Magic Sometimes Happens Part 7

'French is very easy for most English speakers.'

'Say something in French?'

'Je voudrais te baiser.'

'Meaning what?'

'It's very hot up here.'

'Let's go down then, grab a soda somewhere?'

'That would be good,' she said, but didn't get up. She was busy scrabbling and sc.r.a.ping like a rabbit scratching out a hole.

'Hey, you're not allowed to break off bits of Minnesota,' I said sternly when I realised what she was doing.

'Why is that?' she asked.

'It's probably a federal offence.'

'Oh, go on with you and anyway, it was already loose.' She scrutinised her rock. 'See how it sparkles in the suns.h.i.+ne?'

'The h.e.l.l with how it sparkles. This is a national monument, you know.'

'You mean like Mount St Helens? I bet it's jolly not. It's just a lump of rock above the Mississippi River.'

'It's a Mississippi bluff.'

'Okay, Professor Riley, it's a bluff. What's this kind of stone, I wonder?'

'I guess it's oneota dolomite. What you have there is limestone made from creatures which were living a million years ago.'

'What about the crystals?'

'They'll be quartz.'

'Gosh, aren't you well-informed?'

She twinkled at me and her eyes were brighter than the sparkles in the stone. 'Mythology, geology, technology and half a dozen other ologies I'm betting you're an expert on them all.'

'Now I come to think of it, Ben did mention something else about you.'

'Oh? What did he say?'

'You smuggled a suspicious British apple into the USA. Now you want to smuggle out a rock without a permit.' I shook my head and sighed. 'If you're not careful, Rosie, you'll end up in a facility where they re-educate women like you.'

'What do you mean, women like me?'

'Who break the rules.'

'What's the point of living if you don't break any rules?' She stood up now and stretched, her T-s.h.i.+rt riding high, revealing smooth, tanned skin. 'I want this for Dad. He has a collection of bits of foreign stone from all over the world. We I mean, I like to ...'

'What?'

'Oh, nothing,' she replied. 'Come on, Dr Riley, I'll race you to the parking lot.'

She took off down that trail like she was being chased by wolves. I stood there for a minute, several minutes. I watched her skitter down, dislodging little rocks and jumping bigger ones, a beautiful gazelle of a young woman, full of nervous grace.

Je voudrais te baiser.

You asked her to say something, say anything in French and that was the example came into her head. She didn't mean it personally.

ROSIE.

Je voudrais te baiser.

I would like to kiss you. Or that's the polite translation. What about the stone for Dad? Charlie had brought home all kinds of minerals for Dad. Smooth grey soapstone, striped red agate, polished turquoise Charlie went on voyages of discovery for one reason only, risking life and suffering extreme discomfort in those last few places where even Coca-Cola hadn't yet set up its stall, to collect rare geological samples for our father.

This was the usual family joke or fiction, anyway.

Dad kept the samples in a china bowl in his study. I wasn't really sure if I should add to the collection, if it would hurt him more than it would please him. But- 'Rosie?'

'Yes?'

'You're about a million miles away.' Pat had caught up with me and now he frowned. 'Do you have something on your mind?'

'I'm fine.' I forced myself to smile at him. 'I'm enjoying getting good fresh air and exercise. I'm having a great time.' It was almost true. But I hadn't meant to have great times. It was not appropriate that I should have great times.

So I didn't know why I felt happy not laughing, singing, giggling happy, but contented, cared-about and quiet happy. Why, as we went down the trail, I glanced at Patrick Riley and was suddenly overwhelmed with sadness because he wasn't mine.

What business did I have to think of him at all? Why had I told him I would like to kiss him, more than kiss him? It was just as well he knew no French. But it didn't have to be this way. I didn't have to let him get to me. Soon I would be going home and then I could forget him and all the confusing feelings and emotions he aroused in me. Balance, moderation Patrick Riley's personal attraction genie didn't know the meaning of those words.

I ran on ahead.

But I didn't look where I was going and all of a sudden something slammed right into me. My foot felt like it had been hit with twenty, thirty hammers. My head began to spin and I felt sick with pain. My eyes filled up, spilled over.

I half slumped, half fell on the hard ground. I started crying and I found I couldn't stop. 'I h-hurt my foot,' I stammered when he had caught up with me and asked me what was wrong and I could finally trust myself to tell him. 'These t-trainers weren't designed to run up mountains.'

'Trainers oh, you mean your sneakers, right?'

He hunkered down beside me, dark eyes serious and kind. I didn't want him to be kind. I wanted him to tell me to get up and not make such a fuss. But he did nothing of the sort. 'They do look kind of flimsy,' he agreed, as if it were the trainers' fault, not mine for choosing them, for running up and down a mountain in them. 'I guess you smacked into that boulder, yeah?'

But I could only nod.

'You think you've broken anything?'

'I h-hope I haven't.'

'You have any feeling in your toes?'

'Yes, just a bit.' I tried to wipe away the snot and tears, scrubbing with my hands. 'I can wriggle all of them and it d-doesn't hurt to flex my foot. I've stubbed one toe, that's all. Let me h-have a moment and then we can go on.'

'You can walk?'

'I'll try.'

'It isn't very far back to the parking lot and it's all downhill. Why don't I carry you?'

'You can't do that, I'm heavy!'

'What do you weigh?'

'Oh, I don't know about eight stone?'

'What's that in pounds?'

'I couldn't tell you, I'm afraid.'

'Come on,' he said, and now his eyes were dark as night, were hypnotising me. 'You put your arms around my neck ...'

To my surprise, I did as I was told. He picked me up with ease. 'Yeah, it's like I thought,' he said. 'You must weigh about as much as Polly.'

'Polly?'

'She's my little girl.'

'How old is Polly?'

'Almost three.'

'I must weigh much more than Polly, then.'

'Yeah, perhaps you do.' He smiled at me and started walking. 'You definitely have more ma.s.s.'

PATRICK.

Why did I do that? Why did I carry Rosie? Why did I grab the opportunity to hold her in my arms? I couldn't help myself, that's why.

She stubbed her toe, she said. Okay, she might have hurt her foot. I'm not suggesting she was lying. That old boulder probably hit her hard. But no one cries like that for a stubbed toe. No one gulps and sobs as if their heart is broken when they stub a toe. This was grief, long-standing, pent-up grief, something I knew all about from- But let's stick with Rosie for the moment.

When we got back to the Merc, I helped her to get in, got in myself. I pushed the key in the ignition, turned the air con up to full. 'Do you want to tell me, Rosie?'

'Tell you what?'

'Why you were crying fit to break your heart back there?'

'I hurt my foot,' she said, but wouldn't look at me.

'What else?'

'What do you mean?' she snapped. 'There there's nothing else!'

'Oh, come on. You're sad, upset or worried. I can tell.'

'I ... well, I'm feeling homesick, I suppose.'

'You'll soon be going back to the UK.'

'I bashed my foot quite hard.'

'Yeah, you hit that boulder at ninety miles an hour, and so it's bound to hurt. But hey, it could be worse n.o.body died.'

She kind of choked. Okay, maybe that was cra.s.s of me. But I didn't mean to sound unsympathetic. 'Let's go find a drugstore, get some Tylenol,' I added.

'What's Tylenol?'

'A painkiller, it's good.'

'I have a box of aspirin in my bag.' She found it, popped a couple tablets out.

'Do you need water? We could go get water.'

'No, I'll swallow them without.'

'Okay.' I changed the subject. 'You and Tess, you go way back?'

'Oh, no,' she replied. 'We met last year, at one of f.a.n.n.y's parties.'

'f.a.n.n.y's who?'

'I think I mentioned her while we were all at Ben's, while I was telling you about my job?'

'Okay, remind me?'

'She was my boss in London. She runs a very successful PR and promotions company. f.a.n.n.y was at school with my mother and she's always been a family friend. I joined her firm when I left university got in through the back door.'

'I'm sorry?'

'f.a.n.n.y offered me a job because she knows my parents.'

'She offered you a job because you're smart. Tell me about this party?'

'f.a.n.n.y's always having parties. She was giving one to help promote a client's range of gorgeous frocks. She got Tess and another pretty girl to model stuff. We clicked, and Tess came over often when I worked in Paris.'

'You like Paris?'

'Yes, I love it it's my favourite city.'

'You and Tess, you're very different. I'm a dumb American, of course, but I can hear you speak with different accents, that she's kind of sa.s.sy, you're refined?'