What have they done to the old home place, why did they tear it down?
And why did I leave the plough in the field and look for a job in the town
J.D. Crowe, 'Old Home Place'
My mate the Canadian placed her in the 'girl next door' genre. I suppose he was referring to how she drew attention in response to an easy warmth she projected rather than an eye catching strikingness. True. The thing that caught my imagination was the wake of a just passed knowing grin, that told me of an analytical wit at work. This is how i chose to see her anyways. It could have just been an uneasy smile. The sort one displays when slightly uncomfortable and nervous. But as de rigour, I ran with the more romantically appealing snap judgement.
There were a couple of hindrances to my confirming or otherwise of my first impression. The Canadian and I were in the middle of our own activity and conversation, whilst she dined on an early dinner with her two companions - one male and one female. It was hard to tell if any of them were in a commited agreement to any or each of the others.
They finished their mains and the Canadian finished answering my questions and, as he wandered off, the, supposedly 'next door', girl rose to enjoy a cigarette outside. This is the exact opportunity I needed , as she was the only smoker in her group and stepped out onto the Chelsea sidewalk alone.
Not quite sure of her country of origin. She spoke the queen's tongue with a slight french clip to her sentences, yet portrayed a touch of the Italian style for ending certain words with redundant and non present vowels. These quirks were delivered ever so subtly and with a rolling allure towards arousement. Her skin was pale without being porcelain, her hairline high without forcing a too large forehead and her faded brown eyes so clear as to suggest no real need for the thick rimmed, oval specs that shielded them. Usually a cigarette in the hand would kill the whole draw for me but she took care of the process with the same grace I had once witnessed shown by an legendary, aging godess of the French New Wave.
I transcribe all of this to you by memory some days after my brief chat with the young lady. I'm confident all my details are accurate. This would suggest the impact she left.
We spoke of habits; both bad and good. She told of a time before she'd reached the age of university entrance, when she had competed on the professional equestrian circuit. I learnt of parents "now" residing in Monaco, alluding to a foundation first built elsewhere. And I heard that she liked to hike various South London Parks and Commons on her own, complete with ipod.
i was called away for a moment, interrupting our exchange and she stubbed out the cigarette and returned to her triumvirate.
It was a fleeting conversation at best. Enough to cement a solid first impression, too little for a firm feel of the internal spirit. But there was a connection. Of sorts. Experience has taught that I habitualy fall into the trap of ascribing too much weight to a first meeting. Faults, flags and 'wrong way. Go back' signs so often appear with time. However, somehow, I always forget this.
I once read that love and knowledge of the disease it is never protected anyone from the illness. Maybe this is why, despite all the knowledge of times I felt like this before, I'm still so wistfully disappointed that I let her leave shortly after our 'moment', without the crude number-drop. She passed me on the way out and the aggressive me - the ever present version of me- would have easily executed. But I didn't. I could not.
I can't really tell you why. There was still a lingering ambiguity as to her relationship to the male of the group, but that's not the real reason. I just felt compelled to not dredge up aggression. It may have been her 'way' that demanded and a more sincere and true gentleness. As if I sensed coming on too strong, too Game, would push this child away.
Is possible.
Is also possible that I've changed. Its not an unconscious changing of an internal season. Its actually quite calculated. I've decided to mix things up. Not because I have to. Not because somethings gone wrong with my most recent modes operai. Just because, I don't know.....
Just for something different to do.
But damn - I let her go!
