New Places, New Problems
Chapter 21
Claire was reading what she could see on the screen, but Stephen did not think it could mean very much to her. It was merely a fragment and fragments rarely had any significance on their own. Besides, if they did, it would be a different one from the significance they had for the story as a whole.
"What is it?" she asked, intrigued.
"It's a piece of text."
"Yes, I can see that! It's not an image. But what kind of text?" As far as she could tell it was about the island and fishermen.
"A piece of text attempting to relate a certain state of mind," Stephen answered. Well, the fragment was, anyway, but that was all she could see, so why should he bother to tell her what the rest was about?
"What for?"
Stephen thought about it. "I'm not sure, actually, since I don't really believe it will be able to reverse economic trends. Maybe to make people aware or maybe just because people like to read. Now, you shouldn't be reading this, because you're seeing it out of context."
"What's the context then?"
"The rest of it."
"Can I see that?" Claire asked.
"No."
"Why not?" She sounded interested rather than offended.
"Because..." Stephen had his reasons, although he did not really know how to put them into words.
"It's not finished yet?"
"Right. This passage especially needs fine-tuning and the final result might not look like it at all." Stephen let go of Claire's wrists and minimalised the document before she could start scrolling.
"Why not?"
"Because I still need to stumble on the right phrasing." He looked at his hands. "You don't ever feel only one thing and yet feelings are often described that way. People might get the wrong impression if I leave something out." If he did not describe exactly what was happening here, people might not see the utter seriousness of it all and they might not realise what the implications were.
"The wrong impression of what?"
Stephen did not appear to have heard her, but slowly continued. "It has to be a readable piece. It serves a purpose. People must be convinced -- made aware -- that some things are going in a certain direction in some places. They won't be made aware of anything if they read statistical figures. Those won't stick. Stories do and that's why I need to write this with care."
"You're really talking to yourself, aren't you?" Claire asked after a moment. She studied him. It was really rather strange that people fell for other people's looks, because she did not think those could be seen apart from a person's personality. Unless they were in a picture, but in real life she thought personality was what decided the matter. Stephen was actually quite good-looking, but you did not really notice that, because he was very, very weird. "I wonder if people need to write to you to make you aware of them. Or perhaps they should whistle to call you back to real life every time you fade away. Where do you go when you leave?"
"I'm sorry, Claire. What did you just say?" Stephen had been busy calling up the document again, having just got another idea. He looked at her guiltily, feeling that he had missed something.
It was only because he looked guilty that she did not make her tone very sharp. "I asked whether you were talking to yourself and where you go when you fade away." What was the use of criticising this anyway, since she had only known him for such a short time and he was sure to behave like this to everyone else as well, who all might have talked to him about it already. And by the looks of it, it had had no effects.
He knew exactly what she meant, since it had been pointed out to him before, but he was interested in what she had to say about it. "Fade away?"
"Yes. As in not hearing what I say."
"I'm not running from you. I'm sorry if I give you the impression of deliberately not listening to you, but if that happens, I'm merely..." Stephen hesitated. "...called away by more important things. I had a discussion with Matthew about it once and we disagreed about whether women were more important than work."
"Is this your work?" Claire waved at the screen.
"No, it's what I do on the side." He did the odd bit of freelance journalism.
"So, what is your opinion on women and work then, if this isn't your work?"
He did not like to be so direct. "Can you guess at Matthew's?"
"No, I don't know him all that well," Claire said evasively.
"If he stages a school check-up just to see you, what do you think?" Stephen said sarcastically.
Claire looked shocked. "What do you mean, staged?" This put the whole episode in a different light and the behaviour of the two men too.
"It wasn't due for another few months yet. So I think we can safely say that Matthew puts women ahead of work."
"And you disagreed with him -- obviously, since you defeated his purpose at the school -- so you put work ahead of women," she stated.
"Yes, I do."
"But you don't have any women here," she pointed out. "So how can you ever test your principle? And aren't I keeping you from your work right now? Or doesn't this count, because this is your work on the side? You'll just invent another twist to the whole principle to talk yourself out of it, Stephen. Before you say I'm not a woman, I think I'll just go downstairs."
"I'd never say you weren't a woman." If only because she looked like one, sounded like one and behaved like one.
"Well, I'm not so sure," Claire said doubtfully. "I mean, either you see me as a guy, or as your little sister."
Stephen was fairly sure he did not see her as a guy, but he saw how he could be mistaken for an elder brother. "Have you got a brother?" He asked.
"No. Yes, but he's younger. He's two," Claire said reluctantly.
"Two?" Stephen asked disbelievingly. "I don't suppose you have the same mother." While she had told him all about her work, she had not said anything about her family.
"Er, no. I'm going downstairs now so you can work. Bye."
Chapter 22
"Do you get along a little better with Stephen now?" asked Abby, who supposed Claire did, because they had been out together for such a long time. "How's your communication problem?"
"Hmm," said Claire, not wanting to say anything bad. She was still a guest with people she barely knew and yet they were asking her some very personal questions as if they had known her for ages. Did they always go straight to the core of the problem here?
"You can tell me. I'm his mother and I've known him all my life. You wouldn't be telling me anything I didn't already know."
"As if parents know their children," Claire mumbled.
Abby glanced at her with a small frown. She wondered whether to ignore that or not. It had not been spoken very loudly, so it had maybe not been meant for her ears, yet it had been spoken, so maybe it was a hint that Claire wanted to vent about her parents. "Some don't, I agree."
Claire's parents certainly did not, she thought gloomily. It depressed her to think about them. "If parents with normal children cannot understand them, then how could somebody understand Stephen?" she said a little tersely to herself.
Abby had heard it nevertheless and raised her eyebrows. The girl definitely had a problem -- with herself, her parents and now with Stephen as well. It was a good thing that she did not take Claire's words very seriously. It would not help matters at all if she took offence. "If you think Stephen is misunderstood, maybe you should go back upstairs to commiserate with him," she suggested kindly. Claire would maybe talk more easily to someone nearer her own age than someone who was a parent.
"I'm sorry. Did I offend you?" Claire realised she had been saying some very strange things without thinking about them. She had been too caught up in her own depression to give any thoughts to what her words might mean to other people. Abby could not have liked what she had said.
"No, but I think you have a problem."
Claire was bit sick of people telling her she had a problem. There had been so many of them back at home. She bit back a comment, reminding herself that she was a guest here. Instead, she looked down at the table. Everybody always told her she had problems, but they all diagnosed the wrong thing. Nobody ever came up with the thing that bothered her most, so maybe her problem was just that she was crazy and that she had a tendency to imagine problems. She really wanted to get away from it all, until she realised that she had already done that and that running away had solved very little. She still had problems, of a slightly different nature and with different people, but still problems. She choked.
Abby could only see those problems that had manifested themselves on the island and she did not know what deeper trouble lay at the root of that. Something had to, however. People did not usually develop this peculiar attitude towards her son just like that. Whatever was bothering Claire was also affecting her behaviour towards other people and it all seemed to have been brought on by mentioning her parents. Something was not right there.
She left Claire alone in the living room and went upstairs to Stephen's room. He was staring at his computer screen absentmindedly. "Stephen?" she said.
"Yes?" he looked at her.
"I'm afraid I've upset her."
"Oh, you suggested that she spend time with me?" he said mockingly. That was sure to upset Claire. He wondered how upset she was.
Abby never expected to get a straight and serious answer from him and continued on. "I wonder if you noticed that mentioning parents has a bad effect on her."
Stephen nodded. "Evil beings, parents." He frowned a little. It must be serious if his mother came all the way up here to inform him of that.
Sometimes she wished that Stephen were a little more responsive and that he would give her a detailed analysis of his ideas and not some vague, cryptic comment that could mean anything. Interpreting one of his comments was always a gamble. "Did she say that?" she asked, although she doubted it. "It would be too easy if you actually quoted someone literally, wouldn't it? Did she say that?"
"No."
"But?" Abby pressed.
"She did mean it. Where do I come in? Am I evil too?"
"I don't think she sees you as particularly evil -- merely confusing."
"I should have been surprised if she hadn't thought me confusing," he said philosophically. "So, why did you come to tell me about it?"
"I think you should talk to her."
"Why me?"
"I don't know. I just feel that it would be better."
"I already talked to her this afternoon," he revealed. "I mean, she talked to me."
"About what?"
"Work and materialistic society, blah, blah, blah. I'm not sure I was a great help if she's still upset." He was not a psychologist. He did not want to listen to everyone's troubles.
"Just try?" Abby asked.
"Alright, but stay away." He did not want to do it if his mother was around.
"Promise."
Stephen went downstairs and saw that his mother had used an understatement when she had said Claire was upset. "Oh God," he muttered, wanting to turn back and run. He cursed his mother for getting him into this. Was he under any sort of obligation to do this? No. He could just turn and walk away. Why had she come at all? He nearly turned, but found he could not. That would be too selfish. Just because he did not like to hear about people's troubles did not mean he had to deprive them of the chance to get rid of them. Maybe he just had to suffer this for a fellow human being, just this once, although he had no idea at all how to handle this. A girl talking bitterly, albeit in a composed manner, was something he could handle, but a girl crying was really making him feel at a complete loss as to what to do.
He stood watching her for a while, but she took no notice of him. This was good, because it meant she did not need him and he could leave. But this was Claire, right? And he liked Claire, he told himself. Why did he like Claire? He did not really know why he did, because he certainly did not like it if she cried and sometimes she was being really unkind to him. He considered telling her to stop, but he realised it would not work. After a few minutes of feeling increasingly uncomfortable, he spoke her name. "Claire?" But she ignored him. "Damn." He was really wanting to leave now, but he was not heartless enough. Whether this was a good thing or not, Stephen did not want to consider.
He sat down next to her, but that had no effect either. It was perhaps a positive thing that she did not move away, but remained seated. Since he was already trying a wide range of approaches anyway, Stephen reflected that he might as well try what he would like best, but what he had avoided to think of so far. He had been cutting off every thought in that direction up till now. Nothing worked, so why not try something that would certainly not work either? It might make her so upset that she would forget about her other troubles. Yes, he would try that. Stephen pulled her onto his lap.
Claire had been hoping he would do something, because she was desperately in need of some attention and comforting, but she too proud to ask for it. In fact, every minute he kept standing there in disapproval had only served to prolong her grief, although she was not aware of that. She had been a little more reassured when he had sat down and she did not protest at all when he pulled her into his lap.
Stephen had been partly right when he had thought that this would make her forget her other concerns, but he had not been right when he had thought Claire would be upset with him for doing so. Ever since he had come in she had been getting upset with him for not doing so, although she did not know why.
Consequently, he was rather surprised when she seemed to calm down. He supposed that to her it did not matter who was doing the job, as long as it was done, but he found he rather liked it when she had become calm, because she had become calm, no doubt.
Claire had sufficiently calmed down to wonder what Stephen was thinking. He was staring into space, as usual. She tried moving a little, to see if this was going to signify to him that she had recovered and if he was going to let her go, but he did not stop drawing absentmindedly on her leg. Sometimes she still hiccupped, but otherwise she was alright now. She had behaved very badly, had she not? Eeew. And she liked it that he was drawing on her leg. Did he even know he was doing that? It was better not to alert him to that fact so he would continue. That was again very bad of her.
Stephen interpreted the fact that she stayed in place as meaning that she had not yet recovered. He was a bit reluctant to speed up the process and so he just kept sitting in the same position as well.
Chapter 23
"Thank you," Claire said in a small voice when she felt she had imposed on him for long enough.
"No problem," he mumbled. "Are you alright again?"
"I think so."
"For the moment," he stated. No doubt she would erupt again at some point. The problem had not been solved. It was still there.
"Yes."
"Come to me when you need to talk."
Claire looked at him. She wanted to, but only if he wanted to listen. Stephen was the person she knew best on this island, but he should not offer this just out of politeness. "I don't want to be a..."
"Where else can you go?"
He was right. There was no one else to go to. "Alright, I will." She had to let him know she really appreciated his help. Saying so would not be enough. Shyly she brushed against his cheek with her lips and then stood up quickly. "Thank you. You're not that bad at all."
Stephen felt pleased and smiled. "Remember you said that if I become a rude jerk again."
Claire coloured in embarrassment. Maybe she had been wrong when she had accused him of being a jerk. He had been nice now. "Do you feel uncomfortable being nice or something? You always try to get out of it as soon as you can," she said in a curious tone.
"Hmmm," Stephen answered. While he recognised the truth in her words, he was not up to analysing himself. "I'm just weird, Claire." That would explain everything without going into detail and he was not really good at talking, certainly not if it was about himself.
"That's a fact," she agreed. He had not denied anything. "Are you my friend now?"
"Sure."
"Friends tell each other everything, don't they?"
"Why do you ask?" Stephen did not what she wanted and he looked at her expectantly. Did she want to know if she could confide in him another time? "You can come to me if you want to talk about a problem." He would listen to her.
"I just wondered why you're weird."
Stephen looked surprised. "You've got enough on your plate as it is. Do you really want to add another question to that?"
"Having another question to ponder might prevent me from thinking about myself and you've just seen what happens if I think too much about my own problems," Claire smiled wryly.
"So I shouldn't answer it, really." He was always quick to come up with arguments in favour of staying silent.
"You're right. But do you want me to think of you and possibly jump to the wrong conclusions?"
Stephen considered that. "Well, considering the sort of conclusions you've already jumped to, you can't jump to anything worse. So go right ahead. It can only become better."
Claire frowned and looked a little puzzled. "I don't see why I should be concluding anything about you anyway. I've only been here for a few days. I can't know you yet, even though I've been seeing you for at least half the time. I think I've overdosed on you. You shouldn't think that I usually analyse other people to bits, but I think I'm going a little crazy. I was already going crazy before I left and you didn't have anything to do with that, but you just met me at the wrong moment." She could not explain it well, but he should not think this was her normal attitude to strangers. She was being awfully familiar with someone she did not know at all.
He smiled a little. "Different things would have happened at a different moment."
"What do you mean?"
"At a different moment you wouldn't have overdosed on me. You would have been in your cottage in the village and you would only have seen me at the school."
"You think so?" Claire supposed he was right. In other circumstances she would not have accepted his offer that she stay in his house. That offer would not even have been made if things had turned out differently, she supposed.
"Yes."
"Would you have preferred that?" Would he regret his offer? Would he rather have her live in the village?
"I don't know. It would have been different, not necessarily better or worse. We can't change it now."
"Yes, you can. You could tell me to move out."
Stephen stood up as well. He walked towards the door. "Claire..." he said in a gentle voice as he passed her. "You can stay as long as you want. It's not up to me."
"But it's your house!" Claire protested, but she felt happy at hearing his words. She did not want to live alone yet. She would have a home and people to take an interest in her for as long as she liked. If they took any interest in her. She looked worried. Would they? "Maybe you and your parents don't like my being here at all."
Stephen paused at the door. That was a really stupid question. "Do I ever do anything for the sake of being polite, Claire?" he asked mockingly.
Claire bit her lip. She wanted to smile. "No, I guess not."
"Then don't worry." He turned to walk away.
"Where are you going?" she called after him a little uncertainly. He probably did not want to stay.
Stephen frowned. His leaving could be interpreted the wrong way, certainly, after what he had just said to her. Only impolite people did not stay with a guest and Claire was just the sort of person who would think he did not want to stay. This was a potentially dangerous situation and his frown deepened. She had been right. She had overdosed on him.
In her current state it was a little dangerous if she perceived that her only friend left her, but she should not come to see him as her only friend. That was wrong. There were more people in this world who were just as worthy of being friends. Just like there was more in life for him than just Claire -- work, for example. He still had to finish that.
Stephen looked at her and wondered if he should say anything and how. Most things would not go down well, especially not the truth, he supposed. Not at this moment. This was hard. He had to be really careful about his tone as well. He should not make her think that he did not care, but it was wrong if she came to be completely dependent on him. "Just a second," he said and then ran upstairs. He had suddenly got a good idea. There was a book she should read. Maybe it could help. In that case he would not have to explain.
She was still standing in the same place when he came back. He pressed the book into her hands, forcing them to hold the book. "I have to work," he said kindly. "It's not you. Go and see people. Or read this." And then he went back upstairs.
Claire felt a little hurt anyway because he abandoned her, although she understood he had to. She did not know why she was so unjust. Really, Stephen was not being insensitive. He had spoken and looked very kindly, but he had left anyway and now she was all alone. Nobody really cared. She was torn between this feeling and the knowledge that it was completely wrong to feel that way. She should not expect Stephen to give up his work just to keep her company. She could not. And what people could she go and see? It was easier said than done, not really knowing anybody except Stephen. And she did not know how people here looked upon unannounced visits.
She studied the book he had given her. Maybe she should read it to take her mind off things. Before she could decide on what to do, Abby came to tell her that Matthew was there. Claire forced a smile. She did not want Matthew to know she was feeling depressed. He had not come for that.
"Hi Claire," he greeted her with a smile. "How are you?"
"Fine," Claire lied. "And you? Did you have a good time last night after we left?"
"It got so boring after you left. Next time you should stay. We missed you and I'm not lying. I came to ask if they minded lending you out for dinner." Matthew was not entirely sure about the situation between Claire and Stephen, but there had not been anything last night. If Stephen had not made any move in the mean time, he was a bloody fool, and if Stephen had, he would be told soon enough, but one could not blame him for trying. In fact, he was lucky only to find Abby here, since Stephen was his friend and there might turn out to be some unconscious code of honour between them.
It was always flattering to hear that people had missed her and it was extremely flattering that he had come all the way here because he wanted her company, but the invitation rather surprised her too. "Er..." Claire looked at Abby hesitantly. She had no idea if Abby was going to be offended if she wanted to go with Matthew. And she did think she wanted to. She needed to go out and Matthew was enthusiastic and cheerful company. He would lift her spirits.
"Of course you can have dinner with Matthew, Claire," Abby assured her with a smile. "You can do whatever you want. Just let me know in time." She could not tell Claire what to do, whatever she thought of this plan. She knew Matthew, but how well did she know Claire, actually? Anyway, she should not interfere. People had to find things out for themselves and who knew if this thing might not work out amazingly well?
"Alright," Claire smiled too. "I'll have dinner with you."
Matthew looked pleased. "Wonderful! Do you have to change or anything before we go?" He hoped not, anxious as he was to get her away from Stephen. It was silly, because he knew Stephen would not order Claire to stay here or anything, but she might change her mind if Stephen appeared. Or worse, invite him as well. And Matthew was not really fond of love triangles.
"I don't look well enough?" Claire felt cheered enough to tease. It was difficult to stay depressed in Matthew's company.
"You look perfect already. You don't have to do it for me," he said appreciatively and he was not even flattering.
"I don't have to change."
"Alright! We'll be going then!"
Claire had never been to Matthew's house yet, so she looked around herself curiously. It was very tidy, but he had said he had a housekeeper, who, it turned out, had also cooked for him. While Matthew put dinner in the microwave, she studied some pictures that hung on the wall. "Who are all these people? Do I know them?"
"Where?"
"Here, in these pictures. Do they all live here?" Claire had not seen so many sophisticated people here and especially the girls did not look like locals. They wore reasonably daring bikinis and somehow she could not picture people on the island in those.
Matthew walked over. "That's me," he pointed at himself. "And Stephen."
"Oh, I hadn't recognised him," Claire said in surprise. There was not much of Stephen to be seen, hidden as he was under a few girls in bikinis. Only his face and it looked younger, although it was hard to tell. The picture right next to it showed Matthew in much the same position, with the same girls. She wondered who they were. "Who are they?" And what are they doing on top of you, she also wanted to ask.
"Audrey, Dinah...Linnet," Matthew said slowly. "That was way back at university. Or wasn't it?" He thought about it. "No, Linnet was later. She was here last week, by the way. You just missed meeting her."
"Here with you?" Claire thought it a bit peculiar that he would say that. She felt an unpleasant tinge.
"No, with Stephen. Always Stephen."
Claire felt another unpleasant tinge. "Oh, his girlfriend," she said in a noncommittal voice.
"Not exactly," Matthew snickered, but he did not explain what his snicker meant.
Claire was only a little reassured by his answer. She did not like the looks of Linnet, or her bikini. And if she was not exactly Stephen's girlfriend, she was not exactly not Stephen's girlfriend either. So what was she? But she did not want to ask Matthew about it, telling herself she did not want to know anything about Stephen's mistresses.
Matthew was called away by the sound of the microwave. "Dinner!"
"Already?" she wondered. It had only been in for a minute.
He tried a bite. "It's still cold!"
Claire laughed. "I knew it was too short! Don't you even know how to use your own microwave?" she teased.
"I usually eat less," he protested. "And that warms up more quickly."
"Ha, right."
Matthew put the food in the microwave again. "We'll try another minute. I'm a bad host," he apologised charmingly. "But I never get such attractive women to dinner."
Claire blushed. "Does that have any effects on your ability to use a microwave?"
"Of course! Don't say you didn't know that! Haven't you ever noticed that before?"
"Noticed what?" Claire was puzzled. That Matthew had problems with it or that other men did? She had not noticed either thing.
"Oh, you innocent lamb!" he laughed.
Matthew talked a lot during dinner and Claire forgot to think about what had been troubling her before. He put an arm around her when she helped to take the dishes to the kitchen. She had never been very fond of people touching her for no reason, but she knew there were people who did this all the time without the gesture having any significance.
"We'll watch a video, okay?"
"Okay." Claire supposed she could stay out for as long as she liked if nobody in Stephen's house ever locked the door. She would be able to get in at any time, so it was all right to stay a bit longer to watch a video.
"I bought this one last week, but I was called away on an emergency just when I had planned to watch it," Matthew explained. "It's a bit of an action film, do you mind?"
"Not at all." Claire really did not mind, since it did not seem to be a very bad action film. It was entertaining enough and Matthew was very attentive about pillows and drinks and snacks.
"Did you like it?" Matthew asked when it was finished.
"Yes, it was alright." She would not have rented it herself, though. A look at her watch told her that it was very late. Before Matthew could suggest something else -- another film perhaps -- she stood up. "I think I should go. It's late already." The later it would become, the more reason he would have to invite her to stay and she did not want that.
"Really?" He sounded disappointed. "You can stay a while longer."
"I'm tired," Claire smiled apologetically. She did not want to know how long that while longer would be. Maybe he meant until the morning. "I should go."
"Oh well..." he said in resignation. "I guess you've only been here for a few days, right? And you need to rest and look around a little. I'll walk you home."
Claire did not really know what he meant and she did not want to ask. She did not mind that he held her hand while they walked, as it was rather cold outside and very dark. And she liked Matthew too, but if it had not been cold and dark, she would pulled her hand out of his grasp. She had liked having dinner with him and she felt in a good mood, though tired. Perhaps he would invite her again some day.
The walk seemed to go quicker in the dark, but perhaps that was because Claire was so tired that she was preoccupied. Suddenly they were at the back door of Stephen's house. "We're here," Matthew announced. He put his hands on Claire's shoulders. "I hope you had a nice time," he said in a whisper.
"Yes, I did. Thanks," Claire answered. She was a bit startled when he leant forwards and kissed her on both cheeks. He lingered and then kissed her full on the lips. It shocked Claire so that she did not protest. She could not even move away. Last night he had done something like this too, but that had been very brief. This was not brief at all. She wished she could pull away. This was not what she liked.
Finally Matthew stepped back. "Good night," he whispered.
Claire could not find her voice to say he should not have done that. Instead she just stared as he walked away down the garden path. Soon he was out of sight and the sound of his footsteps faded away. She stood motionless for another while, until she pulled herself together and went inside, not knowing if she was upset at Matthew or at herself for allowing it to happen. She should have done something, but she had been passive instead.
She went up to her room, but she knew she would not be able to sleep. This was pressing on her mind far too much. How could one gesture turn a whole evening around? Now she would feel the whole night had been ruined. Going to the bathroom, she saw that Stephen still had his light on in his room. She hesitated. Should she go and talk to him? She needed to talk to somebody, but could she talk to Stephen about this?
She remembered his words. Come to me when you need to talk. Where else can you go? Right. There was nowhere else to go. Softly she knocked on his door.
Stephen opened the door fairly quickly, as if he had been expecting her. He took one grave look at her face and then stepped aside immediately so she could enter. "What did he do?"
Claire stepped into the room. In her distress she had not immediately realised that his was Stephen's bedroom -- his study was only a door away -- until she noticed that he was not wearing his habitual jeans and woollen sweater, but a pair of dark blue pyjamas. "I didn't know you had other clothes," she said a little stupidly, needing to say something.
"You didn't come to check out my pyjamas," he stated. Even though she was looking at them curiously.
Claire stood in the middle of the room and breathed in deeply. "No." What had he been doing? There were books and papers all over his bed.
Stephen gathered them together and dropped them on the floor. "Sit down." Since the room was rather small and there was no other place to sit, Claire sat on the bed. Stephen sat down on the floor, leaning his arms onto the other side of the bed. "What happened?"
"How did you know?" Claire recalled that he had asked what Matthew had done.
"I knew where you had gone." He tried to gauge how bad it had been. "My mother told me. Do you want to talk about it?"
"Do you want to listen?"
"Yes." Stephen did not say he had stayed up especially to wait until she returned. If she returned.
Claire did not like sitting so high when he was sitting on the floor. She slid off the bed on the side opposite to him, keeping the width of the bed between them. He would not be like Matthew, but she preferred this anyway and maybe she should not have given Matthew the chance to sit so close to her. "Maybe it was my fault..." her voice trailed off.
"What was?" Stephen asked patiently.
"He kissed me."
He did not betray any reaction, but studied her face carefully. She did not look very happy. "I take it you hadn't wanted him to?"
"No, but maybe it was my fault..."
"I don't understand that. He kissed you. You didn't want it. That leads me to believe you didn't encourage him." Stephen felt some anger towards Matthew for trying, but he could not say that he was surprised by the news. This was how Matthew was. He never needed any encouragement. It would have happened regardless of Claire's attitude, once Matthew had set his mind on it. "How could it be your fault?" If anything, it had been Stephen's fault for not being able to prevent this. However, he could not have forbidden Claire to go and warning her would have given her the wrong idea.
"I should have let him know sooner," she said miserably. "But it just came out of the blue..." She had not been expecting it.
Matthew seemed to have gone for his famous shock effect, Stephen noted. Sometimes it worked, but he also frequently got slapped. Claire had not slapped Matthew. Or had she? "What did you do afterwards?"
"Nothing...he said goodbye and walked away. Now it seems as if I wanted it."
Stephen disagreed. "No, it doesn't. Not to me." The poor girl had probably been too stunned to do anything.
Claire wanted to remarked that it did her very little good to know that, because Matthew would still be thinking it. "I must have been giving him signs."
"People like Matthew don't need signs," Stephen said decidedly. "Or is there something you did that he could have interpreted as such?" He hoped not. His image of Claire would have been wrong in that case.
"I don't know -- that I didn't say no when he took my hand when we walked back?"
Considering that the night before he had carried Claire home, Stephen did not see holding hands as a sign. It was necessary in the dark. "That's not a sign. Had you wanted to say no?"
"I don't know." Claire buried her face in the bed. "I don't know if I like him anymore."
"So you liked him."
"As a friend. But he shouldn't have done that."
"No, he shouldn't have."
She raised her head. "How come you knew he would? Couldn't you have warned me? Or did you? You said something about your friends last night."
He nodded slowly. "Maybe I should have been more explicit about whom I meant, but I didn't want to speak ill of them before they had done anything. He didn't hurt you, did he?" It was better to ask, even if Matthew only ever broke hearts.
"No," Claire shook her head. "I just feel sordid. I don't even know if I would ever have wanted this at all. What will he be thinking now? What will he do next time? Will he kiss me again? Does he think we have a relationship now?"
"After one kiss?" Stephen asked sarcastically, but his sarcasm was not directed at Claire. "Matthew wouldn't even consider himself to be in a relationship if he slept with you on a daily basis. I'm sorry I have to be so honest."
"I thought he was your friend."
"He is my friend," Stephen replied. "But I'm not a woman and he doesn't pull these stunts on me."
Claire swallowed when she considered their friendship. "But if you know about that, he must be telling you about it. Would he tell you about me? And doesn't this mean he doesn't care about me at all?" He could not be caring very much if he did this to everyone.
"He usually tells me," Stephen said cautiously. He was not sure Matthew would tell him in this case. "And I don't know how much he cares about you. He's interested in you, but that's not the same, is it?"
"I don't know what to do," Claire said unhappily. "I never do. It's happened before."
"And how did that end?"
She stared at the wall. "He didn't care about me." Her stomach contracted as she thought about it. "Kissed me a few times and then cheated on me with half the town. Everyone said I should forgive him because he had been drunk and he was such a good catch, but he had lied to me."
"When was that?"
"Four or five years ago."
"And after that?" He figured there ought to have been some happier cases to blot out that unhappy memory. Claire was a pretty girl.
She smiled self-deprecatingly. "Nothing." There was a small pause. "You?" She grabbed the chance to learn about the mysterious Linnet.
Stephen grinned briefly. "I'm not into that anymore," he said.
"Why not?" Claire asked in fascination.
"I have so many fictional wives, lovers and dates that I'm more than satisfied."
Claire's mouth fell open and she stared at him in frank amazement. "Fictional wives?" Only crazy people had fictional friends and they only had friends, not wives.
He nodded, but had to do his best not to laugh. Her face was a scream and she was obviously expecting some nurse to come and lock him up for the night. "Yes."
She touched her head. "You're crazy?"
"Possibly." Some people had indeed told him that he was, but others had disagreed. He did not care what the consensus was on his sanity as long as he lived a pleasant life.
"Are you serious?"
"Yes, I am," he assured her. "I told you I was weird, Claire. Why did you refuse to believe me?"
"Are you joking?"
"No, I'm not. I gave up on real women. Fictional women are the best. They're there when I need them and they stay away when I don't."
Claire was still gaping at him. "But you can't...touch fictional women."
"A touch is a fleeting moment anyway," Stephen said seriously. "Words are lasting. One intense moment that never returns versus an indefinite number of slightly less intense moments that can be repeated whenever you want. It all depends on what you prefer."
Claire dropped her chin on the bed and stared at him in wonder. "This island...is bizarre."
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