All Tomorrow's Parties (11 page)

Laine had developed a passion for fish and seafood since her sushi initiation and was keen to find out what the catch of the day may be. The waiter introduced himself as Francesco and was falling over himself to make sure the girls were comfortable and had everything they needed.

“Well he certainly loves his job”, said Ella once Francesco had left.

“It’s so nice to be outside for a change. It’s very rare to be able to do this in London and it be enjoyable”, said Laine

“Yeah I know. Well my friend, here we are happy as two pigs in mud - who could want for more eh?” said Ella looking out towards Main Street.

“Well maybe a little bit of Andy action would seal it for you eh Ella?” smiled Laine. Francesco returned with some house wine and to take their order.

Although tempted by the fish both Laine and Ella decided on Pizza, Laine went for fungi whilst Ella went for the calzone.

“I know I’ve had pizza before but this will be my first real one”, said Laine excitedly.

“It’s certainly a popular place, isn’t it?” said Ella. Laine turned around to see that by now most of the tables had filled up with either couples or families. Traditional Italian music was playing softly in the background. “This place has a real sense of happiness about it”, said Laine

“Yeah you can tell a lot by how a place feels”, Ella agreed.

Francesco was bringing two men over to one of the few remaining vacant tables just behind the girls. Both men were tall and dark - more tourists, thought Laine, as she turned back to find Ella refilling her glass.

“Steady on Ella, we haven’t eaten yet”, said Laine.

“Ah yes Laine, but as they say, when in Rome or in our case Jeselo….” laughed Ella, chinking their glasses together.

The meal was a roaring success, Laine loved the pace of the Italian way of eating. Nothing was rushed and the girls found that they had taken over an hour to finish the pizza. In between they gossiped and put the world to rights.

“You know Ella, I really think I’m a bit of a socialist at heart. I always want what’s best for the little guys and hate the way that the big fish always seem to push down those who are weaker or more vulnerable. Take Maggie Thatcher for example: she’s turning our country into a really selfish nation. She is so right wing it’s not funny, and just don’t even get me started on her selling off council homes. You know Ella I wouldn’t be surprised if she was trying to emulate the American system, all trigger happy and what’s in it for number one, it does make my blood boil you know.” Laine looked up at Ella for a response.

Ella had fixed her gaze over Laine’s shoulder and was staring intently.

“Did you hear what I said El?” said Laine, a little bit exasperated

“I heard you Laine, but religion and politics always stir people up and right now I’m afraid my mind’s on something else”, said Ella softly.

“What?” said Laine, lowering her tone and moving forward towards Ella.

“I think those two guys behind have been listening to our conversation for a fair while”, whispered Ella.

“Looks like they’re getting up to leave though – quick, start talking about something”, said Ella.

“Right well, as I was saying I can’t decide if this blue dress goes with these white sandals or not and…”

“Excuse me ladies, would you mind if my friend and I joined you?”

Both Ella and Laine turned.

The two guys who had been sitting behind them were now standing by the two empty chairs at their table. The accent was undoubtedly American.

Ella smiled. “Of course you can join us, how lovely.”

Laine glared at Ella. Great, she thought - Americans, just what we need. Laine was not over-enamoured by the American culture, she saw it as aggressive and selfish. Everything seemed to have to be bigger than it need be and they seemed to have a very arrogant view of their place in the world, which was just wrong. To be fair, the only Americans Laine had encountered thus far had been tourists in central London. Well I’ll just have to keep my mouth shut and let Ella do all of the talking, thought Laine. Ella appeared to come alive with the appearance of the two Americans.

“Would you like some wine?” she asked.

“My name’s Ella and this is my friend Laine”, said Ella in an amusingly excited voice. Maybe it’s the accents, mused Laine, who was entertained by the way Ella was now behaving.

“Well I’m John and this here is Pete”, said John, refilling Laine’s glass. Laine caught John’s eye. He has the most amazingly deep brown, soft, warm eyes, thought Laine. She felt a tingle, the sensation of goose bumps run up her spine. At that instant she felt as though his eyes had just seen into her very soul. Although the eye contact was fractionally longer than it should have been, Laine felt as though they had been staring at each other for ages.

Her face felt flushed and she could feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins. Her emotions were acting on impulse, a feeling she was not sure she liked. What on earth was going on, she thought to herself, have I had too much wine or too much sun, since when have I been attracted to Americans? I must be going bonkers, losing it good and proper, she thought. Rationally her feelings made no sense, yet deep deep down in the very heart of her being, Laine sensed the dawning of new untried emotions. She had a sense of this man. This was the only way words could describe it. She knew a truth about him that defied explanation.

“Well you girls both have beautiful names. Tell me Laine, where’s your name from?” said John, cutting into her thoughts. His deep North American accent washed over her, infecting her with its honeyed tones. Pull it together girl, she told herself.

“It’s a traditional English name meaning path…it also means wave in Finnish, so I’ve been told. My mother said she chose it because she wanted me to have a constant path in my life not a dead end”, said Laine in her “this is annoying me, please stop asking me questions” voice.

“Well I am glad I have crossed your path Laine.” John’s voice oozed with kindness; his words were as soft as the night was warm. The words John spoke, if they had been spoken by anyone else, would have made her throw up. She would have headed for the hills and no mistaking. But spoken by John the words took on truth and reality: he meant them and she knew it. Pete and Ella had struck up a conversation about Italian food and Ella seemed to be shining with the undivided attention she was getting from Pete who insisted on calling her “Red” because of her auburn hair.

Laine could not take her eyes off John, nor he off her. She was fighting with every piece of logic she had and she was losing badly. It was as though a magnetic force had locked them both in place: neither one could look away without causing the other pain. Laine had never before experienced anything remotely like this. This is completely irrational and so far away from reality that I must be having some kind of emotional breakdown, she thought. This man is making me behave in ways that are just not normal. Laine was desperate to hold onto who she thought she was. Her path however seemed to have other ideas.

Her subconscious had picked up on it the first time she looked into John’s eyes: a part of her soul had lain dormant, silently waiting. John’s presence had started to unfurl it, to speak to it. Exhilarated and unnerved, Laine shifted nervously in her seat. Completely freaked out - yes, frightened – no, in need of more wine? Abso-bloody-lutely. 

Conversations in Laine’s head were trying to make sense of something that just didn’t make sense. She resolved to do what she always did. She accepted she didn’t get it and embraced it.

Pete Shepherd and John Travis were not tourists but American soldiers from the first armoured division stationed at Aviano Air base near Trieste; they had been there for about six months and had another six to go.
Both were engineers responsible for servicing nuclear missiles kept at the base. Laine sat up straight, a shudder ran through her. How is this even possible? she thought. It had not even entered her head for one second that their holiday destination may be so close to something so terrifying.

These men represented everything she despised; they service nuclear missiles for goodness sakes. Her head was not able to figure any of this out, she felt faint and nauseous. “Hey guys Francesco wants to close - how about a walk on the beach?” said Ella. They looked around and realised they were the only ones still in the pizzeria. It was well after midnight, time had vanished into the night sky.

Ella linked arms with Pete as they walked down Main Street. Laine was not sure what to do and, it appeared, neither did John. They walked side by side until they reached the beach, trying to make small talk. Laine discovered that John had just got divorced. He had two children, two girls aged four and five. She could tell how much he missed them by the way he spoke about them. His voice softened and there was a loving hue around his words when he described them. They were his world.

Laine had tried as diplomatically as possible to explain why she was so against nuclear weapons and the futility of war. She had cited numerous battles which in her mind were not fought for liberty or freedom but for greed and power. He listened quietly. He had looked at her with those Labrador eyes. He agreed the world was messed up but he needed to support his family, his girls needed him to work, it was his job and he was good at it.

In that moment she saw and understood the reality of living. The angst and hatred she had developed over time was dissipating. Sometimes we don’t have a choice, she thought. Her beliefs were based on rational thinking and the theory of all men being equal. The reality that now confronted her was one man’s need to provide for his family. The reality was that all things were not equal. Yes, she could get high and mighty and hold high values. She could even get on her high moral horse but the truth of the matter was that his job fed his kids and right now that’s all that mattered to him.

Had the actions and decisions she made in life made her blameless? Far from it.

Ella and Pete were half a mile in front. Laine could still make out their linked arms, their footprints in the sand still outlining the way. The night had become cooler, Laine felt a chill brush over her arms.

“Laine let’s sit here a while”, said John, indicating the small jumble of rocks off to their left. They sat quietly and stared out towards the ocean, the moon was almost full and glinted off of the sea. The lights behind them had one by one started to dim as the bars closed for the evening.

“The Adriatic is so beautiful”, said Laine.

“The beauty of the Adriatic is nothing compared to you Laine”, said John, carefully taking her hand. Blissful inner warmth moved across her body as his hand delicately moved across her back. Twists of electricity charged every strand of emotion. Any sense of logic and rationality now completely gone, sent packing back to the U.K. The focus was here and now, there was no before or after, only now. She willed him on to totally embrace her, and at that moment the revelation that this was what she was here for, he was who she was here for, flashed before her.

Coincidences do not exist: with every ounce of certainty she possessed, she knew this. She knew he was the one who could make her complete. She reached out to take his face and bring him closer to her, their eyes once again locked as if for all eternity, Laine, completely lost yet totally secure in the knowledge that she had now been completely found. Found in a way she could not even begin to verbalise. John stood up from the rock. Moving forward he embraced her; instinctively she wrapped her legs around his thighs. His kiss was like a complex mix of years of un-fulfilment.

His touch was soft yet powerful, hot and overwhelming, yet at the same time it was everything she wanted and at that moment needed. It was as though her whole body had been infected with a carnal desire to be with this man. He made her feel like a women. She knew now that she was in a place that she had never been to before. This was an indescribable state of euphoria, not only within but charged with electricity at each touch or mere hint of him. Laine Marshall at the tender age of 19 had been privileged enough to have been guided to a place called Love.

She knew that no matter what, no matter how deranged she felt and how totally off the planet this all was, he was somehow at the centre of her and bizarrely always had been. It was as though he had always been there. None of this was making sense; something that had lain dormant was now awakened. She was completely overcome. The beauty this revelation displayed engulfed and overwhelmed her, tears started to stream down her face. She gently pulled away from John’s embrace and their eyes locked once again. Laine saw the tears slowly falling from John’s cheeks. How is any of this possible? None of this makes any sense, she thought.

Ella and Pete could be heard coming towards them giggling incessantly. Laine and John both gained their composure and John slowly placed his arm around Laine’s waist as if to make a statement about what had just happened.

Both Ella and Pete carried on giggling.

“Hey John, we should head back to base. Ella’s suggested we can stay at theirs tonight - we’re on duty tomorrow so why don’t we head back to base, grab our kit and pull a 24-hour? Sound good to you buddy?” said Pete.

“Sure thing, remember where we parked the jeep?” asked John.

“Can we come with you?” pitched in Laine.

“Oh yes let’s - are we allowed on your base though?” questioned Ella.