“Just a sec.” I try to unwedge my foot from one of the coat racks.
“It’s okay,” she whispers. “Let me help.”
When she reaches for my belt buckle, my hand moves almost automatically to cover her fingers, stopping her.
Since losing my virginity, at age fifteen, I’ve done this too many times, in every conceivable location, floors, beds, tables, chairs, on trains and ships. It’s always felt natural. Now, it feels so wrong, nothing has ever feltwronger.
Katherine senses this and pulls away.
“I’m sorry.”
“No need.” She smiles good naturedly. “I don’t think we fit.”
I push up from the floor and search around for the rest of my clothes.
Liam, it seems, has ruined casual sex for me. Now I’m free to shag everyone in sight, I find that even the memory of holding Lessa’s hand excites me more. Her voice when she called my name, the feel of her body even beneath thick winter clothes when we hugged, a whiff of her natural smell when she passed me on the stairs.
By comparison, a quick and easy fumble with a beautiful stranger feels like drinking from the sea. It might look like water but ultimately leaves you thirstier than before. Having tasted real intimacy, nothing else compares.
“You’re in love, aren’t you?” Katherine moves to the other side of the room and starts packing away her performance clothes. “That’s why it...” She glances towards the floor where we tried – and failed – to have sex.
I perch on the windowsill and watch her fold her sparkly gown into a zip bag. “Yes.” It feels like such relief to admit it out loud.
“Where is she?”
“I lost her.”
I find my oboe case and place it on the floor next to the suit carrier where I packed my tux.
“The thing is,” I find myself saying, needing to confess, even to a stranger. “I can’t seem to forget her. Not even the smallest detail of our life together, what little there was of it. Too little.”
Katherine, when I finally look at her, is staring at the floor. Her hands rub along her arms.
I rush to explain. “No, no, she’s alive. I mean. I lost my chance. I let her go and didn’t fight for her.”
“Oh.” Katherine sounds relieved, but her face is still troubled.
There is some pain there. A year ago, I’d have minded my own business and avoided anything to do with pain.
I go to stand in front of her and wait for her to meet my eyes. Her lashes are wet. I take her hand and squeeze it. “You can tell me if you want to.”
“Do you know why I agreed to sing for that man’s wedding?” Her voice shakes.
The question takes me by surprise. “Why?”
“I was in love once. We met at the Guildhall; both of us were students. Then I got my big break and left without him. We agreed to wait, and I always promised to go back to him after the next season. Or the next. But there was always a reason, a new job, a tour, a festival. We never knew…” She sniffs. “He had a weak heart and he died. I…I waited too long. So now when someone offers me a gig like that, I say yes and donate the fee to research into heart disease.”
We all donate to charity. But I remember Liam’s words:Do something to help someone in trouble. And no, I don’t mean give money to charity. Give your time, a part of yourself.It’s what Katherine does, giving up her time, saying yes to obnoxious performances for the sake of heart disease.
“Thank you for being so sweet.” She rises on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek.
Lessa did that the first night I met her. Lessa who tried so hard to develop a scheme to help people in need.
And what have I done tonight? I played half an hour of music that scared an old woman.
The confused look on her face when we playedHappy Birthdaythat sounded more like yawling foxes. It gives me an idea.
I tug Katherine’s hand. “Do you want to break the rules and do something fun?”
