Today I spent time with a close friend - one whose views I respect and whose spirit I admire. We came together to celebrate her birthday and those ties of relationship which connect us.
To  share a meal, impressions  and ideas- these are special friendship things - and we had fun.
We share a family relationship too, which layers the time we spend together with a bond of deep affection. Happy times.

Our day closed with  wildlife, good coffee and baking cosy-sticky with comfort flavours. Awesome.

and the ancient ones said:
three boons for a friend: let them be to you a second self; let not their misery estrange you from them; do for their memory what you would do if they yet lived.


Chapter 5 continues:

They were still laughing when the taxi dropped them off in Domain Drive. Bill’s key in the latch changed everything.

“Go on through” Bill tossed his jacket over the hall stand hook and turned to set the deadlock. It was very still in the apartment. Mutely he guided her to the next doorway with a light hand on her back. They came out into the sitting room. It was flanked by French doors, opposite them now, which opened into a small courtyard. Garden lighting there threw a potted yucca into sharp relief.

Rhona remained standing in the middle of the room, clutching her evening bag.

“Come through”, he gestured to the right towards another door. “I’ll fix us a drink.”

She followed him through to the kitchen. He placed a chilled sauvignon blanc and the glasses on the table.

“Look, come and sit over here. The view is nicer.” He moved the glasses to a high backed settle facing the window and gestured to her to go first. She had to go past him and slide into the seat.

“Hold on.” he said, flashing back to the sitting room. He returned with a burgundy bakelite ashtray.

His attention was on opening the wine now. “Yes– shall I pour?”

She nodded and he did so, studying the operation as if he had never previously performed such a feat. He lit a cigarette and passed it to her, lighting another for himself

Finally he turned to look at her, lifting his glass and saying “I wanted everything to be perfect but I …” He didn’t try to finish the sentence because she was smiling at him with her glass raised in a toast. She said softly “Good health and long life.”

Later Rhona was fingering one of the wooden netsuke grouped on the table. It was a ball shape, carved with lifelike intertwining mice. She remarked how much Charlie would like it. Noticing the way Bill visibly bristled she took his hand and put the netsuke into it as she said “Charlie and Paul have been partners for ten years or more Bill. He’s not interested in women.”

 “Sorry, I guess I just assumed after Philip said…” He replaced the netsuke in the group and began rearranging them, avoiding her gaze.

“He said you preferred older men, basically. That’s what all that fuss was about back then wasn’t it- that Dean and the other guy?”

Rhona spoke quietly to the little wooden group on the table. “”What possible relevance can it have?”

“Look, I’ve read the old papers. I saw you with that guy Drago.”

“I see”. The flatness was back in her tone. 

She looked at him as if he was a cabinet specimen. “Are you listening? I am only going to say this once: it was a life drawing class.”

Bill gave it a few seconds before he asked “One more question?” She didn’t reply, so he pressed on. “Why did you make out you couldn’t draw?”

 “Because I can’t”

He stood up then and moved away from the settle, to stand facing the garden. “For God’s sake” he said in a disbelieving tone. Glancing over his shoulder he said “I read  you were the most talented student of that year.”

Rhona sat dragging her hands through her hair. She spoke as if to someone severely retarded. “I can’t draw. I haven’t been able to draw for twenty-five years – not since that time. … Oh, it doesn’t matter”

Bill came bounding back when he heard that. “Yes it bloody matters.” He was leaning aggressively over the table at her. Rhona slid out of her seat and said in a tired voice “I am going home now.” He grabbed her wrist as she made to pass him. “Tell me or it will be there all through everything.” Her fists clenched. He reached down and took those two fists in his own hands. She flexed to resist him, showing immense strength for her size. He shifted his grip to her forearms, forcing her loose sleeves up her arm.

Under his right forefinger Bill felt a ridge on the inside of her arm just above the wrist. It was a ripple running horizontally there. He found the same ridge on her other arm. As she gathered herself to snatch them away he forced her wrists over to the light behind him. They were old scars, badly stitched.

He tried to breathe more calmly. “I’m going to talk. I’m not letting go. You hear me?” She closed her eyes and stopped resisting him. Shifting his hold to embrace her from behind he said in a quiet even voice.

“I was right. It does matter. You had a breakdown over that fiasco, didn’t you? He had his mouth on her hair. “Christ I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”  She remained passive under his hand until he said “It’s after one o’clock. I had better call a taxi, unless...”

“No. I’m ready to go home. I’m sure you understand that.”

It wasn’t quite how Bill visualised the climax to their evening, but he saw her into the taxi and waved her off. He supposed she would be all right.