Closing In

CLOSING IN

“Look at those trees”, she said.

She had already been gazing at them for some while, How their long thin leafy tops reacted to the autumn wind. How the centre held but the outer layers with nowhere to blow except outwards all went their separate ways before returning to the others. This Rosy carefully explained to Derek as they sat on the park bench.

“You know I think on the return they hug each other tighter than ever”

Derek was not over-imaginative as far as tree behaviour was concerned but he felt Rosy was saying something about their situation so he felt the need to respond.

“Just as we do”

“And not just the two of us but all the others too”.

Derek nodded. He was pleased with what Rosy had done. She had not been with them very long but her enthusiasm could not be doubted.

Rosy laid her head upon his shoulder. She had never done that before. He felt real affection in her gesture. The others had noticed how he had changed. Derek was known for commitment to the job in hand, but only after he had taken a lot of time getting the theory for each project right in his head. Now for the first time, as far as anybody now in his circle knew, Derek seemed to want to commit in a rather different direction. People had moved away from the group after finding love elsewhere; others had become couples but generally at a slight cost to their energy for the group ethos.

But everyone seemed pleased for Derek. Rosy was such a nice girl, which made her sound a bit wet. Wet she was not; Rosy was throwing herself into the group, and making a real point of getting to know everybody. There was some half-hidden steel in the girl that Derek admired. But it also caused him concern. Derek was now nearly forty yet his experience with women was extremely limited, disastrously so he was starting to realise.

So one evening when Rosy was visiting, and she was always completely at ease with him in private as well as public, he attempted to introduce something more physical in the relationship which after all was now some months old. Her reaction surprised him. He had steeled himself to expect sneering and put-downs at his clumsy approaches but he felt she responded to them quite positively. Nevertheless she did back away. His confidence was shell thin so he responded in kind. Then she had quickly apologised and told him she had something to explain. She had been brought up as a Catholic and could permit no intimacy until marriage. She was very sorry she said to him over and again. If he wanted to end things she would understand.

No he did not. Certainly not. And anyway the thought of intimacy with an experienced girl terrified him. So, without explaining all that, he assured Rosy that he understood totally how she felt and the awkwardness had for the moment passed away.

All this went through his mind as they sat in the park, he now looking at the trees and she content just to sit there quietly with him.

“We had better get going”, he said after a while, “Maggie and Martin will be expecting us”

They were having tea with members of the group before a semi-formal meeting about future strategy. Rosy had joined at a difficult time in the group’s activities but already she was establishing herself as a mainstay with her clear, logical thinking and her refusal to back down from the group’s core beliefs.

But Maggie and Martin were not at home which was to say the least surprising since in a couple of hours they would be holding the meeting at their flat, and had suggested this meeting of the four of them first. Derek had suspected they wanted to vet Rosy further, not for her fervour to the cause, more for her feelings for Derek. They knew he could be easily hurt in the matter of private feelings, and had indicated he should take care not to make assumptions about Rosy’s feelings for him. In truth they could not quite understand how such a vivacious girl as Rosy had become so seemingly smitten for a shy and awkward character like Derek.

But that was no longer at the front of Derek’s mind. Concern had taken over. He was on his phone. Neither Martin nor Maggie answered. What on earth was happening? Rosy too he noticed looked seriously worried. She had really got to care about her new comrades.

“Derek”, she said, “There’s two hours till the meeting. I need to do something. I’ll meet you back here in ninety minutes. OK?”

“OK”, said Derek. He felt flustered. He needed Rosy’s support and presence. But he found it difficult to challenge her though he felt in some way that she was abandoning him.

************************

“I’m glad you’re not like Rosy”, said Morgan with a post-coital grin on his face.

“Becca the slut, eh”, the girl replied.

“That was once your joke”.

“But things have changed haven’t they”.

“Not for you to worry about”.

Morgan got up naked from the bed. Becca felt a revulsion for his slobby frame she had never felt before.

“We shouldn’t have done that”, she said.

“Why ever not?”

“The timing was all wrong”, she shouted after him as he disappeared into the next room.

She could hear him opening a can. He returned with some scummy lager. He was still naked.

“I could tell you needed it. I guess you’ve had a rough day”

“You can say that again”.

“How’s Rosy?”

Becca lent her arm out of the bed and took a cigarette.

“How do you think?”

She took hold of the Standard she had come home with. She had her thumb over a small column. As Morgan bent to read it she quickly withdrew the thumb.

“More timing issues eh”, she said.

“Ah, not my doing”

“Come on. Talk, Morgan. No more sex till you talk”.

Her American floosie accent suggested “Becca” was still in control. His sarcastic reply said as much

“I don’t know what I feel”, she retorted “How can I? I don’t know who I am”.

“Yes you do”

“Morgan, have you ever done this yourself?”

“Well.. there was one time…

“Yes or no”

“No.”

“I wasn’t informed.” She was pointing at the Standard.

“There was no time. The Home Office needed to contain things. They were really pleased with all the info they got. The pen portraits you drew of these losers”

“Are there going to be more?” Asked somewhere from deep in her chest as she struggled with her anger, itself a by-product of other deeper emotions.

“Maybe. But your job’s done.”

“No. I need to see Derek.”

“You can’t; you know that. These people are dangerous.”

“No they’re not. This world’s gone crazy if it thinks that”.

She drew on her cigarette.

“All they want is to prevent a whole nation of people dying of starvation”.

“They started it.”

“Bollocks”.

“Are you going all Marxist-Lefty on us, Miss Becca Rosy”

“Well I don’t normally have to break off two relationships in one day”

“We’ll ride this. You’re just upset.”

“Are you on duty tonight?”

Morgan nodded.

“Go on back to your place. I need space.”

“OK. But what are you going to do?”

“Don’t worry about me. Like you just implied, I know the score.”

“We’ll get you counselling if you want.”

“Just fuck off will you”.

She shook her head but allowed herself a small smile in Morgan’s direction. It got him out of her hair. And maybe only the obvious bridge would need to be burned.

“One thing. Derek’s safe?”

“The agreement holds as at time of recording.

“OK”.

***************************

Rosy was only a few minutes late back outside Martin’s flat.

“They’re still not here”, Derek said.

“They won’t be.”

She showed him the Standard.

“Oh God”

“Pull out. It’s all over. Get on with your life. This isn’t worth it any more.”

“No!. Surely… And you, what about you?”

“I’ve got a meeting in Gaza tomorrow”

“You have what!”

“I was sent over to check your people out.”

She said it more quietly and it had its effect.

“You’re… Oh Rosy I’m so proud to have known you.”

She gave him a little kiss on the forehead.

“This outfit is to be closed down, and its members dispersed. That’s an order. If you carry on proclaiming you will be in great danger. Stop now and I can guarantee your personal safety. So promise me.”

“But”

“Promise me. Because I care about you and we won’t be able to see each other any more.”

“I promise”. There were tears in his eyes.

She knew the power of her personality, honed over years of malarkey such as this, had him in her grasp. The lies kept coming smooth as silk (cliché as comforter). She disgusted herself. Forgive me she said internally, perhaps to the god that comes to the fore when things are at their nastiest, perhaps to her long-lost mother who had been at least some sort of Catholic.

But she had done all she could. And she would tell herself that for as long as she had to, until hopefully the day would come when she actually believe