Cinnamon Twigs (10 page)

Authors: Darren Freebury-Jones

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery, #Suspense

BOOK: Cinnamon Twigs

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‘What’s the worst thing that could happen?’

‘That’s precisely what I ask myself.’ I pulled a clump of grass from the ground and let the blades fall between my fingers.

I wished I could replicate Michael’s confidence. I’d been single for a year, and no girl had interested me. Maybe I didn’t have anything in common with this pretty blonde in Gorsedd Gardens, but if I didn’t speak to her I’d never know. She often caught my eye and poked her tongue out.

‘She’s interested in you, mate, c’mon.
Ex nihilo nihil fit
- nothing’s gonna come out of doing nothing,’ Michael urged me.

I strolled towards her as her friends were buying ice creams. She looked up and beamed at me, her eyes like two blue-white diamonds.

‘Hello.’ I winked at her.

‘Well,
bonjour
.’

‘I was just wondering like, if I could get your number?’ I hoped she wouldn’t hear my heart thundering in my chest. Maybe the wink had distracted her.

‘And what would you do with my number?’ She ruffled her velvety hair.

‘Maybe I could give you a call.’

‘Would you like to know my name first?’

‘That might help!’ I laughed.

I guess I’d been influenced by Michael’s assertion that names were only for marriage certificates.

‘It’s Lauren.’

‘That’s a very pretty name.’

‘That’s very kind of you. And do you have a pretty name too?’

‘That would be a matter of opinion. My name’s Daniel.’

‘Hmm, I suppose that’s pretty enough.’

‘Biblical, some might say. Where are you from?’ I asked.

‘I was born in North Wales, but I’ve lived most of my life in Salisbury.’

‘Have I seen you in my English Literature lectures?’

‘Probably. I’m sure I’ve spotted you doodling in the back row. You should be studying Art instead; you’re a regular Jackson Pollock. I do a Joint Honors Degree with Law.’

‘So, you like to read?’

‘Oh God, what kind of dalliant question is that?’ She giggled. ‘You’re not too good at this game, are you? I like to read books, and I like reading people.’

‘I take it you’re reading me right now?’ I grinned.

‘Like an open book.’

‘And what do you think of the first chapter?’

‘You’re very good at putting out a confident image. But it’s taken you ages to talk to me.’

‘I was just biding my time.’

‘Oh, really!’

‘What’s your number?’

‘Ah, yes…’ She read her mobile number out for me.

‘I’ll give you a call.’

‘Does that mean you’re going to take me out?’

‘Well, yeah. If that’s okay with you?’

‘Of course. I look forward to seeing how good a read chapter two is.’

‘Oh, it’s riveting.’ I floated towards Michael as Lauren’s friends came back with their ice creams.

The next rosy-fingered morning, while on the service bus to university, I gazed out of the window at the clear blue sky, and doubted it could ever turn grey again.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Talking Chemistry

Lauren and I text each other over the following few days. She invited me to a little gathering she was having with her friends in the Students’ Union.

I drowned myself in aftershave and smiled at my reflection in the mirror. My blue eyes sparkled with anticipation.

‘You smell like a tart’s handkerchief.’ My mother wrinkled her nose.

‘Thanks. I’ll take that as a compliment.’

‘You’re awfully cheerful. What’s going on?’ She narrowed her eyes and peered at me.

‘Aren’t I allowed to smile?’

‘You haven’t been this jolly in a while. Where to are you going?’

‘I’m just going out for a drink.’

‘With who?’

‘Just a friend.’

‘Which friend?’

‘Nobody you know, mum,’ I said.

‘What about Michael? You’re usually out with him.’

‘No, he’s not coming out tonight.’

‘What’s her name then?’

‘Who?’

‘Don’t play games, Daniel. I mean the girl you’re seeing tonight. Is she pretty?’

‘Yes. Very.’ I brushed a thick comma of hair away from my forehead.

‘So, you’re going on a date.’

‘Not exactly.’

‘Well, just don’t come back with any hickies. Or babies.’

‘I’ll do my best.’

I met Lauren and her friends at the bottom of the concrete steps running up to the student bar. Her friends Amy and Chloe were lovely. But I wasn’t fussed on Lauren’s housemate Gareth, a nerdy, gangly kid who did Medical Studies.

We sat on the leather sofas near the bar’s entrance. Music filled the air. Drunken students played pool and ordered rounds of tequila until they struggled to stand on the laminate flooring. Gareth cast lustful looks at Lauren while boring us with a lecture on scientific research.

‘So, does anyone else want to talk about chemistry?’ I winked at Lauren and she laughed.

‘Would you like to buy me another drink?’ Lauren held my hand and edged closer to me, her lips slightly parted as if she dared me to kiss them.

‘I don’t think you deserve one.’

‘Oh, really!’ She chuckled. ‘What makes you say that then?’

‘You’re teasing me.’ I leant closer to her and inhaled her Armani Code perfume; the seductive mixture of fresh ginger and honey-sandalwood made my nostrils flare.

‘You love it. Otherwise you wouldn’t have wanted to talk about chemistry…’

‘How witty!’ I laughed.

‘So, are you sensing chemistry between us right now?’

‘I think so. But I’m no scientist.’

She placed her hand behind my head and kissed me tenderly on the lips.

‘You two seem to be getting on just fine!’ Amy said.

Gareth left half an hour later with steam coming out of his ears. He claimed he had some studying to do.

Lauren and I spoke about her love for the French language, which she spoke fluently, what books she liked to read and who her favorite poets were.

‘I love poetry because it’s so deep,’ she said. ‘But I sometimes wonder if I think about things
too
deeply.’

‘I have that problem. I question everything.’

‘It’s the poet’s burden, I suppose. But it can be dangerous to think too much.’

‘What do you mean?’ I finished the last dregs of my pint.

‘Well, although I have a tendency to think a lot, I never let deep-thinking get me down. If we start wondering why we’re here, whether there’s life after death and, if not, what is the point in existence, we’ll get depressed.’

‘But if people didn’t question things, there’d be no such thing as poetry,’ I said.

‘Well, as long as the poets don’t drown in their sorrows. That’s what usually happens when people question too much, and realize they’ll never know all the answers.’

‘You sound like you’ve thought a lot about this subject.’

‘Like I said, I’m a deep thinker.’ Her eyes glistened like moonlit oceans, despite the dim lighting.

‘I’m guessing you’d describe yourself as a generally happy person.’ I loosened my shirt collar.

‘
Le meilleur vin a sa lie
. But yeah, I guess I’m happy most of the time. But you’re incurably romantic, and that gets you down sometimes.’

‘You think so?’

‘Yes, and you’ve had your heart broken. You’re a sad little puppy who dwells on silly teenage love.’

‘You’re either a mind reader or a shrink. And you’ve never had your heart broken?’

I wasn’t sure if digging up past relationships was a good idea on a first date, but her forwardness intrigued me.

‘Not really…’ She gazed into my eyes and placed a finger on my lips. ‘I think we’re gonna get on fine. This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.’

‘Do hope so, kid.’

Even though I was a soppy bastard, I didn’t know if I believed in love at first sight. But I could certainly feel myself falling at that moment. I’d been falling since I first caught sight of Lauren sunbathing in Gorsedd Gardens. I wanted nothing more than to unravel her, to discover her secrets, to hold and cherish her. It would be difficult not to rush things.

Amy and Chloe left an hour earlier than we did. I walked Lauren back to her flat. The empty streets stretched under the tranquil moonlight and lazy-pacing clouds. We held hands and chatted together, our steps echoing through the cool air. Holding hands is usually a big deal in my book, but everything was so natural with her, even though we barely knew each other. Her fingers locked into mine and it just felt right, even on a first date. I knew then that I wanted her to be mine, officially and unequivocally mine.

‘I’ve had a lovely night.’ She smiled widely as we stopped outside her flat.

‘Me too. I hope you enjoyed reading me.’ I pulled her towards me, my lips brushing against hers.

‘I hope you’ll let me read another chapter. When are you taking me out?’ she asked as we parted.

‘How about tomorrow?’

‘What shall we do?’

‘Whatever you like.’

‘Oh, c’mon, Daniel. You make the decision!’ She giggled, resting her thumbs against the corners of my lips.

‘How about I take you out for a meal?’

‘Nah. I’d get fat.’

‘Um, okay…’

‘I’d like to go to the cinema,’ she said.

‘Now you’re the one making the decision!’

‘Ah, it happens.’

‘The cinema sounds good.’

‘Then I’ll see you tomorrow.’

I got home late, but my mother was still sitting in the living room, draped in darkness and silence.

‘How come you’re still up?’ I asked her.

‘I couldn’t sleep.’

‘So you thought you’d sit downstairs alone like a weirdo!’ I chuckled.

‘Yeah, that’s right.’ She rubbed her weary eyes. ‘How was your night?’

‘Brilliant.’

‘Really?’

‘Mum, I’ve met the most amazing girl. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I really think she could be the one.’

‘What’s her name?’

‘Lauren.’

‘Hmm, pretty name.’ My mother nodded approvingly.

‘That’s what I told her.’

‘You’re all loved up now then, huh?’

I laughed.

‘It’s nice to see you smiling, Daniel.’

‘You’ve been in a funny mood again, haven’t you?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Sitting downstairs on your own. What’ve you been thinking about?’

‘The same things I think about when I’m lying in bed on my own.’ She sighed.

‘And what things are they?’

‘Nothing interesting. Just life in general, really. I wonder if this is it, if this is all there is to life.’

‘You shouldn’t question things too much,’ I repeated Lauren’s sentiment.

‘What is life without questions?’

‘Life has few answers.’

‘You’d have to stop writing your poems.’

‘Maybe. I’m going to bed now. I think you should as well.’

‘I will. Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight, mum.’

‘Oh, and Daniel?’

‘Yeah?’

‘I hope things go well with this girl.’ She winked at me.

‘Thanks. Sleep tight.’

I fell into the comforting darkness under my blanket, while dreaming about Lauren and wondering how things would go with her. Moonlight bathed my satin bed sheets, the pale rays slowly retreating as the yolk-like morning sun rose over the horizon, signaling the beginning of a new day, and the end of a perfect night.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Every New Beginning

Over the following few weeks, I took Lauren out for food, bowling and to the cinema. We went to see a comedy film. She laughed all the way through it, and I laughed at her laughing even though the film was crap. Dating can be awkward. At first, it feels like you’re treading on eggshells. You’ve got to be careful with what you say and do,
have to make sure you don’t offend this person you don’t know. You’re exploring foreign terrain. And there’s always an underlying curiosity and sexual tension. Every little touch, when her arm accidentally brushes against yours, when she leans closer to you and reveals her cleavage, sends a thousand fleeting thoughts fizzing through your head. The tension with Lauren could be unbearable at times, but we were patient. I had some barriers up after Lisa. That relationship had hurt like hell. I wanted to take it slow, really get to know this girl before committing to a label as significant and daunting as ‘relationship’, but circumstances wouldn’t allow that. I didn’t need those barriers anymore, didn’t need a safety net. Lauren and I weren’t out to hurt each other.

We’d been pretty pissed on our first date, so it was different seeing each other sober at the beginning. Alcohol loosens inhibitions. I’d been on myriad dates during university, and the dating game felt like a perpetual hamster wheel in which I got bashed about and inadvertently shit all over myself. There was no girl like Lisa, no girl I could feel comfortable with. I’d made a lot of mistakes, spent most dates talking about myself or my ex, without realizing that that didn’t go down well with the opposite sex. By the time I met Lauren, I was a scholar when it came to the wheel. All those pointless unromantic meals and days out with girls I’d compared to Lisa had paid off. All those awkward moments, the constant feeling of dejection, had prepared me. I maintain that if we’d met a few months before, when I was an amateur dater still moping over my ex, nothing would have happened between us. She’d have dropped me like all the other girls had, left me stammering away like the Frank Spencer of dating dexterity I once was. Ripeness is everything.

Lauren and I usually people watched, chatted about the other diners sitting around us, and imagined their life stories. That got us through the inevitable awkward silences that come when you’re first getting to know someone. But those silences became less frequent, and it wasn’t long until we felt totally relaxed in each other’s company, to the extent that we adopted cute nicknames and spoke to each other in that mushy language (similar to baby talk) that loved up couples use. It’s funny looking back: I used to get so nervous waiting for her to arrive. I’d stand next to these bronze statues of an immigrant couple in Cardiff Bay, overlooking the water, bright lights twinkling in the distance, traveling through the darkness. And I’d be shitting myself. What if the date didn’t go well? Yeah sure, what’s the worst that can happen blah blah, but we’ve all seen those Dr Pepper adverts. What if we didn’t really have anything in common? All those thoughts I’d spent on her would be wasted. Another false dawn, hope built on sand. What if she didn’t even come? I’d check my phone. Was she going to text, tell me she was going to be late? It would drive me wild when she didn’t reply to a text straight away, but she wasn’t like other girls. I couldn’t stand it when girls played games when it came to texting back. If a girl pretended to be aloof it wouldn’t hook me in at all. I just wouldn’t bother. But Lauren always messaged me back once she got the opportunity. She knew she had me hooked from the start.

I believe there’s someone out there for everyone. Sometimes, a relationship isn’t meant to last. But eventually the right person comes along. Each relationship is a steppingstone, another lesson leading us up the garden path and towards the right partner. At times we linger on a certain stone, often for too long. The lessons aren’t always obvious, and through the tears and heartbreak it’s hard to discern any good. Some people endure more lessons than others. But Lauren and I knew we were meant to be together, even at that young age. Everything fitted into place, like the final couplet of a sonnet, or the last touch to a canvas.

Life had never been so untroubled. Michael and I joined a rugby team, but we were always careful not to bruise our faces, in case it compromised our theatrical roles! We made more progress with the acting lark. We’d played decent roles on stage, albeit in amateur plays, since joining the actor’s union, and did clothes modeling for catalogues, which made Michael’s ego even bigger. We were sure people in the business would eventually stand up and take notice of us. It became difficult to balance my university lectures with acting, but I worked hard. Michael and I had been in a few plays together, and we always competed over who could land the larger role. One director told him off for refusing to lose to me in a fencing duel, during a production of
Hamlet
. I’d played the prince himself, while Michael played Laertes, a character justly killed by his own treachery.

I’m in the pub with the rugby lads,

swigging cider and still regretting

that Mars bar I decided to eat

for
a challenge (which didn’t

go
down well with the
Guinness
),

and our captain says,

‘
I hear you do a bit of acting?’

Nice one, Jonathon
, I think to myself.

Tell these brick-shouldered,

shower-sharing Spartans that I’m

a thespian
!

But I
’ve had a drink, the scrum-half