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"There is no wall," she told him, trying her best to hide the laughter in her voice. She was not laughing at him. The laughter inside her was one of happiness, about being so close to him now, and close to changing his life along with her own by carefully choosing her next words. He seemed to have similar thoughts, judging from the way he was looking at her. "There is no wall," she repeated. "Want to try it? Touch me." His eyes became large and round, but he smiled. He reached for her hand. He did so rather abruptly, as though he seriously expected to be stopped by something mid-air. But there was nothing. He took her hand, in a movement clumsy but firm. His own hand was cold. "See," she said, smiling at him. "Your theory is wrong. There is no wall." "Oh," he said, smiling more broadly now. "There is a wall all right. But you are the only one who has ever managed to get behind it. I guess you made a lot of effort. You are extraordinary." He cleared his throat. "I mean, you are special." "To you?" she asked, her eyes twinkling. He nodded. "Nothingman?" she asked, very carefully. "Yes?" His eyes were twinkling too. "You can get even closer to me if you like," she said in a conspiratory voice. "Come on. Kiss me." And from there they went on. But it was never easy. She had to constantly reassure him. It was a lot of work. She had her own worries too. But she did not share them with him, or just to the smallest degree, as she knew he would not understand them. He would be swamped by the task of advising her, and incapable of helping her. "I am fed up of working so much," she once told him, without thinking. "Then quit working at that place," he said, without hesitation. "I can see it’s tiring you." "You are a cutie," she retorted, half annoyed. "I need the money. I can’t just quit." He studied her with this big eyed look of his. "Is it money you need? Let me help you. My parents give me some each month. I can spare part of that sum." She couldn’t believe it. "Let’sjust pretend I didn’t hear that," she said, barely capable of keeping the anger out of her voice. "I don’t need, and don’t want, a man to look after me. I am earning my own money. And I never want to have this discussion again." He was quiet, and never metioned the topic again. He continued to talk to her about his isolation, his hopes, and his dreams. She was still proud to be the only person who had ever been close to him, and she wanted things to stay that way. It was just that sometimes she was so tired, from work, from studies, and there he was, always, with his never ending desire of being close to her. If she didn’t want to meet him one day, he immediately took that as a sign of her having gone off him. He was always afraid of losing her, and she couldn’t bear the sign of fear in his eyes, the uncertainty in his voice, so she spent almost all her free time with him, day after day. She neglected her studies, she neglected her friends. They were heading for disaster, she thought, but it was like being on a roller coaster, she couldn’t get off, she didn’t know what to do. "You know what my favourite place in this world is?" he asked her one day, while they were in bed, faces still glowing from the things they had done before. "What is it?" she asked him, with a smile that was no longer as natural as it had been in the beginning. "Have you heard of the Aran Islands? In Ireland?" She nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, sure," she said, "I was there before I came to Nottingham. When I went travelling around Europe. I saw a couple of places in Ireland, but the Aran Islands was one of the spots I liked best." Memories came back to her that seemed to belong to another life. The stone walls of Inis Mór, the whitewashed cottage that had been her hostel. She had travelled with friends then, she had been carefree, with no ties, no guilt, and no expectations in her, apart from the hostel owner who expected to be paid the nightly fee for the bunk bed in the dormitory she slept in. She had walked and cycled all over the island with her friends. She had got drunk in pubs at night, she had even considered smoking marijuana, but backed out in the last minute. She had been alive then. But what was she now? Where was her life? His voice startled her out of her thoughts. "I’ve been to the biggest of the Aran Islands a couple of times. Inis Mór. I really love that place. It’s magical, it just oozes peace. It makes me feel whole, even when I am alone." He looked at her with a solemn expression. "It was my safe haven, a place to restore my batteries in. I mean, before I met you." Continued On Next Page (thing, Page 3) ... AUTHOR: Andrea Lutz  TAGS: Literary Work Life Love time people europe world Home BOOKMARK: Digg it | Add to Del.ICIO | Add to FARK ACTIONS: Comment Save Print Register free acount  |
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