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ROCKED BY THE WAVES Page 2


  When dad and Renny came home it was late. I kissed and hugged them, then I went to sleep. But I couldn’t.

  On the following morning the air was chill. Still the day promised to be beautiful. After lunch, dad and Renny went to work and Lizzie came over. She was overexcited because of the match. James came pick us up, but, as Lizzie pointed out, he seemed to be disappointed. Of course he was, he wanted to be alone with me. We got into James’ new car.

  When we got to the field, he went to get changed. Lizzie and I sat in the stands. They were packed with a variety of people. Everyone was chattering while they waited for the match to start.

  CHAPTER 2

  PLAYING WITH FIRE

  Rugby was invented by chance. A student from Rugby, while playing football, picked the ball with his hands and crossed the playfield. He hurled the ball down and then he shouted: «Touch down!» and that was it. Young men were attracted by this new game and all of a sudden it became popular.

  I was watching a rugby match for the first time. Players were running, panting and hurting each other. It all in order to get the chance to shout: «Touch down!».

  It was horrible, but James was right. Rugby was much funnier and dynamic than football.

  I was wearing a blue dress that had golden embroideries all over it. In ancient Rome – and in ancient Greece as well – blue was associated with the barbarians’ eyes. It was not a fashionable nor a classy colour. But I was one of the barbarians, after all, and my eyes suited the dress incredibly well. Furthermore, my pale skin matched just perfectly with my outfit. The corset was way too tight, but it made me look skinny and even taller. My black hair was tied up in a chignon. The light pink lipstick made me look younger. I was feeling charming.

  Almost every man was staring at me. I pretended not to notice that, but Lizzie’s words came to my mind anyway. Clumsiness. That was it.

  I was busy watching the match, when I suddenly noticed someone. A man. He was standing away from the crowd and there was a very big and black dog next to him. Every girl was staring at the man.

  He was beautiful and elegant, but he seemed to be headed elsewhere. I looked at him carefully. I could see his bright blue eyes. He had a squared face and his beard was golden. His hair was blonde and wavy. I liked his shoulders. He must have been pretty tall and athletic. He had a tan, even though it was March. I stared at him. I had never seen anyone like him before.

  He didn’t notice me. He didn’t really seem to take notice of anybody. He was enjoying the match in a very nonchalant way. He used to turn to the dog every so often and caress him or talk to him.

  I took a deep breath and decided to ask Lizzie if she knew him. I asked her about other men first and after chattering for a while, I got to the point.

  «Who’s the man over there? I’m sure I’ve seen him somewhere else, but I can’t recall where».

  I was lying, but I wanted to know some more about him and that was the only way. I had tried to seem detached, though. I was secretly fidgeting to know some more.

  «You mean the man with the dog?»

  «Yes».

  «That’s Alexander Wilson. He’s the only heir of Lord Wilson. He is said to be an awkward man; he’s always on his own. He lives in Chelsea, in a very big house. No one has entered the building after his father’s death. His mother was French, but she disappeared when he was a child. No one knows anything about her. It was a big scandal, anyway. Some said she had run away, others used to swear she was dead. No one has seen her since. It’s been twenty years now. He travels a lot, especially to France. He owns a house in Paris, but I’m pretty sure he travels to the South as well. You don’t get to bump into him very oftern in London. I have no idea where you could have met him. He’s handsome, isn’t he? He scares me. His eyes have got something... Oh, just don’t waste your time with him».

  «I was just being curious, that’s it».

  «You never are, Claire. Curious, I mean. So I presume that your asking about all those people was just to get to Mr Wilson, right?»

  «My word, you’re impossible. I was just chattering».

  «I’ve known you forever, Claire. If you have an interest for Alexander Wilson, just forget about it. I’m your friend, trust me».

  «Can we talk about something else? Look, James just did a touch down».

  We started talking about James, but I was still thinking about Alexander Wilson. What kind of man was he? A fourteen-year-old boy approached him. The boy whispered him something, then Mr Wilson stood up and they went away. I was disappointed.

  As he went away, though, I got to notice he was really classy and handsome. His shoulders and his hair... The thought of me being clumsy stuck me. Clumsiness was not a quality that could win him over. I should act in some other way, if I wanted him to take notice of me.

  I had lost any interest in the match by then. I was too busy thinking about things I was not used to think about. Was he engaged? What should I do? How could I manage to meet him again? Would I be able to make him fall for me?

  As we were going home, Lizzie kept chattering about this and that. I just nodded once in a while and hummed when it seemed appropriate to.

  But Lizzie took notice of that - she knew me too well. She pretended not to, though. James came over and I smiled politely as he started telling us about his touch down. When Lizzie mentioned Alexander Wilson, I came to my senses all of a sudden.

  «You know, James, Claire spotted Mr Wilson. He was standing alone and I hadn’t noticed him, but she seems to have sort of a crush on him. We have something to celebrate! Your touch down and her crush».

  James was open-mouthed. His ears went red and he stared at me.

  «You told me young women must do something with their life before getting engaged».

  James’ voice was ice cold.

  «What a big word! Crush... I just asked who he was. I did it with other people as well. Lizzie is exaggerating, as she always does», I replied, trying to seem natural. My cheeks went pink, though.

  As Lizzie started laughing and James calmed down, we got into the car. As we got home, I said goodbye at once. My head was hurting terribly bad.

  Renny was home and dad was still at work. I was happy to have Renny for myself because I needed to talk to him. I could always tell him anything. No matter what, he used to cheer me up and give me good advices. I really needed to share my thoughts with him at the moment. That reminded me of the day he had told me about Robert. It had been sweet. I had confessed him I was charmed by the pureness of their love and would have loved to live something like that sooner or later. I had never loved anyone. He had hugged me and told me to be patient. Someday, I would find my prince charming.

  So I told him about Mr Wilson and that I feared not to see him again.

  We were sitting on my bed and chattering, when we heard the bell ringing. Our maid came up the stairs and knocked on the door. As she came in, she was holding the most beautiful bouquet. Roses. They smelt incredibly good.

  «I didn’t mean to disturb, but they’ve just been delivered», she said. Then she went away.

  A note came with the roses. Two letters, nothing more. «A.W.». I was so shocked I must have turned pale.

  «Sweetheart, are you okay? Is this from James?», he asked. I didn’t answer, I just gave him the note. Renny read it, they he stared at me.

  «He must have noticed you, after all. I’m sure you’ll meet him again».

  «Please don’t tell Lizzie. And don’t tell James».

  «You know I love you and I won’t tell him, but you should. You should tell him you don’t love him. Having goals to achieve before getting engaged is just an excuse, we both know that. He is going to find that out anyway. You’ve known him for ten years and he has loved you for ten years. Do you think I hadn’t noticed? I surely did and so did others. You don’t care about him, that’s it. So, please, tell him».

  Tears started pouring out of my eyes. It was all true. I was being selfish. I loved James very much and
I couldn’t live without him, but he was a friend to me. That was it. I loved his kindness and he was really handsome. I knew many young women would have married him at once, if only they had gotten the chance. I was keeping him under my spell, somehow, and he didn’t deserve that. I didn’t want him to have a girlfriend, but I had to accept the fact the he would have one sooner or later, and that it would not be me. I just didn’t want to lose him, to lose his friendship. My brother had understood that. I knew I should have done what Renny was telling me to do. But how could I live without James’ support and love? Would he still be my friend? Would friendship be enough to him? How would he feel about me getting an interest in someone else?

  I spent the whole night overthinking. I thought about Renny’s words, about James and... well, I daydreamt about Alexander Wilson. I was stuck. How could he have lived his childhood without a mother? I suddenly recalled what people used to say about his father. He was a very strict man. Had Alexander Wilson been close to him? Had his mother run away because of Mr Wilson’s strictness? Maybe she had decided to go back to France. And maybe it was because of that that Alexander Wilson travelled so much, maybe he needed to run away too. Maybe memories were too painful to live with. I finally fell asleep.

  On the morning after, I woke up feeling that it had all been a dream. But then I saw the roses. Thay reminded me I had a few things to take care of...

  I carefully chose what to wear. I picked my best corset - the one that made me seem skinny -, I picked my best tights and I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I wore a white blouse and a skirt. I then picked my high heeled boots, a jacket and my umbrella. I shut the entrance door behind me and there he was. He was standing outside my house. He looked at me with his big blue eyes and then he smiled. His tan made him look even more handsome.

  «Good morning, Miss Thompson. May I call you Claire?»

  I seemed to be unable to answer. He looked at me in a funny way as I shook my head. I would have liked to scream: «You can call me anything you wish!»

  I had no idea how to behave. All my selfconfidence had gone and I was humming things I didn’t quite understand myself to the only man on Earth I wanted to make an impression on.

  He was a gentleman, though, so he offered me his arm and pretended not to notice my humming.

  «May I walk with you, Claire?»

  Of course he might. I liked his manners and I liked him more and more.

  «You might, Alex. May I call you Alex?»

  He laughed.

  «You might. So, do you have any plans for today?»

  I told him I had friends waiting for me. We still had to manage the money for the children, actually, and we needed to choose a school for most of them. Some of them were way too old to begin school, so we were thinking of picking some artisan that could take care of them and teach them a profession. I feared it would all sound boring to him, but that was what I did. It was a typical day to me. I wanted to know some more about him, anyway. I was pretty interested in his life and I wanted to talk to him for as long as I could.

  It started raining all of a sudden, but I was too hypnotised by his lips to take notice of that. Alex opened the umbrella and we kept on walking. I had a billion questions to ask him and I was happy, because I had not expected to be able to talk to him so soon. The question that really mattered to me was: «Are you engaged?», but I just couldn’t ask him. It was way too soon for such a speech.

  We got to the twins’ house and we knocked. As we came in, the girls stared at him. They were clearly stuck to see him and I feared that they were all under Mr Wilson’s spell. He charming, he really was, and they had notice that.

  It was just a matter of hours, I thought, before James heard the news. People would soon be gossiping about us. Renny was right, I should talk to James as soon as possible. I didn’t want him to know from others that Alex and I had come to the twins’ house together.

  When Alex asked me to have lunch together, I stared at him.

  «You mean at your house?», I whispered.

  His eyes were right in front of mine. They were so blue.

  «I’m not sure a bench in the park would be a suitable alternative. It’s our first date, after all».

  First date. He had really said those words. I liked it, but... was I the first girl he had asked out? Or was I just one among the others?

  I had been told no one had entered the Wilsons’ house for years. I was sure of that, because anyone entering the house would have been chattering about that for months. So what shall I do?

  «Okay, let’s go», I said.

  It was a huge three-floor white building. It was surrounded by a perfect garden, packed with flowers.

  There were even a greenhouse and a patio. A beautiful and enormous rocking chair had been put in front of the veranda. It was topped with a white and blue piece of cloth.

  The white gate was striking and I loved the place. It was very clear that the neighbourhood was a wealthy one.

  The veranda gave access to the house, which seemed to have dozens of rooms. It was all very clean and elegant. I gave my jacket and my umbrella to the maid, then we were served lunch. A small table filled with cheese, bread and fruit was standing in the middle of the room. It all looked as if it had been carefully arranged. I wondered whether Alex had foreseen that I would have accepted his invitation or if he was accustomed to having female guests for lunch. I didn’t care about that anyway, so we sat and started eating. It was all very relaxed and spontaneous. We talked about my mom, Margherita. She was from Rome, but she had come to England to marry my dad. She was beautiful and she came from a noble family while my father was a rich merchant. He was not a noble. They had gotten married because of love, not because of family arrangements.

  She loved art and she used to receive artists of any kind. When she died, she had left a huge empty space in our family.

  Alex told me about his father, who was said to be was a strict man. His mother had died when he was very young.

  Then I asked him who was the boy that I had seen at the match.

  «His name is Hari. He’s the housekeeper’s son. She died and he was left alone. He had always lived here, so I decided to let him stay. He is a smart boy, so I let him study. He sometimes accompanies me when I travel, because he seems to be particularly keen on foreign languages. I’m sure he could become a good interpreter».

  «What countries have you been to?», I asked.

  «I’ve been to many places, but the one I love the most is France. I often go back there and I think I’d love to live in Paris someday. I own a house there, it’s near Saint Sulpice. I might buy an estate in the South».

  «Why do you like France so much?», I ask suspiciously.

  I was jealous. French women were known to be attractive and they were also known to be especially good at seducing men.

  «I’m keen on tales. Very old tales».

  Tales? I couldn’t really picture him reading books and solving ancient mysteries. He was too charming for such a lonely past time. But I knew him very poorly and, to be honest, he didn’t seem to be very interested in people. Well, except for me. His interest in me seemed to be an exception to the rule.

  «How old?»

  «Old enough to have been forgotten by almost everyone», he said smiling.

  «Please, tell me some more about it. I like tales».

  He looked at me carefully and I felt like he was evaluating me. Then he seemed to take a decision.

  «Not now. We’ll talk about that some other day. I’ve been boring enough for one day».

  Boring? But I was just beginning to find out some more about him! I could sense he had a much more complex personality than I had expected. He was beautiful, charming and even mysterious.

  It was early afternoon by then and I had been out the whole day. He therefore offered to walk me home and I accepted. It had been an intense day but it turned out that something more was about to happen. As we got to my house, we found that James was sitting
on the rocking chair in the garden. He had been waiting for me.

  «Good to see you, Claire! I had no idea where you were and I was beginning to worry. Who’s your friend?»

  His voice got to my nerves, as I believe he intended it to. He knew very well who my friend was, but I introduced them anyway. James kept being nasty, but Alex made his excuses and went away.

  «Did you really have to be that nasty? You were very impolite! Alex went away because if you».

  «I think it’s time we talked about our feelings, Claire».

  «We’ve got nothing to talk about. I love you dearly and always will, but as a friend. That’s it».

  «Good to know that. So let’s talk about Alex, as you call him. How do you feel about him?»

  «I don’t know that. Not yet. It’s complicated. And I’m sorry, I don’t want things to get so... awkward between you and me. I knew we had to have this conversation, but I didn’t want it to be like that».

  «So you’re telling me you have fallen for someone you barely know? And that I am just a friend to you?»

  «Yes».

  «Very well. I’see you tomorrow then».

  He walked away without even saying goodbye. I was unsure about how I felt about that. Was I feeling any better? Was I feeling guilty?

  I got to my room and unzipped my corset. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, trying to find something that could look attractive to Alex. I didn’t succeed anyway, because I found that every part of my body was just really ordinary. But I knew nothing about men, after all. I was suddenly stuck by the thought of our conversation about old tales. Why didn’t he want to tell me anything about it?

  While having dinner, I told everything about my day to both dad and Renny. When I got to James’ part, my brother looked at me as if he would have wanted to say: «Didn’t I tell you?». Yes, he had told me and he had been right.

  After dinner a beautiful fleur-de-lis bouquet was delivered. A note that said: «Tomorrow night, the Carmen. Will you come with me? AW» came with it.

  On the morning after I sent Alex a reply. I accepted his invitation and told him I would be waiting for him to pick me up. He sent a second note saying he would be there at 18.30; we would have dinner together and then go to the theatre.