Jennie Ensor - The Girl in His Eyes

‘Emma told me she’s been picked for the school netball team,’ he said.

‘Yes, she’s over the moon. She’ll have to practise every week and play matches on the weekend – I just hope she can keep it up. There’s been quite a change in her lately, she seems to be coming out of herself, thank goodness. The other day she told me she wants to go to sessions at the local drama school.’

That could be inconvenient. With netball and drama school, he’d never get to see her.

Jane tapped the ash off her cigarette and looked directly at him.

‘Paul, I do appreciate you making the time to help Emma like this… keep out of there, Toby! We’ll be eating dinner in an hour.’ He turned to see Toby rummaging in the fridge.

‘It’s no trouble, Jane, I told you. I enjoy taking her out.’ He took a last gulp of coffee and got to his feet. ‘Well, I’d better be going. We’re off to the theatre this evening.’

‘Oh, anything interesting?’

‘It’s a satire about married couples. Suzanne wanted to see it. Not my thing, really.’

‘Well, have fun. I wish someone was taking me to the theatre.’

‘Jane, darling, I’d love to take you to the theatre. Only Suzanne wouldn’t be too pleased.’

‘Cheeky devil!’ Jane gave him a playful thump on the arm then went to the hall and called out at the top of her voice. ‘Emma, where are you? Paul’s going! Aren’t you going to say goodbye?’

Feet thumped on the landing. A head peeped over the banister.

‘Bye Emma!’

‘Bye-eee!’ She waved back and he melted, like chocolate in warm fingers.

Jane opened the front door. ‘See you next Saturday, then.’

Paul flicked the key in the ignition and revved the engine hard. He was a devious bastard, lusting after the daughter of one of his wife’s best friends, and the poor girl barely past teddy bears.

Well, so what? Soon she’d be whisked away from him into a whirl of activities. He wouldn’t actually do anything, he’d just look. Emma enjoyed being with him, so why shouldn’t he appreciate her in return, while he still had the chance?

Laura, that’s why, piped up the spoilsport inside him. You did more than just look at Laura, didn’t you?

He pressed his foot firmly on the accelerator and closed the gap to the car in front.

He’d been lucky to get away with it. But Laura had tucked their secret safely away and hadn’t told anyone, as far as he knew. With any luck, she never would – not anyone who mattered, at any rate. He’d made sure she would never spill the beans to Suzanne. Anyway, why would she want to dredge up the past now, after all these years? Unless she guessed the temptation that Emma posed.

He shouldn’t press his luck, he knew. He should let Emma go. If he had any sense, that was what he’d do.

Paul switched on the stereo. He turned up the volume of his Best of Eric Clapton CD, loud enough to rattle the speakers, and cruised the final stretch home. Sure, he could make up some excuse as to why he couldn’t see Emma anymore. Yet how could he not see her? He couldn’t just walk away. His life would be too thin without her smiles, scowls and flounces, without the thrill of her body next to his in nothing but a thin, nearly see-through costume. Without her, he’d shrivel into a sexless old man.

Suzanne took out a tissue and mopped her face and neck, both uncomfortably hot and damp after her dash along noisy, fume-filled Wimbledon High Street. She opened the door and went inside. The room was refreshingly quiet and cool. People – mainly women – clustered around a trestle table bearing an urn and a collection of plastic cups, drinking tea and talking. The session hadn’t started yet.

A thin, unsmiling man peered at her through thick glasses.

‘Hello, PK.’

His name was either PK or KP, she couldn’t remember which. Then Zac waved at her cheerily from his solitary cross-legged position on the large, bare wooden floor. He looked as eccentric as ever with his long black ponytail and almost-as-long beard. He would often come up and hug her unexpectedly, and tell her all manner of things she would otherwise never give a moment’s thought. Last time, he’d asked her the reason why water only went one way down the plughole, the answer to which she’d forgotten. Another time, he’d told her with glee what chaos would ensue if the earth’s magnetic poles were to flip.

Suzanne hung up her coat and hurried over to the refreshment table. She returned Adele’s smile. Adele, who was taking the session that evening, had a torrent of corkscrew curls, and large, liquid eyes that always seemed to radiate kindness and generosity towards everyone. Then she noticed her friends, Carol and Jilly, chatting to each other in the corner, and went over to join them.

‘Hello, guys!’ She hugged each in turn.

‘You look puffed out, dear,’ Carol said.

‘It was fraught getting here,’ she replied. ‘The District Line was up the spout again.’

‘Will everyone please form a circle.’

It was Adele’s voice. The chatter stopped. Suzanne went into the middle of the room with the others.

‘Join hands and close your eyes. Let go of any distracting thoughts. Feel the irritations and disappointments of the day drift away. Take a deep breath… and slowly let it out.’

The background bells and chants started up. Adele’s voice continued, coolly hypnotic.

‘Feel your weight pulling your body into the ground. Feel the person on either side of you connecting you into the circle. Feel yourself unite with each person in the circle. Now, open your eyes and turn to the person on each side of you. Look into their eyes. Show that you accept them in their totality. Send them your deepest love.’

Suzanne opened her eyes with a sigh. She always disliked this part of the evening. She didn’t like the look of PK, who was now looking into her eyes with indifference verging on hostility. He had only just started coming to the meetings. Who knew what he might get up to outside of here, what bad things he might have done? Maybe everyone was worthy of love – even murderers and rapists, people she’d never be able to understand in a million years. How could she accept such a person, though, let alone love them? Trying not to look at the slack skin under his jaw, or the greasy lens of his glasses, she attempted a smile. It came out as more of a grimace, no doubt. He stared back, unsmiling.

The evening went on as usual. After the breathing exercises, the yoga, chanting and meditation, her body began to relax, lighten. Her mind lightened too, untroubled by the usual nagging worries. If only she could feel like this all the time.

Adele made some announcements about the group’s next meeting, and events coming up, then everyone was putting on coats and saying their goodbyes. 10pm already.

‘Are you going to the retreat?’ Jilly asked, as they made their way downstairs. ‘It’s going to be a cracker this year, from what I’ve heard. Adele’s found a Tibetan monk to take the meditation sessions, and there’s a healing workshop…’

Several in the group were healers or therapists of one sort or another, or hoped to be, including Jilly. She wasn’t anywhere near that stage herself, and doubted she ever would be, but she felt a tug of interest.

‘I don’t know. When is it?’

‘The second weekend of March. I’m going, so’s Carol. You ought to go, Suzy.’

It was the weekend after her silver wedding anniversary. Nothing was planned.

‘I’d love to,’ she heard herself say. ‘Paul won’t be keen on me going though.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘Oh, he doesn’t approve of all this. He thinks we’re a bunch of overgrown hippies who just want an excuse to grope each other.’