Читать книгу Yours Is Mine - Amy Bird - Страница 19

-Kate-

Kate was in high spirits as she headed to the acting class at the end of the week. She had spent a happy morning at the V&A Museum wandering round their collection of fashion through the ages, and had managed to get a slot for the popular current exhibition of famous diamonds. She loved the high vaulted ceilings, the ornamental floor tiles, and the care with which the exhibitions were put together – even the ladies’ toilets were a triumph of design. Plus the small sparkling rocks delighted her, her awe of their multi-faceted brilliance against the plush black velvet that housed them reminding her of the beauty that was available to man.

Sitting on the tube afterwards on the way to the college, idly munching through a crêpe she had picked up in South Kensington on her way to the station, she was experiencing one of those rare moments of pure happiness and relaxation that had been so infrequent of late. Congratulating herself on her decision to take up Anna’s proposition, and open to what other opportunities the world had to offer her, she allowed her gaze to meander over the banner adverts above the row of seats opposite her. One particular advert caught her attention.

“Who do you think you are? Who are you really? Who do you want to be?” it enquired, in spiky pink capitals.

“Join us to explore your identity in friendly surroundings – not dry philosophy but real practical tips for living your daily life to get the most out of being you!” There was a website address and a phone number at the bottom of the ad, but little else.

Kate giggled to herself. In her current position, it would be fun, would it not, to go along to something like that and kid a lot of probably very earnest and deep-minded people into a sham exploration of self? She could just imagine them, all sitting in a circle, trying to improve their minds and lives by futile navel-gazing. It was probably some kind of cult, or religious gathering – she wouldn’t be surprised if anyone joining was told the only way to find her true self was through some god or other. It really did seem like too funny an opportunity to miss. Grinning, she wrote down the short website address (she assumed ‘HGS’ must be a three-letter acronym, but for what she did not know – the something or other Society perhaps) and vowed to explore it after class that day.

She deserved a bit of fun, after all. She had been very diligent in applying herself to the tasks Anna had set her. Not only had she been doing well on the proofs, and sent back the completed sci-fi work, she had finally got round to logging-on to Anna’s internet dating site to embark on the task of keeping Luke ‘warm’ for Anna as requested, and had flown the flag as Anna just that morning. At first, Kate had been putting off going onto the site. Although the prospect of guilt-free flirting had initially seemed an attractive one, a silly pastime that would be good for a giggle, the reality of it was slightly daunting to her. It was a long time since she had done any real flirting (flirting with your spouse didn’t count), never mind in a stark written form sent across the ether to a total stranger. In person, so much could be done with the odd failure to break eye-contact, a carefully modulated smile or tone of voice, adroit crossing of legs to graze the other person’s as your legs overlapped, perhaps even some subtle touching of the upper arm if you were feeling confident. And there was so much more possibility for retreat, claiming the other person was misinterpreting the signs, that you were just being friendly.

But with messages and emails, what you said was out there, could be passed round friends, incontrovertible evidence that you liked someone, wanted someone, and were willing to do something about it. She supposed the more experienced flirts would still be able to deny the interpretation that had been put on their words. That was the point of flirting, after all, wasn’t it? Suggesting that there may be a possibility that you were interested, testing the parameters of the other person’s willingness to engage, trying to make them connect you with sexual pleasure, but always keeping that teasing streak going so that complacency didn’t undermine the personal energy and the interest between the two people. She knew she would be doing this as Anna, so would be completely hidden behind that name, but the safety her pride would get from that was balanced in almost equal proportions to the difficulty this assumed identity would present. It was bad enough having to suddenly flirt on-line herself, but it seemed an insurmountable task to tap into whatever dynamic Anna and Luke had established, and try to master Anna’s flirting vocabulary and nuance. It would be pure academic flirting, studying the language they both used to try to emulate the mood between the two, with no personal gain. As it sounded like Anna had been living single for a considerable amount of time, Kate imagined she must have a fairly sophisticated – if not always successful – technique. Kate wasn’t sure she was equal to the demands of modern cyber-flirtation.

It was being good at old-fashioned face-to-face flirting that had got her together with Neil. She had met him at the end of her second year at university when she was considering trying to convert her Law degree to Law with French. He was a student in the Modern Languages faculty and had been leading her group for the guided tours. She had immediately taken to his blond spiky hair, cheeky smile and deep blue eyes – the sort of eyes that drew you in and gave you no option but to stare into them, you hoping that their draw was personal to you, but knowing deep down that the eye-owner was universally acknowledged as hot. She had managed to push her way to the front of the group and get noticed by the occasional quip coupled with demure look at the ground.