Читать книгу Candlesight - Michael Liddy - Страница 6

It was three the following afternoon before Amelia had a quiet moment to recall what she intended to do. Judging that everything on the desk sheet in front of her and littered through her email inbox could wait, Amelia purposefully shut down her computer and reached for her bag. Thankfully nobody interrupted her rapid passage to the elevator.

As she drove towards Kensington, rare bouts of nervousness gripping her spasmodically, she thought about what she was going to say, playing over in her mind any number of possible opening conversations. She pulled up slowly to the vantage point she’d chosen; from the opposite side of the street to the factory she had a clear view of the entry door and the side street. Amelia realised she had no idea of how this was going to play out.

A few minutes past four a spattering of figures filed out of the building, walking off to the tram stop around the corner. Those that drove filtered out in an orderly manner, and Amelia peered intently into the cabin of each car as it passed. As she expected (or hoped) there was no sign of the man she was seeking.

The numbers quickly thinned and the street became quiet. Slowly the last of the workers disappeared around the corner at the end of the street and all was quiet again. Every few minutes a car would sweep past, but otherwise the streetscape efficiently banished any signs of life and activity from its domain.

Concerned that she might have missed something, Amelia recalled the drifting groups of people that had exited the building. She shook her head. “He wasn’t there.” Looking towards the silent shell of the factory, she scowled. “What are you doing in there?”

The sun had just started to dip below line of houses to her right, casting deep shadows across the street. Soon it would be dark, and she wasn’t confronting anybody in the dwindling light; that was just asking for trouble. She’d wait until 4:45pm, and if he hadn’t come out by then, she’d have too wait until another day or think of some other way.

Just as Amelia was about to start the engine, the chill air in the cabin becoming unpleasant, a solitary figure emerged from the side street. Wearing the same light fawn jacket she’d seen the other night, there could be no doubting now that this was the man she’d seen.

His gait was hunched and unassuming, a shuffling, plodding stride that was aimless and without energy. She could tell now that he was quite thin and a little under medium height. He wore dark blue jeans and navy cross trainers, and now had a woollen beanie pulled down over his forehead and ears.

Amelia watched in fascination as he made his way along the sidewalk, hands deep in his jacket pockets. She had trouble reconciling his nondescript presentation with the person who’d created the drawings sitting on the seat next to her.

He rounded the corner, and Amelia assumed he headed for the tram stop. She’d have to follow the tram and watch for him leaving.

Starting the car, she pulled out slowly and made for the corner, allowing him enough time to reach the stop a hundred metres or so from the intersection. That would give her enough distance to pull over and wait. Turning into the larger street, she was surprised to see him in the distance, well past the tram stop. There was a small strip of shops and, crawling slowly forward, Amelia passed the man just as he entered a small supermarket.

Pulling up a little further down, Amelia took a deep breath and then reached resolutely for the door handle. She approached the IGA store, her heart pounding, and started as the automatic doors slid open. There was a sprinkling of people within and nobody turned to appraise her as she entered. Passing through the turnstiles she reached down for a hand basket and peered furtively down the aisles for her target. A little alarmed that he’d jump out at her, Amelia was relieved to finally catch a glimpse of his jacket as he disappeared behind a stack of boxes at the far end of the store.

More confident now, Amelia strode along the aisle, craning her head around the corner to see him squatting down and gingerly picking up green capsicums from a lower box. He finally realised he was being watched, and his head snapped up towards her. Amelia spoke in a strong, confident voice. “Hello.”

There was instant recognition and his eyes widened slightly. It was some time before he responded, evidently startled and confronted. Looking from side to side, refusing to meet her direct gaze, he finally lurched upward and backed away, uttering one word as he turned his body from her to walk away. “Hi.”

Her fear evaporating quickly, Amelia closed the distance. “You’re from the Coremade factory, aren’t you?” His back turned to her now, he tipped his head slightly backward, the only response he gave to her question. Intrigued by his action, Amelia took a step forward and tried to disarm his attempts to ignore her. “It’s Jared, isn’t it?” At the sound of his name, Jared stopped walking away. It was enough of an acknowledgement for her to commence some form of conversation. “I know you recognise me.” She paused for a moment before continuing, “You’re not in trouble for anything, I just want to talk to you.”

He glanced at her briefly then, his lips tightening. “I didn’t do anything.”

Though the cast of his features was flighty and evasive, there was something very penetrating about his expression. Amelia suspected that he was very intelligent and very aware. “Oh, I think you did, Jared.”

Her blunt response caught him off guard and he fidgeted. “What do you mean?”

She considered just asking if the work was his, but decided against it. “You obviously have a talent for design. Why don’t you want anyone to know about it?”

Jared stared at her for the barest of moments before dropping his gaze. Without any further word, he turned and walked away from her. At a loss in trying to understand his attitude, Amelia simply watched him. Then a surge of anger rushed through her and she strode after him.

At the end of the aisle, she caught up to him. “It’s rude to walk away when someone’s talking to you.”

Without interrupting his pace he spoke in clipped words. “Leave me alone.”

Amelia was able to control her emotions in most situations, but there was something about this man’s attitude that riled her. He’d become a vessel for much of her stress over the last months, but she was in such a state now that she didn’t care. “I don’t think we need your services at Havesheld anymore and I believe trespassing is grounds for dismissal.” She stopped dead and folded her arms.

The reaction was instant. Jared turned and gave her an expression of such pure hopelessness that she immediately regretted her fit of pique. He stared at her for long moments before chewing out the words in response to her threat. “Don’t take this away from me.”

Her question was quiet and open, and she asked so that she could find the best way of taking back those angry words. “Why not?”

Dropping his eyes, he was obviously deflated. “It’s all I have.”

Emotion welled up at his plaintive response, and Amelia stepped a little closer. “Of course I won’t, but why won’t you talk to me?”

Jared took a deep breath. “I don’t talk to anyone.”

She frowned. “You don’t really mean that.”

He shook his head, but it seemed for the moment she’d pierced his defences. “Not good with anyone, and they’re not good with me.”

Amelia studied the man as he hunched into his jacket, head downcast. As she cast her eyes over his features she noted that he wasn’t unseemly in anyway, he was just completely nondescript. There wasn’t a single feature of his bearing or presentation that was noteworthy. She imagined that looking as he did, almost nobody would notice him; he’d be invisible. Underneath his lank hair, she wondered what he actually looked like. Fuelled by the knowledge that he had an insightful and original creativity, she felt her curiosity burgeoning despite an instinct to dismiss this unremarkable man.

She spoke softly but insistently. “You designed those boat shoes, and you did the Coremade changes.” The downward tilt of his head told her all she needed to know, though she simply couldn’t understand why someone would want to avoid the accolades that were due to him and instead let a windbag like Ted take the credit.

Perhaps he treasured complete predictability, safety and routine. That gave her another insight. “Did you do what you did for Coremade just so the factory would keep open?”

He lifted his head then, and regarded her openly for the first time. As she'd thought, there was a considered intensity to his demeanour which suggested a keen intelligence. “They would have shut it.”

“You’ve been there for years, you could have worked in the warehouse.” She let the statement trail away.

He tightened his lips slightly. “Maybe I like to make.”

Amelia held his gaze with a focused expression. “For just a few minutes, forget I’m a person. I want you to talk to me. After that I won’t bother you again and I won’t tell anyone what you can do.” She held out her hand. “Deal?”

Jared regarding the outstretched limb as though it was charged with 4000 volts of electricity. Amelia regarded the play of a variety of emotions across his face with considerable interest. When he finally extended his hand to hers and hurriedly took it, she felt a jolt at the touch. Now that she’d coerced him, she wasn’t exactly sure what to do.

“There’s a café I like not too far from here, why don’t we go there for half an hour or so.” She looked up and into his hazel eyes. “Do you have time?”

Tipping his head forward so that his hair trailed over his forehead and eyes again, a mannerism Amelia saw as a nervous habit, he spoke tentatively. “Umm.” He was clearly agitated.

Glancing at his empty hand basket, she prompted him quickly before he found reason to escape. “You haven’t got that much there, can I drop you back when we’re done?”

Looking down, Jared finally pursed his lips and stepped away from the fresh food section. “Ok.”

Amelia smiled. “Jared, I promise I’m not going to eat you. It’s just coffee, just a few questions, nothing hard.”

He regarded her with a completely blank expression, and she turned and walked towards the front doors. Glancing back frequently to make sure he was following, Amelia led the way along the darkening footpath and crossed over to the driver’s side of her car. She watched as Jared edged towards the black Audi as though he wasn’t legally allowed anywhere near it and expected to have sirens or alarms blare at any moment.

Pressing the button on her remote, the alarm chirped and the doors unlocked. Reaching for the door handle she encouraged him, “It’s open.”

Bemused, Amelia watched him fumble with the door before he very gingerly climbed into the car. He peered at every detail, hands firmly clenched in his lap. Clearing his throat he mumbled, “Is this really yours?”

“Yes. Why?” Amelia started the engine, prompting a number of chimes to sound, and frowned. “Oh, you need to put your seatbelt on.”

Jared turned behind him and fumbled with the seatbelt, studying the buckle before he pressed it into the clasp, at which point the noise around them abruptly ceased. He sat very uncomfortably in the seat. “I’ve never seen something like this before.” Jared paused. “It’s beautiful.”

Amelia frowned as she pulled out into the street. “Do you drive?”

“No, don’t have a license.” He glanced over at her. “Lived here all my life.”

“You’ve been out of Melbourne though?”

He shook his head. “No.”

Finding this absolutely incredible, Amelia struggled to understand what this man’s life must be like. She couldn’t begin to imagine an existence that revolved around a few streets and a small suburb, moving from work to home and never venturing beyond very tightly controlled boundaries. This was an existence she had no ability to comprehend, and for a moment she realised what a privileged life she’d had. There was also a tinge of guilt that she blindly assumed that everyone had the same opportunities afforded her by fate.

They drove slowly and in silence through the streets of Kensington, and then down into North Melbourne. Even at this early stage of the evening the street was largely empty. Amelia pulled up in front of the cafe and gave Jared a brief smile before she climbed out of the car.

He stepped very carefully from the vehicle, as if the slightest pressure on any surface would damage it. He had to open and close the door twice before it shut with the appropriate clunk. Locking the car, Amelia gestured towards the restaurant in front of them and immediately noted Jared’s look of apprehension. Again she was touched with a sense of guilt at a pleasure she accepted too readily; her prolific frequenting of cafés at all times of the day.

“I come here all the time,” she said, trying to assuage his nervousness. “It’s nothing special.” She eased towards the inset dark timber door, beckoning him to follow.

Jared remained frozen next to the car. “I’m not dressed right, I can’t go in there.”

Taking a deep breath she took a few steps back towards him, and spoke in as placating voice as she could muster. “It’s just a café, I’ve seen people come in here in shorts and singlets.” This was a lie, but it wasn’t that far off the truth; North Melbourne was a very laid back and relaxed suburb with the feeling of a country town. By gauging his expression Amelia was able to understand some of his fear. “Nobody will look at you strangely.”

Seeming to give in, Jared followed her into the richly furnished restaurant and stood close behind her as a waiter greeted her warmly. As Amelia exchanged pleasantries with the man, she noticed the profound look of discomfort on Jared’s face, an expression that could almost be described as stricken.

When they were shown to a table, Amelia left the spot against the back wall for Jared. He clambered into the seat clumsily, leaving his jacket on. Letting him settle for a moment, she eventually leaned forward. “Nobody’s looking at you.” She smiled warmly. “You can probably take your jacket off, it’s warm in here.”

Without replying, Jared did exactly as he was asked, leaning forward and half shrugging, half rolling his shoulders out of the yellow coat. Underneath he wore a simple grey windcheater, with an innocuous slogan across the front, the sort you’d buy from a discount chain.

Now that he was, in essence, trapped in front of her, Amelia had the opportunity to regard him a little more carefully. Jared had a rounded face with somewhat angular features. Hazel eyes were shrouded below pronounced brow ridges and dark eyebrows. His complexion was very pale, as if he saw the sun rarely, and his brown hair, though obviously clean and well washed, hung dispiritedly around his features.

He had a pronounced 5 o’clock shadow, but it was late in the day. It endowed him with a menacing bearing, completely at odds with his defeated posture. Amelia couldn’t tell if he was attractive. She thought that perhaps he could be, but that would mean starting again with his whole presentation. As it stood, every decision he’d made about how he looked seemed specifically taken to make him appear as nondescript as possible.

Her eyes drawn to his fidgeting hands, Amelia watched as his dextrous fingers, stained with glue and other residues, worried the napkin at the edge of the table. Suddenly they were still and Amelia looked up. Jared had noticed she was watching him.

Amelia held his gaze for a moment, trying her best to appear reassuring. “It’s just coffee, nothing is going to happen. I’ll drop you off afterward, exactly where I picked you up, and you can pretend you never saw me.”

Too agitated to respond to her sense of humour, Jared simply stared at her for an instant longer before his eyes snapped to the approaching waitress. “What can I get you?” she asked warmly. Fortunately for Jared her attention was on the familiar face of Amelia and he was spared any direct contact.

“Latte.” Amelia looked pointedly at Jared. “What would you like?”

He shrank down in the chair, then looked up and spoke in timid tones. “Just coffee.”

Amelia interrupted the spate of options the waitress was about to list. “Just make it two lattes please, and a cheese platter, nothing too big, just a brie, a camembert and maybe a blue to give it a bit of a hit.” Once the woman had nodded and turned to leave, Amelia leaned a little across the table. “Are you ok with that?”

Jared looked at her for a moment before replying in a dour tone. “I don’t know what any of that was.”

Amelia took a deep breath, becoming increasingly frustrated with her inability to set this man at ease. “Well, if you don’t like any of it you shouldn’t feel obliged to eat it.”

There was no response, and Amelia looked out towards the street, projecting herself away from this uncomfortable situation. Silence fell at the table and Jared simply sat frozen. Annoyed at his inactivity, Amelia paused even in framing a waspish question. She was being unreasonable; he hadn't chosen to be here. It was her own fanciful idea that having found and revealed him he’d just issue forth with answers to everything she could think to ask.

Taking a deep breath she curtailed her agitation and tried a softer approach. “Have you always been good at drawing, at creating things?”

Jared looked at her for a moment before replying, seeming to weigh her question. Finally he shrugged. “It was always something I could do. I spend lots of time at it.”

Frowning, Amelia continued in the same light manner. “But you don’t really draw and create. You make shoes.”

The response was more quick this time, as he shifted position in the chair a little. “Not everything has to be out for all to see.” He looked up at her briefly.

Amelia didn’t understand that position; she’d always seen talent as something to be used for gain in the world around her. So much of her failed marriage had been about trying to push her husband to use the talent she was sure he had. Only years later, when the betrayal was laid out for her, did she realise Ethan didn’t really have it, or rather, what she wanted wasn’t important to him. And now she continued that original path herself. That someone could have an extraordinary talent and not use it to gain security, at the very least, was beyond her.

Amelia watched Jared intently until he began to fidget again. Part of her thought there was another Ted-like ruse being played out here, and that she’d soon uncover another layer of subterfuge. But what she was confronted with was something unexpected; it was surreal to her that this talent could be packaged in such unassuming wrapping.

Breathing deeply, Amelia wondered how she could prompt him to talk more openly. “Do you draw what you’ve seen, or is it imagination?”

Keeping his eyes downcast, Jared seemed to struggle with the question, and finally shrugged. “Don’t know what you mean.”

She spread her hands. “What comes out on paper, is it put together from lots of bits of things you’ve seen or does it all come out of your head?”

He lifted his eyes to her for a moment, something – perhaps excitement - momentarily overcoming his shyness. “I just see how things could be, what’s wrong, and what would make it better.”

“And nobody helps you?”

He pursed his lips. “Nobody.”

Amelia still struggled with his answers. “If you could, would you like lots of people to see what you’ve come up with?”

The reaction was immediate, Jared shrinking back in the chair. “No.”

He had a compulsion to create, but it was very private; a talent, an ability that didn’t need any acknowledgement to make it worthwhile, or valid. But he had looked in Amelia's direction when Ted showed her the designs; maybe there was something wanting to emerge, but downtrodden. Amelia frowned at him again. There was more to this man than she’d thought; there was nothing simple or straightforward about who he was.

Trying another approach, Amelia leaned forward again in her chair. “When you relax, what do you do? Television?”

He shook his head slightly. “Too loud. I read or draw.” The answer was prompt, Jared perhaps becoming a little more comfortable.

“You draw every night? All the time?” That seemed like extraordinary dedication and she doubted anyone could sustain that sort of energy.

For the first time Jared’s demeanour contained a little assertiveness. “I read more than I draw. There’s a second hand book store near me, I buy lots from there. But in notebooks I draw all the time; all sorts of things.”

Having been given an opening, Amelia didn’t want him to retreat, and if she needed to keep him at this level of agitation, so be it. She folded her arms, maintaining the appearance of disbelief. “Even the most energetic designers I’ve known don’t have that much to get down.”

The ploy backfired; instead of bristling further, Jared simply dropped his head and hunched over a little more, long locks falling across his forehead. Amelia felt immediately foolish; she couldn’t just open this man like a lock with the right key. Something had made him this way, this closed and insular, and it was going to take time to gain his trust.

She pursed her lips. If she wanted his trust, that was.

Why she was concentrating on this man? Somehow seeing him, with so much shrouded talent, languishing and timid, reminded her a little of what she’d done with her own life. Years of university, years of travel and itinerant work in Europe, coming back to focus on the hope of a family and a stable life, only to have it fall apart. Now, in her early forties, she felt the same frustration she had at eighteen, and an almost desperate need to make up for the time she’d lost.

Trying again to identify the fascination Jared held for her, Amelia knew there was a simple nobility in his resolve to remain faceless. There was no desire for fame or glory or riches; he’d saved Coremade to keep a job, and given all the credit for the new range to a buffoon who didn’t know he’d been involved. In the end he’d only been uncovered because of a surreptitious glance.

Amelia decided to abandon playing games to draw everything out of him immediately, and instead conceded that to learn his secrets would take much longer. “Jared, I’m not questioning whether you do what you say. I was just trying to get you to talk.” She took a deep breath and then returned her gaze to him. “I don’t want you to get anxious about this, but I’d like to talk to you again. I’m hoping you’ll see I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to, I just think there’s a quiet way you could help me make this company better.”

For a brief moment his expression became unguarded again. “You want to talk to me again?”

She nodded slowly. “I do. Yes.”

Jared fidgeted in the chair again, like a cornered animal that was looking for any avenue to escape. As physical flight wasn’t readily available he made a clumsy attempt to use language. “I can’t do anything you need.”

Amelia smiled. “Jared, don’t worry about anything. I just want you to try and relax a little. Just a bit. Try and talk to me.” She spread her hands. “You don’t even have to make conversation, I’ll just ask questions and you can answer them if you like, or I’ll keep asking different ones until we find one you like. Nothing else, I promise.”

He screwed his face up into a frown. “Why would you waste your time on me?”

She wasn’t agitated with him but she chose this moment to be firm. “I need you to listen to me, Jared. You have a talent, and it’s remarkable. I just want you to help me a little. If you trust me you’ll see it will hardly take any effort at all.”

The waitress brought them coffee and the cheese platter. Jared kept his hands firmly anchored in his lap and Amelia watched his timid appraisal of the fare in front of them with amusement. Taking the cheese fork, she sliced through the corner of the cheddar, then the brie, dropping them onto a water cracker before handing it to him. “Please, try this.”

She held it out towards him and when he realised she wouldn’t simply withdraw it and ignore him as he hoped, Jared finally glanced from side to side and then gingerly took the food from her. Quickly, Amelia fashioned another, and lifting it, she smiled and deposited the whole cracker in her mouth. Jared mimicked her action, and Amelia smiled at the first reluctant, then more eager approach.

Amelia smiled. “How about in return for your talking to me I show you some of this place’s wonderful food?” She swallowed. “That sounds like a fair swap to me.” He looked anxious, perhaps at the thought that he’d have to come back here again, and she tried to assuage his fears. “It’s a nice friendly place, there’s never many people here, and you can do whatever you want.”

Jared stopped chewing for a moment and regarded Amelia directly. A range of thoughts seemed to play through his mind, and then something inside him seemed to relinquish its grip and he looked around the restaurant with a more appraising demeanour. Whilst out of his comfort zone and unbalanced, the world hadn’t ended and remarkably, he was beginning to relax a little.

“Just here, and I don’t have to walk in by myself?” The hesitant tone of his voice suggested the difficulty he had in revealing this nervousness.

“Never by yourself.” Amelia cast a shrewd expression at the untouched latte next to him. “You said you drink coffee?”

He nodded. “Sometimes.”

“Instant though right?” At his imperceptible nod, she continued. “They make spectacular coffee here, try it.”

Dutifully Jared’s hand edged across the table and he gently lifted the glass to his lips. After the first sip Amelia could see the approving expression on his face, and then he drained the rest of the small glass quickly. Licking the froth from his lips he said quietly, “That was good.”

Lifting her own glass to her lips, Amelia described its qualities. “They use freshly ground Brazilian beans, the froth is light, the bubbles are tiny and even, and not too thin, and the milk isn’t burnt. Good coffee should always be cool enough to drink straight away.”

They stayed for another fifteen minutes or so before Amelia acknowledged that Jared’s hiatus of agitation in the name of new sensations was steadily waning. Not wanting to push the fragile trust that she hoped was building, Amelia nodded towards the waitress for the bill.

Jared frowned and the fidgeting returned in full force. “I don’t have very much money.”

“Don’t worry about it, this won’t be very much.” Amelia slipped a folded note onto the plate when the waitress returned, careful that Jared wouldn’t see how much it had cost.

He scuttled around the table after her as she left, and they travelled in silence back to Kensington. When they pulled up in front of the small supermarket again, Jared nodded in her direction briefly and gently eased the door open. Amelia turned to him. “Now are you going to be ok if I want to talk to you again?”

Jared got out of the car and turned back before answering. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

Amelia tried to look up at him and catch his gaze, but only just managed to meet his eyes briefly before he stood a little more upright. “If you can help me resolve some of these designs, even just a little, it will be worth it. I promise. Same time next Thursday? Right here at six, that way nobody ever has to know I’m talking to you.”

Pushing the door shut, Jared mumbled a single word before it closed. “Ok.”

Amelia watched his hunched posture as he walked back into the supermarket with his hands deep in his pockets, and wondered if she’d ever be able to reach what was lurking beneath his almost impregnable facade. Taking a deep breath, she resolved that if he turned up, she’d keep trying with him.