had shouted over the gale.  “When the rain stops.”

The hotel wasn’t far from the beach. Under the portico of the front steps, Tom had kissed Georgia, and then said good night.

“No, wait!  Where are you going?” she’d asked.

“Back to my room at the pub.”

“You can’t!  Not in the rain like this.  That’s the other end of town.”

“It’s a small town, it’s not that far.”  He’d smiled and gently caressed her cheek.  “I’ll be fine. You go and get dry and warm and I’ll see you tomorrow, after the rain stops, and we’ll find Pegasus.  I promise.”  He’d kissed her again, softly, tenderly, his lips lingering at the corner of her mouth as he whispered,  “Now that I’ve found you, I’m not letting you get away that easily, Georgia.”  Then he’d pulled back, and with a wink and a wave, he’d disappeared down the steps into the night, leaving Georgia breathless and burning.

The rain hadn’t stopped, though.  Overnight the weather grew into a storm so savage that it broke the pier and wrecked the beach and sent holidaymakers away in droves.  The next morning, despite her pleas, Georgia’s parents had packed their bags and loaded the car.  She’d tried to leave a note with the front desk, for when Tom came looking, but the staff had been busy with a flooded dining room and soggy carpets.  So she’d left the folded square of paper, bearing her name and phone number and the heading
For Tom,
on the reception counter.  She’d tucked the corner of it beneath a flower arrangement with a lot of hope, but no real confidence, that it would ever find its way to him. 

Georgia had watched for Tom as they’d driven out of town, but there’d been no sign of him, though it was hard to be sure.  All was chaos.  The footpaths were crowded with sight-seers venturing out to gawk at the damage.  There were barricades and emergency vehicles everywhere with police re-directing traffic and rescue crews dealing with swinging power lines and trees that had crashed through roofs.  Georgia’s desperate request that her father stop at the pub had fallen on deaf ears, and she’d cried quietly in the back of the car all the way home.

“It’s just a holiday romance,” her mother had said gently.  “And you’ll have plenty more before your time’s up, love.”

But that had been no comfort for Georgia.

“That was it?”  Sophie was all disbelief, her eyes huge.  “Gone?  Just…gone?  No way of contacting him?”

“No.”  Georgia shook her head.

“But couldn’t you have…couldn’t you…”  Sophie waved her hands and looked around wildly, as though a solution might be found amongst the novelty fridge magnets, or sticking out of the fruit bowl, and then gave up when it wasn’t.  “I still don’t know why you and TJ didn’t swap phone numbers in the beginning.”  Her tone was incredulous. 
“Why?”

“No mobiles, remember?”  Georgia smiled.  “Only landlines at home.  And as we were both
away
from home there wasn’t much point swapping numbers, not at first, anyway.  But if the storm hadn’t happened like it did, we probably would have exchanged details a week later, before I had to leave.”

  Sophie actually looked a little pale as she stared at her phone on the counter top.  “I can’t even imagine being so
cut off
.  So, so,
helpless
.”

Georgia shrugged.  “Not completely helpless.  I wasn’t out of ideas yet.”

The next week, Georgia had looked up the Royal Academy of Music in the phone book, and called to find out their audition date. 

September sixteenth.

It was the same date for her enrolment at Langdon and though she’d been accepted, enrolments had to be in person, that was the policy.  But Georgia hadn’t thought that would be a problem, if she timed it right.  All it would take, was some careful planning.

When the sixteenth rolled around, she’d taken the train across the city to the Academy.  Her plan had been to find Tom in the morning and be back to enrol in her courses at Langdon by the afternoon, possibly with Tom and his guitar in tow. 

But it hadn’t worked out that way. She’d wandered the Academy’s halls, peeked into recital rooms, and practically begged the woman in the admin office to tell her if he was on their list.  “His name is Tom.  He plays the guitar.  Classical guitar, and the violin”

But the woman had shaken her head, and she hadn’t been as friendly as Nancy.

“I’d need more than a first name and an instrument,” she’d said.  “And even then, we have a strict privacy policy, sorry.”

“But he wouldn’t mind.”  Georgia had smiled sweetly, and done her best not to sound too desperate.  “Honestly.”

“Sorry.”  The woman had apologised again, though she hadn’t seemed sorry at all.  “I can’t give out student information to just anyone.  And especially if I don’t have a surname.”  She’d turned away then, and busied herself gathering up a pile of folders, making it obvious the conversation had ended.

In a daze, Georgia had caught the train back across London to the art college, but in her distracted state, she’d missed her stop, and didn’t get to Langdon until the late afternoon.  By then, the enrolments had closed.

Feeling numb and empty and out of ideas, she’d been on auto-pilot as she’d gone home.  The next day she’d applied for a general arts degree at the nearby university.  And then she’d locked her heart away, and tried to forget.

“But you didn’t forget about him,” Sophie was smug as Georgia paused to take a long sip of tea.   “Because you were waiting for him outside the studio eighteen months later.”

“No, I didn’t forget.  Drink up, sweetheart, your tea will get cold.”

Sophie lifted her cup.  “So what happened when he drove through the gates.  He saw you, right?”  She went to drink, but the cup barely touched her lips before she put it down again quickly.  A faint flicker of panic flashed across her features.  “Oh, God, he did see you, didn’t he?  Please tell me he saw you!”

“Oh my god, it’s him!  It’s him!” 

The screaming took Georgia by surprise as the crowd suddenly surged forward, like a wave, as a long black car drove through the gates.  She pushed her way to the front as the car slowed and the tinted window slid down.

“He always waves,” gasped the girl with the sign.  “Always.”

Georgia could see him now – the blond spiky hair and the glasses.  Her heart thudded so hard it hurt.

TJ smiled. The crowd screamed louder but Georgia’s precious view was obscured by frantically waving arms. The security guard came out of his glass booth to open the gates, and he shouted for them all to move back.  Now, Georgia waved her arms frantically too, and screamed with the others, but she wasn’t screaming for TJ.

“Tom!” she yelled.  “TOM!”

For a split second she thought he saw her, but the car rolled on and he was gone. 

A second car arrived and this time the crowd screamed for Saxon.  He might have waved and smiled too, but Georgia didn’t know or care.  She wasn’t looking.