MacLean found the question difficult. He searched for an answer but only came up with, ‘Because it isn’t. You and Carrie are just two people I bumped into by accident yesterday.’
‘You saved Carrie’s life,’ said Tansy.
‘I happened to be there that’s all,’ said MacLean. ‘There is no obligation on you because of it.’
‘It has nothing to do with obligation,’ said Tansy. ‘You are welcome here in this house. You build snowmen in the garden with my daughter. You sit at our table and by the fire and we like having you here so why rush away? You have nowhere to go… so stay.’
MacLean shook his head. The resolve he had built up while out in the garden had all but gone.
‘Just one more night?’ said Tansy.
MacLean’s stony expression relaxed. ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘One more night.’
MacLean found himself being manipulated into telling Carrie a bedtime story but he didn’t resist. He had moved from constantly reminding himself that this was not a real part of his life to momentarily wishing that it were.
With Jack safely back down the beanstalk and everyone living happily ever after he joined Tansy by the fire. She asked, ‘Do you like music?’
‘Yes.’
‘Schubert?’
‘Yes.’
Tansy put on the music and sat down again. She said, ‘The day is over. No more questions. Just relax.’
MacLean sank down deeper into his chair and watched the flames in the fire subside into glowing embers as time passed and the warmth and the music washed over. He was mercifully free of all anguish when the music finally ended and silence filled the room. He was in the margins between sleep and wakefulness when Tansy got up and stretched out her hands towards him. ‘Come,’ she said softly.
MacLean got up and looked questioningly at her.
‘Come,’ she repeated, leading him with both hands to her bedroom. She kicked off her shoes.
MacLean could not take his eyes from her. ‘I don’t understand,’ he said gently. ‘Why?’
Tansy put her finger against his lips and said, ‘No more questions
… remember?’ She undid his shirt buttons and kissed his chest lightly while her fingers began to move over his arms and shoulders.
MacLean felt himself shiver slightly at the feel of Tansy’s hair on his skin. As desire grew he tried to find her mouth but she drew back slightly and said, ‘Lie down.’
MacLean lay back on the bed while Tansy stood in front of him and undressed. He was conscious of her body but his eyes never left hers. He was looking for an answer but all he found was a distant smile. Tansy sat astride him and undid his belt buckle then, moving backwards a little on her knees she undressed him completely. MacLean made to take her in his arms but again she stopped him saying, ‘No, lie still.’
Tansy moved her mouth expertly over MacLean’s body until he felt he couldn’t bear it but each time he made to move he was pushed back and told to lie still. The sweat was running freely down his face when Tansy suddenly rolled over on to her back and said, ‘Now; take me now.’
MacLean felt himself penetrate deeply and Tansy’s gasp made him want her all the more. Her soft cries made him thrust himself deeper and harder into her as if driven by a will to hurt her for causing him so much confusion. His head was full of questions but his body insisted they wait. Tansy gasped again and said, ‘Now Dr MacLean, that is what it feels like to be alive… Don’t knock it.’
Post-coital drowsiness washed over MacLean like the waves of some summer ocean. ‘I don’t understand,’ he whispered in Tansy’s ear as he snuggled close to her. ‘Why?’
‘I told you,’ whispered Tansy. ‘I saw Keith in your eyes. Now go to sleep.’ She suffixed what she’d said by burying her fingers in his hair and massaging his scalp gently.
Long after Tansy had taken away her fingers MacLean could still feel them. The affection that had been in them lingered on until exhaustion insisted he close his eyes and sleep.
As the first light of morning, made unnaturally white by the snow outside, crept in through the window, MacLean got up and collected his clothes. He tiptoed out of the bedroom and dressed quickly in the cold of the living room where the fire had gone out. He was putting on his jacket when Tansy spoke from the bedroom. The voice was even and controlled. ‘No sugar in my coffee,’ she said.
MacLean froze for a moment, staring at the bedroom door and wondering whether Tansy realised his intention to leave or not. He looked to the front door through the hall then back at the bedroom. He relaxed with a smile of resignation and took off his jacket again. ‘How about milk?’
FOUR
MacLean brought Tansy her coffee and she sat up in bed.
‘Did you sleep well?’ she asked.
MacLean looked for signs of accusation in her eyes but found none. ‘Like the proverbial log,’ he replied.
‘How are you feeling?’
MacLean saw that the question had a deeper significance. ‘Better,’ he said.
‘Good,’ said Tansy. ‘Will you tell me the rest of the story today?’
‘If you like.’
Carrie came into the room. She was trailing a teddy bear by the arm and rubbing her eyes. Their voices had woken her. MacLean felt uncomfortable at being caught in her mother’s bedroom but the child did not see anything amiss and MacLean reminded himself that she was only five years old. Tansy, however, noticed his discomfort. ‘The world stops outside that door Mr MacLean,’ she said. ‘It’s mores and morals have no place in here. We are people who like and care for each other, that’s all
MacLean nodded but still felt uneasy.
Tansy added, ‘And to answer your unspoken question, no, I do not usually sleep with anyone who cares to call. In fact I have not slept with anyone at all since Keith died.’
‘I didn’t…’
‘No, I know you didn’t but I thought I’d say it anyway.’
‘Can I have my cornflakes?’ asked Carrie, breaking the silence.
MacLean and Tansy relaxed. ‘If you show me where they are Carrie,’ said MacLean and followed her through to the kitchen.
It was mid-morning when MacLean resumed his story. Carrie, intrigued with the possibilities that snowbricks offered, had decided to build a wall round Mr Robbins. MacLean was watching her from a corner of the window when Tansy prompted him to tell her more about Cytogerm.
‘At the time,’ said MacLean turning away from the window, ‘I was living with a girl called Jutte Hahn. She was a ski instructor I had met in the mountains. I’ve probably conjured up an image of a blonde-haired bimbo, but that would be doing Jutte the most terrible injustice. She did have blonde hair and she was beautiful but there was so much more to her than that.’ MacLean paused as he remembered. ‘There were lots of beautiful girls around but Jutte was special. She had a serenity about her, which I found completely captivating. It almost bordered on detachment but it wasn’t. I found it intriguing but it was something I could never completely fathom. I think in Scotland we used to call it being fey. She seemed to see things differently from the rest of us, more clearly somehow. She had a wonderful sense of what was really important and what wasn’t. They say that when you know everything there is to know about someone the relationship must die but there was never any possibility of that with Jutte, not if we’d lived for a thousand years.’
‘You were obviously very much in love with her,’ said Tansy.
‘Very much.’
‘But you didn’t marry?’
‘I think we were both scared we’d destroy the magic. We didn’t even dare speak about the future. Happiness can be the most ephemeral thing in the world.’
‘And the most elusive.’
