Occultation

"It's definitely not the same without you here, that's for sure."

"Mm. I needed to move on from things. Put some stuff to bed. Moving was the easiest way to do it. It worked... mostly."

"Well. I'm glad I got to see you. Thank you for reaching out. You had every right not to."

"Are you actually going to stay in touch with me this time?" she said, archly. "Or is our relationship going to be conducted in bits and pieces whenever I happen to be near enough to you for you to bother?"

I winced, and pushed some cake around my plate. "That was... deserved, I guess."

"Yes. It was," she said, not pulling the punch.

"I will be a better friend," I sighed.

"You'd bloody well better. A chain's only as strong as the weakest link, Jamie."

And then the strange bubble of tension burst, and within a minute or two we were laughing about my shocking winter sports abilities, and I was telling her anecdotes about the yacht crew I'd become a member of.

I walked her to her car, and she gave me a long, warm hug goodbye.

"Take care of yourself, James," she whispered.

"You too, Flick."

"I will if you will."

"Deal," I said, staring down at her.

She made a strange, soft noise, and hugged me again.

And as I stood there watching as she drove away, the familiar sadness reformed in my heart and wouldn't leave.

.:.

She called me at about ten that evening, and I could hear that she was driving.

"Flick, hey you, everything alright?"

"Yeah, just been to dinner with family, but I'm still wide awake so I thought I'd see what you were up to."

"Nothing much. Just watching a movie at present."

"Do you want some company?"

"Do you know what," I said softly, "that would be really nice."

"You'll need to tell me where you are. You never invited me back to yours."

"Um..."

She laughed. "Got you. Where are you, James?"

"Flat 601 in the Horizons building. Up in Gardens. How far away are you?"

"Ten minutes? I think?"

"I'll come downstairs. You know where the front entrance is?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Pick me up there and I'll let you into the underground parking."

"Sure thing. See you now."

I paused the TV and grabbed my sailing windbreaker from behind the door. I scampered downstairs, and then jogged from one foot to another to keep warm as I waited for her.

.:.

"Sorry, I wasn't expecting a visitor," I said, as I let her in.

"It's not like I gave you much warning," she said, smiling up at me.

"Here. I'll take your coat."

I hung it up for her, then hung my windbreaker up beside it. "You want something to drink? Glass of wine? Coffee?"

"Wine sounds nice. Got anything decent?"

"You cut me, Shrek. You cut me deep."

She laughed.

"I can actually do better than wine. I've got a bottle of bubbles that I've been looking for an excuse to open."

"I can be an excuse," she said, fluttering her eyelashes.

"Sold."

I grabbed us both one of my nicer glasses and popped the cork. I poured us both a generous amount, then sealed the bottle with a stopper and put it back in the fridge.

"Cheers, Flick," I said. "It's nice to finally have you around."

"Only took you several years," she said, grinning.

"So what brought you here?"

"I was... at a loose end and wanted to spend more time with you."

"I'm not going to complain about your life choices."

"Good," she said. She kicked off her heels and groaned as she stood up on her toes to stretch out her feet. "Mind if I pull up one of your stools?"

"Why not just take the couch?"

"Then where will you be?"

"In the kitchen, obviously," I said, laughing.

"Then a barstool it is," she smiled, as she slipped onto one. "My God, family dinners are tiresome. So much drama."

"I'm lucky, mine are infrequent and constrained."

She laughed again. "Very lucky. So then. Let's resume this morning's conversation. Why the lack of any romantic interests?"

"No time, no energy."

"Really?"

"Kind of. But... I don't know. I feel like I've outgrown the desire to chase after... wait, this sounded better in my head. Um. Rephrase, your honour?"

"I'll allow it," she grinned.

"Right. So. The effort to reward ratio was far too low. I wasted huge amounts of time trying to be what I wasn't. Chasing some image of what I thought people wanted me to be, rather than just being what I was."

"And what weren't you?"

"An interesting man who was worth getting to know."

"But that is precisely what you are, you silly."

"No I'm not."

"You and I seem to do just fine," she said. She took a sip of her champagne, and watched me for a moment. "I don't waste my time on dull and uninteresting people."

"Yeah... but... with you it's different, isn't it?"

"How so?"

"With you I don't have to pretend to be something I'm not. You... always saw me for who I was, and never seemed to mind how... dull and ordinary... I am."

"Trust me, Jamie. You are far from ordinary."

"So just dull then?" I said, smiling at her.

She grinned. "You're a kind, sweet, generous man who's just unutterably shit at picking up the phone."

I shuffled, shamefaced, and took a sip of my bubbles.

"I'm not sure whether to feel ashamed or flattered."

"Flashamed."

"Nice one."

"I've never struggled to have interesting conversations with you," she said softly.

"That's because your standards are low."

"Oh, you bugger. I'll get you for that."

I grinned. "You've got to let me land a hit once or twice, you know. Otherwise you just flawlessly destroy me in a battle of wits."

"Not like that's hard," she said, grinning.

"Oh, ouch."

I mocked a wound to the heart, and she cackled.

"I've missed this," she said, once she'd caught her breath.

"This?"

"You. Me. How easy it is to be myself around you."

"I've never seen you not being yourself, so I don't know how to judge or respond to that."

"Mm. I can't describe it. It's just... there are no complications when I'm around you. I know who and what I am. When I'm around you the world seems to make sense for a bit."

I eyed my glass of champagne, held it up to the light, and stroked my stubble as I frowned.

"What are you doing?" she said.

"Checking for tampering. I think this has been spiked, because I just distinctly heard you say that the world makes sense to you around me, and that cannot possibly be right."

She laughed softly. "Oh, Jamie, you know what I mean."

The champagne went down quickly. So did the emergency crackers i dug out. By the time we were hitting the second bottle of less-nice bubbles, she'd migrated to one corner of the couch, and I was opposite her.

I'd forgotten just how blue her eyes could be when the light hit them just right.

We talked about little of importance - mostly memories of walks or hikes or swims we'd done; ponderings and updates on how various friends were doing; who'd got married, who was shacked up with whom from our circle of friends, and what her plans were for the future.

She was trying to launch her own consultancy, hence the insane days; for a moment the mask slipped and I saw how tired she actually was. I made sympathetic noises, dug a bit into her business, and suddenly, under the influence of too much booze, she ended up spilling her guts about her unwitting affair with a married man.

And then her bitterness set in, and it was horrible to see the transformation that came over her.

She told me in slow, soft sentences how she'd been on the rebound when she met him. She blamed that for the way she hadn't felt the warning signals.

"He was sweet. And intense. And... and he made me feel wanted," she said softly. "He never told me he was married. I found that out myself, when one of his friends confronted me and called me a homewrecker."

I knew Flick well enough to know that that was the last thing she would have wanted to be.

"So... what happened?"

"I broke it off, obviously. But... God, it was horrible. I haven't felt that upset and alone for... for a long time."

"I'm so sorry. I know that's not you."

"No. But... I needed something. Anything. Anything to validate myself. And I chose the worst way. Almost ended knocked up as well, for my sins."

"Wow."

"Yeah. I was stupid. Sorry. I know you probably don't want these details. But... you've always been the only one who gave a shit."

"What are you talking about, Flick?"

She lay back into the couch, smiling sadly. "I was the party centrepiece, Jamie. My role was to be vivacious and happy. Nobody ever stopped to ask me if I was ok, if I needed a hug. Well. Almost nobody," she added, with a small private smile for me. "You were always there for me. Thank you."

I shrugged and grinned. "How could I not be? You were my best friend."

"Were?" she asked, wistfully.

"I fucked it up," I quietly admitted. "I can't take my stupidity back."

"Nah. You hurt me... a bit, but I never lost that bond with you. That's how I've often thought of you."

"I'm sorry."

"So am I."

She sat up and reached for the bottle, then made a face. "Shit," she added. "Are we seriously out of booze?"

"Bubbles, yes. Wine, no. But..."

"Yeah, I know, it's late. Should probably stop. It's just so nice to let the walls down a bit."

"Flick, listen - you're way too drunk to drive anywhere. I'll put clean linen on my bed and you can crash there, ok?"

"Where will you sleep?"

"Here on the couch," I said, grinning. "Happens often enough. Let your parents know, right? So they don't worry?"

"I'll do that, you put the kettle on. I'm going to have a whore of a hangover, but a bit of coffee will soften the blow a bit."

I laughed and walked unsteadily to the kitchen.

"Jamie," she said, softly.

"Yeah?"

"I missed you, you dick. Stop being so useless and talk to me more. Hearing from you makes everything better."

"I'll be better," I promised.

"I'm going to hold you to that."

I brewed us a large french press of coffee, and put it on the coffee table. I poured her a cup, black as sin; she blew the foam away, sipped it, and made a face.

"Milk?" I asked. "Sugar? Do these words mean anything to you?"

"No. Neither, thanks. Works best this way. I've learned to take my knocks."

"Ugh," I grunted, as I copied her. "Oh, god, I always forget how foul black coffee is."

"Wakes you up though," she said, grinning. "Throw some water down the hatch as well.

She finished her coffee, made a face, then put her mug down. She shook her head in disgust and made a low, agonised noise, then grinned. "Done. Another one in a bit and I'll be human when I wake up."

Then she stretched her arms up above her and arched her back. "Ooh. Long day. That's better."

"Still kinking up if you sit still too long, huh?"

"Yeah, guilty as charged. Stupid back. I should be doing crunches etcetera but I'm too lazy. You look like you've been hitting the gym though."

"Grinding on winches on a yacht for ten hours a weekend kind of takes away the need for gym."

"Sounds like fun."

"You should come with next time you're down - if it's summer. It's a bit... shit... at the moment and I know you hate the cold."

"Yep, still do."

Then she yawned.

"Woop," she went. "Witching hour." She slumped further down into the couch, and closed her eyes. "I'm not asleep. I'm just resting."

"I'll go sort out the bed for you."

"Need help?"

"Nah. Relax."

"Ok. I'll miss you."

I laughed at that, and stood up. "Tease."

"Mm," she agreed. "Go fix my bed, slave."

By the time I returned, though, she was nearly out. I looked down at her, and felt a very real pang that I'd let the distance grow between us through my own heartlessness and laziness.

I bent down, gently touched her shoulder.

"Flick?"

"Mm."

"Your bed's ready."

"Mm."

She lifted an arm dramatically and left it there. "Carry me," she whispered.

So of course I did. She felt light as a feather, and she locked her arm behind my neck, tucking her face in against my cheek.

I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I felt some awkward and conflicting emotions as her scent wound around me. But I delivered her to my bed without interference, put her down on it, and was just about to ease my arm out from under her and go when she took my hand and pulled on it.

"Don't leave just yet," she breathed. "Come hold me until I'm asleep. I won't bite."

"Um... but the lights..."

"Oh all right. Kill the lights and then come back. Don't even think of disobeying."

Laughing helplessly, I complied. I made sure the flat's door was locked and that the lights were off. I pulled off my socks, then slipped slowly in beside her. She fumbled for my arm, pulled it over herself, and whispered "Cover us."

And then, when I had, she breathed out a long, slow sigh.

"Goodnight, Jamie," she whispered. "Thank you for tonight."

"Good night, Flick."

"You... you should call me Fee. Nobody else does any more and... and... I prefer it. I'd... I'd like you to call me it... if you'd like to."

"Good night then... Fee," I breathed.

She sighed once more, and soon she was asleep.

But I lay awake well into the small hours, saddened and conflicted by the overwhelming urge I felt to pull her closer.

I had been hers for a long, long time.

But she was not and would never be mine.

.:.

"Jamie. Jamie. Wake up. Come on."

"Mm."

Someone elbowed me.

"Jamie, seriously, wake up. It's an emergency."

I grunted, opened an eye.

"Mm?"

"Sorry. I really need to wee, and you've got me pinned down. I've waited as long as I could - I'm about to wet myself."

"Oh. Right. Right. Sorry."

I groaned and rolled away, and she climbed off the bed and stumbled down the passage. I lay there, trying to disentangle the previous evening, scratching at my face and my itching stubble.

The toilet flushed, and Felicity poked her head around the corner. "Hey... are... are you awake now?"

"Sort of."

"Good."

She climbed back onto the bed, and lay down beside me, pillowing her head on her arm as she watched me boot up.

I lay, staring at her, once again entranced by the way the dim winter dawn still managed to find some of the blue in her eyes.

She smelled soft, and wonderful, and safe. I breathed in, tried to fix the moment, then shook my head and rubbed my face again.

"Thank you for last night," she said, once I was somewhat more alert.

"You're welcome. Um... why?"

"It was... it was just nice to have somewhere safe and warm to be. Somewhere where I could just relax for a bit. Without having to worry about... stuff."

"Stuff?"

"Unwanted... advances. Expectations. Stuff."

"Of course. You don't need to thank me for that, you know."

"Well... I want to. Listen. It's getting on for eight and I've got a breakfast date that I need to make. I... I really hate to leave you like this but... would... would you mind walking me down?"

"Sure. Of course I will. Just... just let me remember how to make my legs work."

She laughed, and rolled off the bed.

"How are you not hanging like a moose," I complained as I levered myself up.

"It's my innate lightness of being," she quipped with a grin.

"I call bullshit on that."

"Uh huh."

I snorted, rubbed my face again, and pulled on a fresh pair of socks. She sat, watching me, amused and content. "You're not a morning person, are you," she said, smiling.

"No. Not at all. Not even slightly unless there's an excellent reason to be. Like a yacht to crew or a sunrise to watch. But neither's a possibility today."

"Next time we do this I'll try not to schedule an early start. Or if I do, it will be for something that's worth being up early for."

I eyed her, decided she was joking, and kept my response light and amused. "If you give me warning I'll stock stuff for breakfast."

"It's a date," she said, softly.

We walked silently to the lift, and rode down to the basement carpark without breaking the bubble. As the lift doors opened she took my hand, and briefly held it on the short walk to her Volkswagen.

"So... how much longer are you in town?"

"I'm leaving today," she said, wistful. "Hence the early start. I need to go see my folks and Kate, then get moving. But I can't say I'm looking forward to the drive... I might stop overnight somewhere along the way. We'll see," she sighed. "I wouldn't mind having another day or two here, to be honest. But..."

I squeezed her hand in mine, and she leaned in briefly against me.

"Give Kate my love, will you? Tell her I'm sorry for being a shit friend to her too."

"I'll tell her. You should go see her sometime, Jamie. Make peace. Not that you need to. But you know what I mean."

"Yeah. I do. I will."

"Right," she said softly. "Time to go. Are... are you actually going to phone me this time? Or is that a lost cause?"

She fixed me with a direct stare, and for once I knew that my answer was an honest one.

"Once a week, at a time convenient to you. Or... more often if you'd like..."

"Lets start with once a week and see how that goes. Take... please, take care of yourself. And... thank you for being there for me... last night."

I spread my arms, and she came to me. But she wasn't smiling, and the tight, hard, crushing hug she gave me had nothing light and joyous about it.

"Drive safe, Fee," I whispered, tucking my face in against her. She made a small, soft noise as she held me close. Eventually she let me go, stared up at me for a moment, and smiled something that someone else might have mistaken for a smile.

But I could see that her eyes were sad.

So I did my best to smile for her, and wave her off with cheerful upbeatness to take the edge off whatever thoughts she was struggling with.

But after she was gone, all there was left to me to do was to return to my flat, and sit, staring out at the buildings across from me, feeling more lonely and wretched than I could ever remember being.

.:.

"Kate?"

"Jamie? Oh my God. Is that really you? I hardly recognise your voice!"

"I'm sorry. I've been unutterably bad. This is me - grovelling at your virtual feet."

"What brought this sudden attack of conscience on?"

"Felicity told me to stop being a shit friend. So I'm doing my best."

"Flick talked to you? Oh. That's great news. I'm so relieved."

"Uh..."

"Never mind, it's not important. I'm just so glad to hear you spoke to her. Did you know she was down this weekend?"

"Um. Yes. She hunted me down. We went ice-skating."

"That's... that's really great, Jamie. Listen, I can't chat long, I'm meeting Stephanie's parents for the first time today and we're about to head out. But... listen, there's a gathering at my parents place next weekend. You should come. We'll chat properly then, ok? Please come, Jamie. I miss you."

I smiled. "Thanks, Kate. That's... that's really kind of you. I'll do my best to be there, and if not I swear I'll make it up to you."

"You'd better! Love you Jamie, take care now, see you soon!"

"Cheers, Katie."

I hung up, then stared in bemusement at the handset as I mentally replayed the conversation.

There was a lot of subtext that I simply didn't understand.

I gave up.

I'd no doubt discover the meaning of all these strange cryptic messages when someone started shouting at me about them.

.:.

I kept my word to Felicity, and our Sunday phone calls became the pulse of my life - something that I scheduled the rest of my week around. They evolved into rambling, sprawling things - where we discussed our families, the small victories and losses of our day-to-days, the details that would have bored any external listeners to tears.

But, to us, it was about the sound of one another's voice, and to me it was the knowledge that she cared enough to spend that time listening to me.

It was humbling, and I mentally kicked myself many times for taking her for granted over the time that she'd been only an arm's length away. She was my freedom, my person that I could confess stupid, childish dreams to with no fear of being judged.