Learning to Dance Again (14 page)

‘Shut up! You’re not helping.’

‘Sorry. But I could keep my eyes shut.’

‘Yeah, right.’

Julia could not be persuaded to change her mind a
bout going for a swim even though Cameron teased her mercilessly about it. In the end she flounced back to the veranda, picked up her iPad and logged onto Facebook, listening to Cameron splashing about in the distance.

Marianne had sent her a message asking what her plans were for her birthday.

Julia sent a quick reply.

“
Going out exploring tomorrow. I’m sure it will be sunny and warm and suitably pleasant for someone of my advanced years. I think I had better put another bottle of wine in the fridge. Might need whisky too. I canna believe I’m fifty tomorrow. Shit! Where did the time go?”

The next morning Julia woke up to the sound of Cameron moving around in the next room. She glanced at her watch to see what time it was. It was far too early to get up so she turned over for another little doze.

She opened her eyes
again when she heard the outside door open and close and guessed Cameron had gone out for another swim in the pool. She put her dressing gown on and wandered out to the kitchen. The door to the veranda was closed and she opened it and stepped outside and looked around to see where Cameron was. He was nowhere to be seen. She shrugged and walked back indoors to make some coffee.

Next to the kettle was
a handwritten note:
Had some urgent business to sort out – just nipped into town, back soon. Don’t go anywhere.

Julia took advantage of his
absence to go for a quick swim, but she took the precaution of taking her kaftan to the poolside in case he returned. She swam lazily in the water, watching the wispy clouds drifting across the sky. She stretched out her legs and stared at her red painted toenails. Her legs were lean and toned from her love of walking along the beach in Shetland, and now they were pleasantly bronzed. Her tummy was held in by the Lycra of her “miracle” swimsuit, although there was much less of her to hold in, now she had lost so much weight. Marianne was right, she did look a little scrawny; but not bad for her age.

Moments after congratulating hersel
f for arriving at the age of fifty in a reasonable state, she remembered it was six months to the day that Duncan had died, at the very same age.

She heard footsteps along the path and she raced t
o the steps, scrambled out of the pool and grabbed hold of the beach towel. She dried her face and then struggled into her kaftan, almost ripping it in her haste to get covered up.

‘There you are!’

Julia looked up and saw Cameron standing at the gate, with his hand on the latch.

‘I thought I may as well have a swim while I waited for you.’

‘Don’t let me stop you.’

‘That’s OK, we can have breakfast now. Unless you already had yours?’

‘Not yet.’

He opened the gate
for her and Julia followed him back to the villa. She stopped on the veranda for a moment and wrapped the towel around her wet hair. Cameron hovered in the doorway, with a curiously guilty look on his face.

Julia walked
into the kitchen and the first thing she saw was a huge bouquet of flowers on the dining table. Giant red blooms of an unrecognisable flower along with white gerberas and blue irises.

‘Oh wow, what’s this?’

‘Happy birthday!’

‘How did you know?’

‘It was on Facebook, you idiot.’

‘Of course.
I was going to keep it a secret so you didn’t feel you had to make a fuss. But these are gorgeous; I love them.’ Julia picked up the bouquet to smell the flowers. ‘What are these red ones called?’

Cameron shrugged.

‘No idea, I just pointed to them in the shop. They looked bonny enough. Do you like the red, white and blue theme? Very patriotic eh?’

Julia smiled; thinking patriotic was preferable to romantic.

‘So where would you like to go today?’

‘I don’t know actually; you’re driving, why don’t you decide?’

Cameron wandered over
to a large framed antique map of Sicily on the wall of the lounge. He reached into his pocket and pulled out some reading glasses and studied the map for a few minutes. Julia opened and shut all the doors in the kitchen units hunting for a vase. She finally found one at the top of the cupboard, just out of her reach.

Sh
e turned to look at Cameron as he took his glasses off and put them away.

‘Right. I’
ve found the perfect place to celebrate your birthday.’

‘Where?’

‘You’ll have to wait and see. I expect we’ll need the whole day so we’d better leave soon. I might go and put some stuff in a bag, just in case the weather changes.’

‘Really? I’
ve been here for ten days already; it hasn’t changed at all.’

‘Well anyway.’

‘Could you just get this vase down for me first?’

Cameron wa
lked over and took the vase down from the shelf and set it down on the worktop. He closed the cupboard door and turned around, bumping into Julia; he put his hand on her arm as he moved out of her way.

Julia felt the w
armth of his touch, even after he had walked away. She picked up the vase and carried it to the sink to fill it with water. As the tap filled the heavy crystal vase Julia brushed her hand over the spot where Cameron had just touched her. She looked down and saw water was overflowing the vase already. She turned the tap off and emptied some of the surplus water from the vase and stood it on the draining board. She picked up the flowers, removed the cellophane and proceeded to arrange them. They were beautiful and she realised she hadn’t even said thank you to Cameron.

She put the vase in the centre of the dining table
then went to find Cameron. He was in his bedroom sitting on the bed fiddling with his phone. He looked up and smiled at her.

‘Thank you! The flowers are lovely. It was really sweet of you to go out and buy them.’

‘That’s OK. I just wanted you to have a nice birthday. I bought some more Prosecco; it’s in the fridge already, we can have it when we get back.’

Julia leaned against the doorframe and stared at Cameron for a moment. She realised she was still wearing her wet swimsuit under her kaftan.
She shifted uncomfortably, but was inexplicably reluctant to leave. She needed to get dressed, have some breakfast, get ready to go out, but she remained anchored to the door frame.

‘Everything alright Jules?’

‘Um, yeah.’ She turned to go, intending to get changed out of her wet costume.

Cameron stood up suddenly and walked towards her.

‘I know what day it is today; six months to the day,’ he said quietly. He put his hands on her shoulder; a sympathetic gesture. She shut her eyes.

‘Hey, it’s OK
, I don’t mind if you cry. Don’t feel you have to hold it all in. I know how you feel.’

She felt him pull her in
to a tight embrace. She did not resist; but she did not cry. She wrapped her arms around him, her head against his chest. She could hear his heart thudding. She listened to its regular rhythm and savoured the warmth of his body against hers. She wanted to stand still and hold on to this warm and alive body.

Cameron broke the spell at last.

‘You’re all wet!’

Julia pulled away from him and laughed when she saw the dark wet i
mprint on his pale blue shirt.

‘I’m so sorry. I really should go and get dressed.’

‘I’ll go and make breakfast then.’

Julia headed back to her room and shut the door beh
ind her and leant against it, breathing deeply. She felt a little embarrassed at the unfamiliar intimacy with Cameron. She heard the radio switch on in the kitchen and heard Cameron began singing along with Ollie Murs. She had forgotten he could sing. She wondered if he realised she could hear him. He sounded cheerful and happy. It was a little infectious.

She
decided to take a shower to wash the chlorine out of her hair. She dressed quickly, putting on a sleeveless floral dress and her new sandals. She put a pair of plimsolls into a bag, along with a cardigan and a lightweight jacket. She quickly put on makeup and spritzed on some perfume.

When she returned to the kitchen sh
e found Cameron had set out a selection of Sicilian pastries, croissants and some freshly made coffee.

‘Did you buy those today as well?’

‘Yeah, I walked past this amazing bakery on the way back from the florist and I couldn’t resist them.’

Cameron pulled out a chair for Julia.

‘Come on birthday girl, we’ve got some exploring to do, after breakfast.’

Julia sat down and watched as Cameron poured her a cup of coffee.

‘I really appreciate this. I wasn’t looking forward to today, for obvious reasons. I mean who really wants to be turning fifty? And as for the other reason, well…’

‘You don’t look fifty
that’s for sure. You look great Jules.’

Julia took a bite out of an almond croissant, and then self-consciously checked to see if she had scatte
red crumbs all over herself.

‘Aren’t anniversaries strange? I mean, why should the fact he died exactly six months ago hurt more today than it did yesterday, or maybe
will do tomorrow. It doesn’t make sense, and yet…’

Cameron drank some
of his coffee and then topped up his cup from the cafetiere.

‘I
t’s because as human beings we’re obsessed with time. We’ve broken down every element of our lives into years, months, weeks, days and hours and we constantly monitor our lives against the clock, racing towards mad self-imposed deadlines, trying to hold back time, trying to celebrate time,’ he paused, and gestured at the flowers, ‘and finally, wishing we could turn back time.’

Julia put down her croissant and picked up her cup, but did not drink from it. She held it in her hands, thinking back to the last cup of coffee she had made for Duncan.

‘Well yes, I guess I wish I could turn back the clock. I wish I could have stopped him from going to work that day. Maybe it was too soon. I don’t know. I just wish…’

‘I know. So do I. But it wasn’t because he went back to work. It just happened. Nobody could have stopped it. I’m actually glad you weren’t there when he died.’

‘What do you mean?’ Julia snapped.

‘
Let’s face it Jules, you wouldn’t have been able to live with yourself when you couldn’t save him. You would have felt guilty for the rest of your life.’

Julia thought about the post mortem
report. It was true; Duncan could not have been saved even if his heart attack had happened in the cardiac unit of a world class hospital. And yet she still felt guilty she hadn’t been there to help him, to be there for him. She had witnessed so many deaths, held so many frail hands and stroked the hair on the heads of many elderly patients as they took their last breath. But she had not been there for Duncan. She had arrived at his side nearly two hours later. It was unforgiv
able. But would she have felt worse if she had been there when it happened? She had no idea.

Cameron
walked over to the fridge and took out some juice and poured two glasses and brought them back to the table.

‘Shall I tell you about my fiftieth
birthday? That was a bundle of laughs too.’

Julia looked up and frowned. Her brain was completely scramble
d and she couldn’t remember when Cameron’s birthday was. She had a feeling it coincided with a significant date.

‘St Patrick’s Day; w
e went over to Dublin remember?’ Cameron said, as he reached for a pastry.

‘Of course. I remember
now. Duncan was really envious; he always wanted to go to Dublin for St Patrick’s Day.’

Cameron took a bite out of the pastry and grinned with pleasure at the taste. He put it back on the plate and
picked up a napkin to wipe a smudge of ricotta cheese from his finger.

‘
So, anyway, there we were at the Merrion Hotel in Dublin; five star luxury, not too shabby! And I had managed to get tickets for the Six Nations game as well – Ireland v Scotland. I couldn’t have planned a better birthday if I tried. Amy was staying with John and Fiona, so we were all set to have a great time.’

He took another sip of coffee and then nibbled at the edge of the pastry. Julia drank her juice and waited for him to continue.

‘Anyway, we arrived on the Friday night. We went out to dinner, and then for a drink in some raucous pub in Temple Bar. The next day we went sightseeing, did some shopping, went for another meal and drank more Guinness in yet more pubs. I was having a great time, but I could tell Laura didn’t want to be there. She said it was because she hated being away from Amy. But that wasn’t it. She’d been apart from Amy loads of times before; it was utter bollocks. And every time I went to the bathroom, or went to the bar she would be on her phone checking for messages or texting someone. I asked her about it and she said she was just seeing how Amy was. In fact she even showed me a message she got from my brother saying what Amy had been doing that day.’