Читать книгу Searching For Sophia - Andrew Saw - Страница 8

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Before we go any further I have to tell you that nothing is more real than love at first sight. At Trinity College Dublin, a team of neurologists discovered that parts of the medial prefrontal cortex in the brain decides in less than a second if a stranger is attractive and then, in less than a second more, if the attraction is worth pursuing. When the biochemistry says yes, love chemicals begin to flood the essence of who you are.

The three of us weren’t thinking about neurology when Joe walked into the room, but the flash of attraction was unmistakable. All these months later I’m convinced that Joe was right; in that moment they became an algorithm from the stars. They glanced at each other, held the moment for a beat too long, then flicked their eyes away.

“Sorry to interrupt, Tim,” Joe said, clearly unsettled. “I’m just after the test results for the Hawkins’ Burmese. I think I left them on your desk.”

As soon as I began shuffling folders, he turned to Sophia as if noticing her for the first time.

“Hello, I’m Joe,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Joe’s my partner in the practice,” I said, hoping to seem relevant.

“Hello, I am Sophia Luca,” she said, looking at Joe strangely.

“How’d you end up with these two terrors?” he asked, glancing down at the growling schnauzers.

“It’s part of a contract.”

“Sorry?”

“Sophia is looking after Miss Banks’ place while she’s away in Bucharest.”

“Bucharest, really?”

“We’re in exchange. Miss Banks is in the Romanian National Orchestra, and I am in the Sydney Symphony.”

“So you’re a classical musician?”

“Yes.”

“Do you mind if I ask what instrument?”

“I play the violin.”

It was typical of Joe. Within thirty seconds he had the luck to find out more about Sophia than I might have discovered in thirty minutes.

“Enescu’s Romanian Rhapsodies – I love them,” said Joe through his most engaging grin.

“You know Enescu?”

“Of course. Aren’t his rhapsodies part of every decent repertoire?”

“In Romania, we think this is true.”

“Well it is true. I’ve been listening to them since I was a kid.”

“You know Romanian music?”

“Not all of it, no, but my parents have always played the rhapsodies, they’re beautiful. Rhapsody is such a delicious word, don’t you think?”

“So you eat music?” she smiled.

Joe laughed, a little hysterically. “I would if I could. Food for the soul, people say. I think they’re right.”

Watching the stardust tango unfold, I felt strangely foolish, as if I’d wandered into the wrong veterinary practice. I’m not a cultural cripple, but I’d never heard an Enescu rhapsody in my life. The closest my family comes to classical music is my father’s LP of music from Raiders of the Lost Ark. So, sitting like the invisible man, listening to Sophia and Joe rhapsodise about rhapsodies was a little hard to take.

“So Joe, you have spent much time in Bucharest?” Sophia asked.

“Never been there, unfortunately.”

“You have close family in Romania?”

“Not really, why?”

Sophia shifted uncomfortably. “I feel somehow I know you, maybe for many years. Even since we were kids.”

Joe didn’t actually preen, but I’ve rarely seen him look so pleased. “Well, that’s interesting, specially given my strange marsupial face.”

Sophia smiled politely but was obviously perplexed. “Yes, it’s very strange – I think I have never had this experience before.”

“Really?” said Joe.

“So, here’s the Burmese file,” I said, pointedly shuffling the manila folder in his direction.

“Oh yeah, sure – thanks, Tim.” He took it with barely a glance as he struggled to tear himself away. If I hadn’t been so busy, I would have laughed. “Well, better get on with my work, I guess,” he added in a tone that was clearly asking for an invitation to stay.

“Yes, don’t let us keep you.” It was probably narky of me, but the schnauzers were still growling and snuffling at Sophia’s feet and I was stuck with dealing with them, no matter what level of frisson was filling the room.

“The Burmese awaits,” said Joe, suddenly professional. “Well, goodbye, Sophia, lovely to meet you.”

“Yes,” she replied with a dazzling smile. And I do mean dazzling – it flooded the room.

There was another awkward beat, with Joe almost stumbling backwards in the cosmic light, and he was gone.

Sophia turned to me and, in the fading afterglow, we went back to the question of what to do with Kevin and Ralph. “You will make these tests?”

“We should really ask Miss Banks, and then I’ll let you know. Perhaps if you give me her contact details.”

The radiance that had washed over Joe evaporated, and I was staring into the distant glitter of sea-green permafrost.

“I will pay, it’s no problem.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course.”

“Okay then, we’ll keep them for a couple of days and be in touch.”

“Thank you. I think it’s the best plan.”

She stood, leaned across the desk and shook my hand, her grasp firm and cool. I could practically feel my prefrontal cortex humming.

When she walked out I stayed seated, mildly stunned, with the sound of snuffling schnauzers filling the room. Left alone, I would have to think through what had just happened.

But there was no hope of avoiding Joe. “What an amazing woman,” he said, stepping back into the room.

“Do we really have to have this conversation?”

“Who is she?”

“You know as much as I do.”

“Beautiful eyes.”

“Who are you – the ghost of Hugh Hefner?”

“Come on, Tim, you were as impressed as me.”

“This is a veterinary practice, Joe, not a right swipe on Tinder. Can we just do our work?”

That’s when he talked excitedly about Sophia knowing him since they were kids.

“Now you’re sounding a little crazy,” I said after a brief but reasonably rational rant about the psychology of memory confused by desire.

“Why so negative?” he asked, with genuine surprise.

“I’m not negative, you idiot, just busy. And so are you.”

“You’re right, sorry. Stuck with the schnauzers, are we?”

“You could say that.”

“Okay, no worries. So a beer after a work?”

“Yes, Joe, after work let’s have a beer.”