Without You I Have Nothing Page 4

  Bob had called Jennifer ‘the Ice Maiden’. She was certainly cool. Not once during the meal was she more than frostily polite, her laughter no more than cool ripples.

  Even more noise but not so strident met them at the Trotting Track.

  Jennifer had seen these races at what she knew as Gymkhanas when she was growing up, but, back then, the betting had been absent. Here the fervor of gambling filled the air and ran through the crowd, building the excitement.

  Karen clung to Bob’s arm while beseechingly raising innocent eyes to Ted to ask his advice on betting. Satisfied with intermittently diverting his attention from Ruth, she would then wheedle more funds from Bob to clinch her bets.

  Bob was obviously overspending. More evident was that he expected to recoup any losses at the end of the evening in bed with Karen.

  Ruth was winning. Ted had stuffed her handbag with notes and was pressing more money on her to double her bets.

  Peter hoped the excitement of horses trotting under the arc lights would interest Jennifer but still she was unimpressed. Together they leant over a rail watching the gigs flash past.

  “I love the sound of the swishing tires and the thud, thud, thud of the hooves. There’s almost a symphonic poem in the strange musical sound. No wonder the lure of the track is strong for so many people. Even the sounds add to the excitement.” Desperately he tried to break though Jennifer’s reserve.

  With her green eyes even darker than before, she turned to him.

  “You haven’t made a single bet. Don’t let me spoil your fun.”

  “Spoil my fun?” Peter almost choked. “I don’t know one end of a trotter from the other. I don’t gamble these days - I gambled enough in my early life,” and his eyes clouded over until he shook his head.

  The inscrutable mask of the east slid down across his face before he continued. The pain of his early life had taught him to conceal his thoughts and feelings. “This really isn’t my idea of a night out. Like you, I followed the arrangements. Bob and Ted believe I need...” He did not attempt to continue.

  Jennifer stifled a giggle. “I thought you would be a gambler like the others.” Even in the gloom away from the direct light of the over-head, arc lights Peter could sense her confusion as she threw him the next question, quickly turning to look back at the track.

  “What’s your idea of a good night?” As he answered, Jennifer turned to face him again unable to believe his words.

  “I love opera, ballet and symphony concerts. I have two permanent seats at performances but never have I had any one in that second seat on my right. I’ve always been alone. However, I’d prefer that you didn’t tell the others. They think I’m strange enough as it is.”

  Peter found himself opening his heart to this delicate young woman whose presence so unsettled him. “They think nothing of carousing into the early hours but I can’t drink - I get so sick. I’d much prefer a game of chess.”

  ‘Hmmm, he says he likes chess, ballet, opera and symphony concerts.’ Her eyes glittered with merriment as she studied the track before wheeling back to Peter. The lilt of her laughter softened her words.

  “You a chess player - that’s hard to imagine,” she said aloud. Jennifer, however, didn’t voice her other secret thoughts. ‘I have always wanted to play chess but have no one to teach me.’ Right now, she found the wicked twinkle in Peter’s eyes intriguing. He just had to be too good to be true. There had to be a flaw.

  Peter had indeed told the truth about the things that interested him most, but the evening had been so remarkable that Jennifer couldn’t bring herself to believe him. How could one man do so many things with such competence? She couldn’t possibly know his early years were not involved with family or with stable relationships so he had thrown himself into academia and sports.

  The arrival of the others, a noisy, excited babbling group stopped any further conversation.

  “Come on, you two. Peter, you're driving us to the Casino.” Ted took over the leadership this time, trying to inspire Ruth who was clinging tightly to his arm.

  At the Casino as the others stood around the roulette table placing their bets and trying their luck, Peter stood back with Jennifer ruefully noting that both Ted and Bob were having much more success with their partners than he was with his.

  The game was barely worth a glance and Peter was terrified Jennifer would want to bet. He stood close to her – believing a girl like her needed someone to take care of her. She did not seem to know anything much about a place like this.

  Finally, she moved to a card game where Peter became engrossed in the movement of the expert card dealer’s hands as she fanned cards to the players gathered around the green baize covered table. Absorbed by her elegant fingers, fluttering lightly over the cards as they flew to the players with unerring accuracy, Peter noticed nothing else.

  “Haven’t you ever seen a low neckline before?” Jennifer’s words, laden with irony, cut across Peter’s thoughts.

  “Good Lord.” Peter had not realized that he had been staring, but Jennifer’s comment certainly made him think. ‘Low necklines – that’s only for the suckers.’ He had noticed that the more the dealer revealed as she leant forward, the more the attention of the players wavered and the more they lost.

  “Oops! Sorry – I was watching her hands. I’ve never seen anything like them.” Peter laughed. “Not that I can deal. I usually manage to drop half the cards on the floor.”

  Jennifer was even more worried. ‘Is this man a fast thinker, some kind of nut or a person of values? There is still the trip home to get through. That will be the test. Will he suddenly become a lecher? If he does, what will I do? He’s so strong. His body is attractive and he moves with a casual feline litheness that is entirely deceptive.

  ‘Is it safe to have him drive me home?’ she wondered. She didn’t have long to wait for an answer to her last question.

  A scantily clad waitress served a drink to one of the players - an expensively suited, lecherous old fool who had been drooling over the dealer’s neckline. As the waitress leant forward to place the drink, one of his hands snaked across her shoulders to force her lower while the other hand thrust money deep into her blouse where his fingers lingered much too long.

  “Don’t!” hissed Jennifer taking one look at Peter’s face before dragging him out of the casino into the fresh night air.

  “What was all that about?” Peter looked perplexed.

  “I thought you were about to hit that old goat. The bouncers thought so too.” Her comment surprised Peter. “I could feel your anger, and the flash in your eyes frightened me.”

  “Thanks for saving me.” Laughing, Peter continued, “It’s just that I hate men who believe a woman is theirs because they have money or power. That waitress was merely doing her job but that old goat - as you called him - believed he had the right to maul her. You were right to drag me away from the situation. I wouldn’t relish tangling with those gorillas. They would have half murdered me.”

  “You're a nut,” laughed Jennifer.

  “Yes, but, with you, I am a harmless one,” Peter replied, joining in the gaiety. His laugh was a glorious, joyful surge of merriment that burst over them before floating upwards while his blue eyes sparkled and the creases around his mouth added exclamation marks to his wide grin. He sobered and, staring into Jennifer’s eyes, as if to reinforce the idea he repeated the words. “A harmless one.”

  Peter paused for a moment before he gently took Jennifer’s hand and led her to the vehicle. She relaxed but had to ask one question. “How do you explain being fluent in Chinese?”

  He ignored her question until minutes later when they parked outside her unit.

  “I'm not fluent in Chinese. There is no such language,” he corrected her.

  Jennifer winced. All night she had not seemed to ask the right question where Peter was concerned.

  “I’m fluent in Cantonese. I can swear like a trooper in Hokkien and can speak Mandarin. I can read a
nd write Chinese, which is Mandarin script. As well, I’m also fluent in Tamil, Thai, Lao, Vietnamese, Malay and Indonesian.” Jennifer watched him, wide-eyed. Peter was very serious as he bathed in her green-eyed gaze.

  “Don’t ask how or why – not even my closest friends know. When we get to know each another better I shall tell you.”

  Peter was an expert – his psychology degrees and his years of study had guaranteed he knew how words could affect a listener. Jennifer was one listener he wanted to influence and cunningly, he had mentioned the idea of getting to know each other. He was desperate to gain this woman’s interest and for the first time in his life, he was using every trick in the book to establish a friendship.

  He had tried to make light of it, but clearly, touching on this topic of his early life had struck a nerve deep within. Staring through the windscreen, he took a series of deep breaths then sighed before opening his door to walk slowly around to the passenger’s side to help Jennifer out.

  Alarmed by his sudden tension Jennifer’s mind returned with a sharp pain back into her own reality, her own fears. She realized she had forgotten what might be expected of her at the end of such a generously hosted evening. Ashen faced, she whispered a hurried apology. “I'm not going to invite you in for coffee. I'm sorry your night out with me has been wasted, but I don’t do those things.”

  Peter took her arm and held her a moment. “I’ll see you to your door so you are safe,” he insisted. “That’s the least I can do. Stop troubling yourself needlessly. You have no worries and no problems when you're with me.”

  Jennifer knew he felt her body stiffen. She felt awkward. Peter had been good company with a depth to him that she was unable to precisely gauge and she believed she should have said something else - but what? She wanted him to know the truth about her. Back in the car, perhaps her words had been too bold.

  She remained silent her thoughts remaining unspoken. ‘Let’s face it – I want you to kiss me, but I don’t want things to happen too fast. I want to see you again and...’

  Asking for her key, he interrupted her thoughts.

  “I'm sorry your evening was spoilt but…,” Jennifer tried to explain.

  His roar of joy interrupted her. Chuckling loudly he unlocked her door.

  “Spoilt my night? You’ve spoilt my night? Don’t do those things - what things are we talking about here, Jennifer? My night wasted, when all the time I was with you?” He gave the door a nudge and it swung open.

  Incredulous, Peter stared at her before continuing.

  “Surely you're joking. The night itself was a disaster - not of our making - but a disaster all the same. In spite of that, I enjoyed your company. You're a beautiful, intelligent young woman and I'm grateful to have been your escort for the night. As for the coffee - well I’d much prefer a good drinking tea.”

  He chuckled as Jennifer’s eyes widened in surprise. “But here I am – I’ve escorted you to your door as a gentleman should. If I hadn’t done that my mother would have given me a terrible smacking!” Laughing loudly he indicated the entrance to her apartment then turned to her.

  At that moment, he knew he had to do it – to do something that conveyed the genuineness of his liking for this beautiful, frozen girl with the fragile soul. There, in front of her open door, he took her head in gentle hands, reveling in the flow of her hair through his fingers. Bending forward, tenderly he tilted her face up towards his own. For moments, he paused to stare silently into her eyes, before sighing.

  He kissed her hair and left.

  Jennifer closed the door and leant against it, catching her breath. Her mind was crowded with thoughts. ‘What did he say? I have no worries, no problems? Of course, I have these. Too many of them – and they won’t ever go away.

  ‘Nevertheless, do I have a chance of ever seeing Peter again, even for just for a moment? What about his love for the ballet, opera, symphony concerts, chess? Those kisses on my hair – and the effortless ease with which he demolished those three at the bar? Finally, what about his not being interested in my body... no groping no touching… Yes, I have to admit to the question... is he gay? If only I had the experience on which I could make a judgment.’ She reached for the phone.

  “God Jennifer, some people work for a living, you know. Do you know the time? Whatever’s the matter? Are you okay?” The gruff sleepy male voice reassured her.

  “Andrew I'm so worried. I met a man tonight and he...”

  “Oh hell, I’ll pack my cricket bat and be up there as soon as - say Monday at the latest.” Andrew sounded worried and furious.

  Laughing Jennifer interrupted, “No Andrew, that’s not necessary.”

  Then losing her laugh she sobered to add, “I'm so worried that I rang you for help. Tonight I...”

  “I'm not your priest, Jennifer,” was Andrew’s polite interjection. “I think you're supplying me with too much information. Perhaps your doctor could put you on the pill!”

  “Andrew, you're disgusting. How could you? Behave!” Jennifer began to doubt the wisdom of seeking his help.

  Patiently she restarted. “Tonight made me worry that I will never be able to love, to be free and not be suspicious of men. I'm terrified my mind can never get over that horrendous night when you rescued me. I feel unable to let go. I’ll never be able to give myself to the man I love,” and she began crying.

  “Come on, use my shoulder. You have in the past so use me now. What has happened?” Suddenly Andrew’s voice reflected his love and concern for his twin.

  “Tonight I met a man, Peter, who was thoughtful and charming and when I repulsed his attempt at seeing me home safely he just kissed my hair and left. I wanted him to kiss me and I chased him away. Whatever will I do because I just froze?”

  “Look Sis, stop worrying. If this Peter is to be your man, he will thaw you. He kissed your hair you say. Are you sure he is a man?”

  The answer was a sob.

  “So he didn’t do anything other than kiss your hair goodnight. Well that could mean one of two things. Either, he wants you and does not want to risk any relationship by moving too quickly or he just wants a good-looking female on his arm to make him feel like a male. If you need me to fly up to help, give me a week to make arrangements.

  “You sleep well Sis, I am beaten – been a long day branding all the new calves.

  “Sleep well, you’ll be okay and forget that night, it was a long time ago – easy for me to say – and enjoy your new friend. He sounds fun.”

  The phone went dead in Jennifer’s hand.

  She lay motionless, staring at the ceiling. Unable to sleep, her thoughts retraced her early life. ‘If only I had not accepted that lift home from the school dance. They said they had been sent by Andrew.’ Then as her mind slid back to that night and the pain, the terror and the brute strength of the men took over her consciousness. In her mind she screamed as she once more felt the fists pounding her face and saw the flash of the knife. Cuddling her pillow she curled into a ball and shook as she wept.

  ‘Yes I went to university but my brother or one of his two friends was always by my side. They made certain no man got too close as I was so fragile after my night of horror. Dad even paid three girls who attended my lectures to protect me from men. The only men I have known are the friends of Andrew, all farm kids, like Andrew and me, and all ready to jump to my defense.

  ‘Yes I am a highly paid lawyer but other than that one terrifying night I have had no experience of life. Living on a farm then attending university I may as well have been a nun!

  'Peter, I believe I am interested in you so please look after me. I do not want to fall into that black hole of depression I suffered at the end of my final school year when…

  'Just don't hurt me or play with my emotions as I really don't think I would be able to cope.'

  Eventually she closed her eyes!

  Chapter 2 The Following Weeks

  Early the following morning Peter eagerly knocked at Jennifer’s door. He
knew that 7 o'clock was far too early and he realized his actions were not only unusual but also inconsiderate. Yet he was determined to see this beautiful young woman again. He couldn’t help himself! His need to see her overruled his common sense.

  After a long pause, while Jennifer inspected him through the peephole, the door was wrenched open.

  “What do you think you're doing?” Wearing a pale green dressing gown, with her hair tousled and her face showing that she had awakened from a deep sleep, Jennifer glared angrily at him, her hands on her hips. “Are you mad? Don’t you know what time it is?”

  Even the yellow roses thrust into her hand did nothing to calm the fire in those eyes. This Ice Maiden was furious.

  Stuttering and stammering, retreating before her outrage Peter regretted the crazy idea that had brought him there.

  “Well, speak up.”

  Peter could only stammer and mumble.

  “Come in. It’s far too cool to stand out here talking.” As she pulled the door fully open, her dressing gown swung back to give a tantalizing glimpse of nightwear and bare legs. Jennifer must have noticed Peter’s reaction as she quickly added, “and don’t get any funny ideas. I want to know what you think you’re doing. I demand an explanation and then you're on your way, mister.”

  The shaggy bear, that was Peter, lumbered after her muttering his gruff apologies. “I'm sorry. I didn’t realize it was so early. I only came to help you with your shopping.”

  What had been a sweet idea had suddenly turned very sour. “I really am sorry! I...”

  “Oh, no you're not.” The chill in her voice showed she was not interested in his excuses.

  Denying him any further glimpse of her nightwear and legs by firmly holding her dressing gown in place she flounced onto the settee. “You planned all this, believing I’d be swept off my feet.” Pulling her pink envelope from her pocket, she spread the contents on the coffee table. “You even thought you could buy me,” and her lips curled back in distaste.