Wanderway

Wanderway:

I felt so young, and ill-at-ease in my smart, trim-fitting suit as I uncomfortably faltered towards my recent acquaintance’s shiny sleek Jaguar. As I approached, he stepped out through the rear nearside door and with a sweep of his arm invited me into his chauffeur-driven automobile. These were the symbols of the most affluent Christopher Stafford, some haply social climber with whom I had exchanged thoughts on certain fields relevant to his area of doctorate research upon our chance meeting beside the tracks of Lime Street Railway Station. We developed an instant affinity, particularly curious; a university freshman and a high-flying academic with duly well-aimed prospects. Delighted to have met me, and anxious to continue a friendship, he had invited me to accompany him to a dinner ball of the highest formality.

So I had acquiesced, and soon we were entering the halls of an out-of-town mansion to the sound of chamber music and refined chatter; a butler took my coat and gloves and Christopher's invitation. My hand shook slightly as I took a crystal champagne-glass in my left hand and advanced to make myself known, as advised by my friend, to the wider circle of lords and ladies. I reminded myself always to keep good posture, and never to sip my drink. I took up a standing position beside one white column of an archway, apprehensive to an extent, but desirous of observation. Presently, a distinguished middle-aged gentleman approached with a young lady whom I presume to be his daughter. Introductions were made, and to my anxiety, the elder left! Yet we got on famously, and promised to see one another again.

She kissed my cheek as the evening ended, and I departed uplifted, in one of a veritable swarm of top-class vehicles.

Two days later…

The spattering of raindrops on the already-drenched pavement and the misty hiss of cars cruising lethargically down the road were the only sounds that reached my cold, numb ears in the early evening of a chill damp Monday on the corner of an autumnal town street. Sodden leaves stuck to the feet of passers-by as they hurried, windswept and wet, to their various respective homes; yet in all the people hurrying by, still the one I most wanted to see refused to appear. And as the time passed and not the girl, my soaking skin and uncomfortable wet-hat-covered head told me to go home, and home I went.

I stood likewise on the second day fruitlessly hopeful, and again on the third. Wednesday evening, indubitably one of my worse, I told myself as I dripped beneath a shadow-ridden sky that in turn dripped on me. Three times I had waited for a young lady I had met but once, and so far twice snubbed; not by the lady but by some cruel fate that withheld her passage down this, her usual route home. But then! I saw her. Hunched coatless beneath an ineffectual umbrella, she shuffled daintily, so beautiful, so tender... I ran over and threw my raincoat about her, taking her umbrella such as to protect her and not myself.

We spent the evening with cocoa and friendship, and she somewhy agreed to have dinner with me the following night.

Three months on…

I strode purposefully along a dusty dark avenue with rustling leaves brushing nostalgically about my chilly feet. I wrapped my long jacket tight around my chest, and breathed out a small cloud of vapour mist that dissipated quickly in the cold evening air. I was just rounding a corner near to where I was heading, when I saw a young woman coming the opposite direction, her sylphlike form drifting in and out of the hazy peach-coloured lamplight. I darted swiftly and silently into a shadow-covered doorway and stayed there as she wandered past, hardly daring to breath for fear of her seeing me. But I was safe, and as she passed, I slipped out of my hiding-place and began to drift phantasmagorically after her. I was no more than ten paces behind her...

She suddenly spun round, saw me and a scream escaped her lips before it metamorphosed into a high laugh, and a broad enchanted grin overtook her sweet small features. The young lady leapt into my firm embrace and we held each other for a while. From there, I took her straight out to dinner in a quiet Italian restaurant on the edge of town. There was nothing I loved more than to surprise her with something she loved - and there was nothing she loved more than me. Our evening was a memory made for remembering long in the future, a warm affectionate time to be watched in the mind's eye by the light of a roaring fire when thinking back to the time when youth was on the nearer side of the hill.

I knew this was the real thing.

Eighteen months since we met…

... I was sitting at home, waiting for time to pass, and passing it was. Ten minutes more and she would be home and I could feel complete again. The hands of the clock swung their final arc and bells rang out as the front door clicked with a key in its lock and was pushed open by the most beautiful and lovely and pleasant woman I knew. I was excited, joyful, calm... this was the woman I had promised to spend my life with, the one who had given me peace and happiness and - dare I allow myself to think it - love. Entering our home and calling a swift but caring greeting, she headed upstairs. I knew she would be coming down again soon. I eased myself out of the armchair.

Softly pulling the front door closed behind me, I slipped the car keys out of my pocket and myself into the driving seat. I allowed the sleek vehicle to drift from the drive, out onto the quiet suburban street, then, gunning the motor to spinning life both it and I accelerated to the speed limit and rolled away through avenue after avenue that led me further and further from closeness. Onto the highway I drove, and it felt like I was driving a stake into the deepest part of my heart but I realised that the only thing I was driving was my car. Another step, another choice... going home again to what I knew best.

Those who...

Ten minutes later…

One foot in the past and both hands on the wheel heading out of town, I knew this was everything I remembered from the life I’d never had and nothing to do with all I had to forget about what little of my life there was to change. I could see the first rays of the pale dawn sun tantalising the shadows on the rugged hills beside me as my car rode the freeway like a greyhound a track, and pushing forward to see more clearly all that lay behind I began to disappear out of my past life and into my future.

My mind was dulled by the sleepless night I’d had, yet waking slowly, my mind began to drift back to the previous night… then to the day before… then the day I’d met her. It all fell neatly into place and I again affirmed I had made the right decision. Through my head ran a song, and in my heart a wandering musician began to play the descant to the mournful melody whispering its rhythms through the draughty sinews of my memory.

I cast my mind back…

The End