Chapter 5

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see her, or that I avoided her. It was just that she was out every time I phoned and didn’t show up at the camera club. I even called around to her flat a couple of times, but there was no answer.

At first it didn’t cause me any concern. She didn’t come to the camera club the following Tuesday, but while I was disappointed it was nothing unusual. I mean it isn’t compulsory to attend every meeting. And when I phoned on the Thursday and she wasn’t in, again that was quite normal. She didn’t phone me from work on the Friday as she usually did and then I started to worry. But not very much. I phoned her back on Friday night, but she was out. It was no great surprise, Alexandra was not the type of girl you’d expect to be in on a Friday night.

But when she didn’t phone me back on Saturday and was out both times I phoned her, I realized that the bitch had gone away for the weekend without bothering to tell me. Great ! I thought, here was I hanging around all Friday and Saturday not doing anything because I was waiting to arrange to do something with her and she’d disappeared without a second thought. I was livid. I couldn’t wait to get to the club on Tuesday to tell her what I thought of that.

But, of course, she didn’t show up. Neither did she bother to return my calls the next day. Or the day after. Or the day after that. So Saturday afternoon I went around to her flat to really give her a piece of my mind. But there was no answer. She wasn’t home. Had she gone away two weekends in a row? Without bothering tell me either time. Just to be sure I called back later. And again on Sunday. But there was still no answer.

By this stage my anger had evaporated and a state of shock had set in. I was exceedingly nervous about showing up at the club on Tuesday. I didn’t know what to make of her behaviour, nor how I should react. I was even more frightened by how I might react if my anger resurfaced. But I decided that staying away would not be any better.

As it turned out all my anxiety and worry was for nothing, because she didn’t show. I must have walked around in a daze for the next day or so. I didn’t know how to react. She’d obviously dumped me. And because she hadn’t had the decency to tell me to my face I didn’t quite know why, though I strongly suspected that it had something to do with our last date. But neither did I have a chance to vent my anger at her. She’d just disappeared from my life. I couldn’t say or do anything about it. One more frustration to end our relationship with.

Then I realised that tomorrow was Friday and I developed this irrational fear that she’d phone me up. I walked around in dread for the rest of the day. Half the time telling myself that as she’d dumped me she wasn’t likely to phone me ever again. The other thinking that as she hadn’t “officially” dumped me, that is told me to my face, maybe she’d change her mind and decide to go out with me again. I was scared shitless ! What was I going to do?

Then I came to my senses. She was avoiding me, not me her, I had nothing to fear from meeting her again, she was the one with all the explaining to do, not me ! She was the one who’d walked out on me. If I ever met her again I was just going to play it cool, as if nothing had ever happened between us.

I told myself this repeatedly over the next few weeks. Slowly adjusting to the fact that Alexandra really didn’t love me. That I’d have to find someone else to share my life and raise a family with. But it was still pretty depressing.

Then she showed up in the club one Tuesday night. I’d arrived late for the meeting and found a seat at the back. The lecturer was showing slides so it was dark and all I could make out of the people around me were vague shadows. But a few minutes after I’d arrived I recognized the shape of the head in front of me. I thought, that’s Alexandra. Then I thought, no it can’t be. But my heart was already beating faster.

I couldn’t concentrate on the lecture. Which was a pity, because it was by a guy who’d taken photos while pot-holing. He’d used all sorts of intricate combinations of lights and flash guns to illuminate some fantastic rock formations he’d discovered under ground. But I couldn’t focus on what he was saying. All I could think of was that Alexandra was sitting in front of me. I could smell her perfume and the memories of our love making came flooding back to me.
When the lecture was over she turned around in her seat and noticed me. “Hi,” she smiled. “Long time no see, stranger.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but my mind went blank. I’d fallen in love with her, she’d treated me with contempt, then dumped me with out a word of explanation, and now she was acting as if we were casual acquaintances who’d not seen each other for a few days.

“So what have you been up to while I was away?” she asked.

“You where away?” I didn’t know what to say.

“Yeh,” she smiled again. “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”

“Oh, I noticed all right,” I replied. “I just wish you’d bothered to tell me about it before hand.”

“Sorry?” she stopped smiling.

“I missed you,” I said. I thought, If I make a fuss about her disappearing will she get offended and walk out on me for good? I couldn’t risk it. I’d have to show the true strength of my love for her by accepting her back and loving her even more.

She smiled back. Then looked down. “I missed you, as well,” she whispered.

My heart jumped. I reached up and stroked her cheek. She looked up and I went weak at the knees as our eyes met. I cleared my throat to say something, but lent forward to kiss her instead.

Once again we ended up in her place again. And once again I caressed and stroked her. Once again she kissed and hugged me back. Once again I kissed and licked and sucked her, ran my hands all over her body, gloried in our physical intimacy . Once again sure of my love for her.

And once again, when I’d made her come, she asked me to leave without returning the compliment. Once again we could have sex, but I couldn’t sleep with her. Once again I’d told her that I loved her and once again I felt rejected even though she’d not rejected me.

So there I was left wondering what she felt for me. Could I love someone who didn’t love me? Could she love me and treat me with what I was increasingly calling contempt? Was I just an easy lay to her or did she have stronger feelings for me? Would this uncertainty ever end? Could I ever love her properly and know that she loved me back?

And then it was Friday night and once again I was standing outside Easons wondering if Alexandra would turn up. A month before I had been wondering if I was going to spend the rest of my Friday nights standing here waiting for her and just the week before I’d thought I’d never have to do it again. But there I was once more, waiting for her to pop out of the crowd.

I was saying to myself, I don’t know why I agreed to see her again. She obviously doesn’t love me. I’m just going to be hurt again. She’s just going to fuck me about again. I should be old enough to know better by now. I should just go home now and forget about her.

But I didn’t. Looking back I suppose I was trying to be noble. To take the moral high ground. To prove myself better than her by treating her decently, even while she used and abused me. But more importantly I couldn’t forget the feel of her in my arms. The taste of her when I made love to her. The trill of making her come. The smell from my fingers that would linger for days.

And then she was there. Walking towards me through the crowd. A smile on her face as she saw me. She was wearing a long black skirt, and black leather boots. On top of which she had a chunky wool cardigan, black with green flecks through it. Her long black hair was tied back in a pony tail with a red ribbon. And her green eyes shone out at me.

“Hi,” she said as she stopped beside me.

My mouth was dry, but I managed to respond. “Hi,” I smiled back, my heart beating faster, my balls tightening at the thought of making love to her.

Once again we had a nice pleasant evening out. We had a drink, saw a movie and went to Bewley’s for coffee afterwards. All the time we chatted about this and that, about photography and movies,about work and shopping, about her tennis and my writing. About almost everything, but what I most wanted to talk about, what I felt for her, and what she felt for me.