Chapter
1
I am sitting alone in the car, by
the side of the river. It is night time. I look at my watch to check the time.
The clock on the dashboard isn’t working. Actually it is working. It’s just
that it’s set to the wrong time and has been for as long as I can remember. I’m
not sure if I know how to reset it. Or I can’t be bothered messing around.
There is a certain comfort in knowing that it is completely wrong.
It seems to
jump to a different time every time I start the engine, suddenly leaping forwards
ten minutes or so. I think that means that unlike a stopped watch, it’s
probably not even correct twice a day. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it does give the
right time twice a day. I shrug to myself. It doesn’t really matter I suppose.
I look at my watch. It is a
little before 11.00 o’clock. I have a lot of time to spare. There is no need to
make a move yet. I stare out of the windscreen and look at the lights from the
opposite side reflecting on the water. It is really calm. There is not a breath
of wind in the air. The river seems to be barely moving although I know it must
be. The water is as flat as a sheet of glass, just swaying gently. It is like a
black mirror. The only thing that I can see moving is a container ship slowly
heading off to sea. I wonder where it’s going. Thousands of miles away. Another
country.
Apart from the ship, nothing else
is going on. There are no other cars parked on this grass verge. The road
behind me is deathly quiet. The last time I heard anything driving past must
have been a good twenty minutes or so ago. There’s a street light casting a
pale and sick sodium yellow glow over the car. Both front windows of the car
are fully wound down yet it’s still warm. It’s been like this all day; clammy
and waiting for a thunderstorm to arrive, for the weather to finally break.
I get out of the car and lean
against the bonnet. My shirt is sticking to my back. I pull it away and try to
waft some air around, but it’s no good. We really need some rain. I glance up
to the sky. There are no clouds, just clear skies. At least that should make
for a clear flight. I can’t see any planes in the sky even though I’m only a
mile or so away from the airport. There are no winking red lights, nor that
distant low hum. I’ve not heard any planes land or take off since I’ve been
waiting. It’s a Wednesday night however and it is late. Maybe it’s just a quiet
night at the airport. I think that her flight is the last one landing tonight.
There’s an hour or so before I
need to be at the gate.
I open the car door, lean inside
and rummage around for my cup of coffee. I lean back on the bonnet and take a
sip. I’ve had it in the car for the last hour or so and not touched it. It
seemed too hot to drink coffee and it is probably still is, but it’s something
to do while I’m waiting. The coffee has cooled down a bit, but it’s not
stone-cold and it’s still drinkable.
I should feel nervous I suppose,
after all this time, but I’m strangely relaxed. It’s an odd feeling. I don’t
think that I’ve been this relaxed for a very long time. I shouldn’t be so calm
about everything. After all, in the grand scheme of things all this is a fairly
big step. I’m mulling all this over and realise that step is the wrong word.
That implies things; like starting off on a road to somewhere, on a journey.
That’s not really what I’m expecting or anticipating. This is not a journey.
This is just a thing. An event. A significant event. There’s no doubt about
that. I have no doubt. Possibly.
Probably.
Who knows? I certainly don’t. I
shrug to myself and watch the container ship as it slowly slips down the river
and towards the open sea.
I should be able to see plenty of
stars above me. It’s a cloudless night, but I’m in a big city and even though
there’s only one weak street light near the car, there are many other lights
which make it impossible. The only thing I can see in the sky is the moon and one
single bright star fairly near the horizon. I don’t think it’s a star however;
isn’t that Venus? Or Mars? Something at the back of my mind makes me recall that
those bright stars near the horizon are planets rather than stars. And
something makes me think that if they are, then I can tell them apart because
Mars should have a faintish red tinge to it. I can’t tell. I put on my glasses,
but it makes no difference. It still looks the same. I could do with a pair of
binoculars.
I wonder if she’s been able to
see the stars. Under the same sky. I suppose that we are all under the same
sky. I must remember to ask her. “Did you see the stars? Do you see the stars?”
We must stand side by side and look to the heavens and try to see the stars
together. There is a lot to do and a lot to catch up on. But the stars are
important. We must put away some time to look for the stars.
