Seven Point Eight (37 page)

Would he finally share his secrets with her?

 
“What things are you not proud of?” she asked.

At that point, he looked at her with a fleeting expression of terror.

“Things you should not concern yourself with,” he said, in a direct albeit not rude manner.

Tahra sighed, wishing this didn’t feel so much like fighting a losing battle.

“I’m just trying to protect you,” he responded.

“Protect me from what? I want to understand you,” she pushed.

Max stopped and now he began to look frustrated.

“Are you sure you want to understand me? Would you like what you found? Why can’t you be content with what you can see?”

Tahra looked at him intently.

“Because what I can see runs deep, I can see into the heart of a person and if I perceive darkness in a man’s soul, then I need to understand it before I can accept it. I need to find
forgiveness.
”

He exhaled with exasperation, and reached out with his fingers to touch her cheek.

“What are you afraid of?” she asked him.

The fear became apparent behind the mask, his plan beginning to fall apart.

“Why did you bring me out here?” she asked.
       

“To resurrect what we had,” he answered, moving closer to her. “To offer to share with you what I have in this world.” He looked for her response, although her expression exposed little of the nature of her thoughts. “This home…it could all be yours too,” he continued, “you’d never want for anything. I’m a rich man, but I’m also a rich, single man.
Tonight has made me realise that I need you in my life again.
Do you need me in your life again?”

Behind her gold mask, Tahra closed her eyes, aware of the residual attraction she’d been repressing. True, he had a lot to offer, but would it be a terrible mistake? Did she
trust
him?

He took advantage of her hesitation and moved in to kiss her.
She reciprocated without persuasion and felt her body respond more intensely than before, like a drug addict succumbing to their worst vice. However, despite what her most primitive emotions told her, the image of Max servicing the woman from behind reared its ugly head. She couldn’t forget…she couldn’t forgive. This wasn’t a kiss to resurrect a relationship, it was a goodbye kiss.

Withdrawing his lips from hers, he looked for a reaction.

“So, what is it to be?”

The words of resentment, disgust and heartbreak jammed in her throat, and because she didn’t immediately accept his offer, Max began to feel frustrated. After a long silence, Tahra took a deep breath.

“Love cannot be bought, it has to be earned. You speak as if nothing terrible ever happened between us.”

Max’s stance altered to one that seemed more belligerent.

“Any other woman would have married me long ago,” he pointed out, clearly losing his patience.

Tahra narrowed her eyes.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not any woman.”

Max found it hard to remain tolerant.

“What more do you want, Tahra?” he asked, brow furrowing, words expressed with more vehemence.

“I want a man who respects me, who doesn’t hide things, who…doesn’t think with his penis! I want a man who isn’t afraid to show who he really is, who admits when he’s wrong, who…”

She choked back the tears, and began to move away from him.

“I…” he began, although didn’t continue.

Tahra lifted the skirt of her dress and strode away, humiliated by the tears that stung her eyes.

How dare he insult her by expecting her to drop everything and fall at his feet because he had riches!

How dare he gloss over what he’d done!

How dare he express indignation at her reaction when his own sordid deeds had broken her heart!

She stormed up the path, fighting back the heaving sobs that threatened to let all the hurt spill out. Passing a stone statue of a crouching gargoyle, she glared at it and without thinking, she pushed it hard and it fell over.

A minute later, she found herself amongst the congregation again, the warmth air hitting her skin after the interlude outside. She stood still, trying to regain her composure and in her bewilderment, someone came to the rescue.

“I’m sorry, I’ve barely paid you attention all night,” Paul said.

Tahra released all her hurt and broke into a relieved smile.

“It’s…okay.”

She hoped he didn’t notice how her voice faltered. Because she didn’t want to draw attention to her emotionally charged state, she made a decision.

“Dance with me,” she said.

Tahra steered him to a space, and he took up a stance neither too intimate nor too aloof. Glancing over, she noticed Max had re-entered the room and he stood like a deer caught in car headlights. Tahra shot him a look that projected daggers, and turned her attention back to Paul, trying to quell the internal conflict that raged within her.

As they danced and made polite conversation, it occurred to Tahra what she truly wanted in life. Two diametrically opposed men had entered her life, one an angel and one a demon. She closed her eyes and savoured the sensation of Paul holding her, and soaked up his warmth, wisdom, and kindness. After that brief moment of revelation, she opened her eyes and made a resolution. She had something important to tell Paul.

“Can I speak to you about something?” she said.

He stopped dancing, a little concerned and replied, “Of course, is there a problem with the project?”

Tahra took his hand and led him through the house, checking that Max hadn’t noticed. Thankfully, he’d become engrossed in conversation with someone in a purple tailcoat. She and Paul
wandered onto the patio area at the back of the house and sat on a wall. Tahra removed her mask and without thinking, Paul did the same.

“What did you want to speak to me about?” he asked her.

She didn’t answer straightaway, and took a deep breath.

“Well, kind of,” she began. “It’s just that…”

Oh, what the hell…

 
“I think I’m falling in love with you,” she said.

Paul didn’t respond. Rather than dismiss her declaration, he actually seemed to be genuinely touched by her words, as opposed to simply being flattered. She looked at him in expectation, but he didn’t know what to say.

“What are you thinking?” she asked him.

Paul opened his mouth to speak, but still nothing issued from his lips.

“I can’t pretend I don’t,” she added. “Please tell me you feel the same.”

Finally, he responded, still fighting to express what he truly felt.

“Tahra, I’m in a relationship with Eleanor, a happy one.”

She felt her heart sink at his response.

“So, you’re happy with her?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“Do you love her?” she pressed.

The question caught him unawares, and he appeared to swallow hard.

“Do you love her?” Tahra repeated.

“What do you think?” he asked her, still unable to answer the question.

“I think that you’re comfortable with her and you like her company, but you don’t love her.”

Paul only responded with silence, as if someone wonderful had just unexpectedly punched him. Tahra noted her words had found the target and waited for his response. Unseen by both of them, Eleanor moved away from the doorway to the patio, shaken. Reaction hidden behind her mask, she abruptly left and returned to the dining room. Neither Paul nor Tahra noticed her.

“Tahra,” Paul said, “I can’t get involved with you, I can’t. We need to maintain a friendly but professional relationship. Besides, I’m twice your age. Wouldn’t you rather find a nice guy your own age?”

For the second time that night, she felt a sense of sheer and utter frustration.

“I’m sorry I said anything,” she said.

Tahra fled the scene, face flushing with humiliation and in a dazed state, she located Max’s driver.

“Please, take me back to The Institute.”

He relented and Tahra grabbed her coat, following the driver to the Daimler. From behind his mask, Max watched her depart, noting her clearly emotional state. Bitterly, he downed the remainder of his champagne and returned to the celebrations.

Meanwhile, in the Daimler, Tahra stared out of the window, allowing the tears to flow.

What a great start to the New Year.

Max had fired her anger, and Paul had disappointed her, albeit for sound moral reasons. However, she couldn’t deny her affection for Paul. She hoped one day, the tide would turn in her favour. However, as she watched the streets of
London
draw into view once more, she made a determined resolution.

Why wait for the tide to turn in her favour?

Why not command the tide, so it turned at her will?

Reflecting on her ability to move the emotions of others, Tahra decided to use her God given talents to attract what she needed in life. She’d win Paul’s heart, no matter.

***

A week into the New Year, Paul sat at his desk, perusing his NASA clippings with an absent mind. The excitement of Project OOBE seemed to pull everything into its gravity, awakening and challenging other facets of his life. Tahra’s admonition that night had left him unsettled.

Despite being in a settled relationship with Eleanor, that declaration of love had meant something to him. He’d developed a reverence and respect for Tahra through working alongside her, and he cared about her wellbeing. However, his response had been the correct one. He just couldn’t get romantically involved with her, even if he were single. She was such a young girl, and it would feel like taking advantage, exploiting her naivety. Perhaps, due to her age, this crush would eventually pass and they wouldn’t have to address the matter again.

No matter, Eleanor’s behaviour towards him had subtly altered.

The phone rang and Paul valued its intrusion into his poor concentration. On answering, he heard Max’s voice on the other end of the line and they went through the customary greetings. Max queried the OOBE project’s progress.

 
“Well, we haven’t found life on other planets yet,” Paul joked.

He heard a soft chuckle escape Max’s lips.

“It’s not the reason for my call,” Max explained. “I’ve just received some feedback from one of my contacts about that encounter with the orbital capsule.”

Paul had almost forgotten about that.

“It seems there may be something in Tahra’s belief that someone in the capsule saw her,” Max continued. “It’s in a top secret report, so we’ll never see it become official, but the astronaut claims to have seen an orb of light outside the capsule. It’s being regarded as a UFO encounter.”

After hanging up the phone, the significance of that statement hit Paul. Tahra’s consciousness had manifested in the physical realm, taking the form of light. That would mean consciousness itself could take the form of photons, and if that were the case, it had the potential to travel at the speed of light.