Phil Kurthausen - The Silent Pool

She held open a door.

The reception room was different from the hall. Instead of white walls and oak floors this room was an explosion of primary colours and soft furnishings. Jenna gestured towards a sofa and Erasmus sat down. Jenna took a seat on the same couch, turning to face him. She was so close her thigh was brushing the top of Erasmus’ leg.

He took a deep breath. He was here to give her bad news and he would do it professionally and then leave, he told himself.

‘What can I get you?’

Erasmus declined the offer of a drink. The truth was he didn't want Jenna to move from right where she was sat. She, however, got up anyway and went across to a drinks cabinet in the corner of the room. She fixed herself a long slug of neat Absolut over ice and then sat back down next to him. There was an awkward silence for a moment.

Erasmus tried to focus on something else. On the coffee table there was a large book. Erasmus picked it up and looked at the cover: Architecture – the Masterworks by Will Pryce.

‘Is Theo into architecture?’

‘It's mine actually. First a housewife and now assuming this must be Theo's? Shame on you.’

Erasmus started to blush but then he saw that Jenna's lips were upturned and a mischievous glint was in her eye.

She took the book from Erasmus’ hands and flicked through its pages. Then she shut it sharply and placed it back on the table.

‘A housewife doesn't have much use for architecture,’ she said, and for the first time there was a hint of frustration in her tone.

‘You sound resentful.’

She sipped her drink and looked away from him into middle distance.

‘I was Stephen's first girlfriend and he married me. It sounds so old-fashioned in this day and age but that is the way Stephen has always been. He loved me from the first moment he saw me. He has always been sure and free of doubt.’

‘And you? Are you the same?’

‘Not at all. I am full of doubt, always have been. Stephen wasn't my first real boyfriend either.’

‘Where did you two meet?’

‘I met him at university, Manchester Met.’

‘Let me guess, your eyes met over a pint of snakebite?’

Jenna picked up the book again and placed it on her knees.

‘Not quite. I was a third-year Architecture student and he was a first-year Theology major. We were oil and water.’

‘So how did you meet?’

She sighed.

‘He rescued me.’

‘From what?’

‘From myself. I enjoyed University. I grew up five miles from here in a dirt-poor part of this city and education was the only way out for me. I knew this from an early age so I ignored everything and concentrated on learning. I played by the rules and I was rewarded. I got my A-levels and I went to university.’

‘So, what happened? Why did you need rescuing?’

Jenna looked away, when she turned back to face Erasmus any hint of playfulness had disappeared.

‘I fell in love.’

‘With Stephen?’

Jenna flipped open the book that was resting on her lap.

‘No, not with Stephen, with Dietrich. He was a visiting professor, he drank coffee not lager and smoked Turkish cigarettes, he talked passionately of ideas and not the latest indie pop band sensation. He was, as I imagined, all that university would be. I felt like I had finally met someone who understood what life was about.’

She was smiling now.

‘But you ended up with Stephen?’

Her fingers played with a small St Christopher that hung around her neck.

‘Dietrich was always honest with me. He told me that we were “lovers” and not tied to each other. I agreed but of course I had fallen head over heels in love with him.’

‘Did you tell him that?’

‘God no! He would have been off like a shot. “Love” to Dietrich was a materialist invention of the decadent bourgeoisie.’

‘So, how did it end?’

‘I got pregnant. When I told Dietrich he was very serious, but businesslike, as though this were an occupational hazard. I don't think it was the first time for him. He told me he would get it fixed. The next day he met me at the Student Union bar. I thought – and looking back, I just want to hold the young girl who could have believed this – I thought, he was going to ask me to marry him. Instead, he handed me an envelope with £750 inside and a card for an abortion clinic. And that was the end of my dreaming days.’

‘Nice piece of work.’

‘I was devastated. I threw the money back at him and ran from the bar. I didn't know what to do. My dad had died when I was a teenager and my mother just watched daytime TV and drank. I ran through from the bar and didn't stop running until I came to the college chapel. It was just a small room with plastic chairs and no religious iconography, and I was never religious, but that quiet room allowed me to stop and think. And I prayed, Erasmus, I don't know who or what to but I asked for help and the next person to enter that room was Stephen. He was the chair of the Student Catholic Society and he was there to set up the room for a prayer meeting. He saw me crying and he knew what to do straightaway, he came and held me and told me everything would be OK.’

Tears were beading in Jenna's deep brown eyes.

‘And was it?’

‘After a fashion, yes. I was with Stephen from that moment. He helped me through the pregnancy. I had to drop out of college, of course, but I had a family of sorts, Stephen and the other members of the Catholic Society. All my old friends thought I was mad, that I had become indoctrinated but that wasn't the case, I just felt wanted by them, secure.’

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