Lost and Found - 3

3

Monday 15^th October 2007

The weekend had passed in a blur; Amelia was still very confused about Sol. There were so many things she wanted to know, but equally the thought of standing him up was warming. All day she deliberated.

She worked as a junior hedge fund manager at a small independent company based in the Docklands area of London. Martin her boss had took a risk employing her straight from Oxford, but since then he had been her greatest fan. She’d been promoted on almost a fast track basis and was now the bordering on a full senior post at twenty five. It was potentially a lucrative job, but it took long days to manage the accounts in her charge. That was why she appreciated Li, who was the yin to her yang, for every pin stripe skirt or tailored trouser suit, Li had a gypsy top, a pair of sexy shoes or funky jeans. Amelia had a hugely intense working life, and loved the freshness and relaxation that her best friend brought to her life. But she couldn’t share Sol with her. Not yet. Firstly she was too close, Sol was about to be Li’s new employer for want of a better term, she couldn’t land this on her doorstep. Yet it was the only thing she’d never shared with her since they’d been best friends.

To finish and have time to meet Sol she couldn’t take a full lunch. Martin stuck his head into her office at just after one.

                “Not lunching?”

She shook her head, leaning back from her computer and rubbing her eyes, “I want to try and get out of here on time,” she glanced at the clock, “though even skipping lunch it’s still looking unlikely!”

He grinned, “You’ll be rewarded in accountant heaven...and your annual bonus! Can I get you a sandwich when I’m out?”

She nodded, “anything would be good!”

Amelia liked Martin, he was a fair boss and he’d been good to her, respecting her loyalty and diligence. When he returned with a chicken and bacon baguette she snatched at it gratefully. Not noticing him perch on the edge of her desk, his voice surprised her.

                “We’ve got a new potential client in Milan. A young fashion designer with more money than sense, his agent wants it managed.” Her eyes had lifted to his in question, “I want you to go out there.”

Her heart skipped a beat, leading a case like this, snaring a client was definitely a senior manager role; she just had things passed to her second hand. This opportunity was huge. Martin chuckled and she realised that she was opening and shutting her mouth like a human sized guppy.

                “I’ll email you the details, can you call into my office before you go and we can discuss the final details?”

She was still speechless when he closed the door behind him.

Eating her sandwich she quickly opened her email, flicking through the inbox until she spotted Martin’s address. She would need to fly to Milan this week, mentally she thought of any commitments, nothing she couldn’t manage via her laptop or Blackberry.  Finishing her days work, it was just after four when she headed to Martin’s office.

Judy his elderly secretary smiled, “he’s on a conference to New York, grab a seat and tell me what’s going on!”

Amelia hadn’t had chance to think about Sol all day, other than knowing that the rush, the urgency with her work was due to him. If she left now she’d get across in time, but she couldn’t. This opportunity was her big chance; this was for her, what Friday had been to Li. She knew she couldn’t leave before confirming to Martin that she was ready to take this step.

And Sol? Shaking her head she tried to ignore the tug at her heart, the pain she felt at the thought of not seeing him again, because despite her bravado, her own anger and resentment, she knew that she had to see him again.

For twenty minutes she made distracted small talk with Judy, but her mind was elsewhere. Finally the door opened and Martin emerged beaming. He was a good looking man in his late forties who’d made a small fortune in New York in the post recession boom in the late eighties/early nineties. He’d created this small business to allow him to have more time with his wife and four children, though she saw no evidence of that in reality. He was always there before her, and often after her.

                “Amelia, come in!” he gestured to a chair and as she sat he animatedly started to praise her and talk about how he felt she was ready for the next step. They discussed her travelling to Italy, and she almost snapped his hand off in her keenness.

It was after five o’clock when he shook her hand and she could leave the office.

Sol would be waiting! She had intended to take the bus across town, but that would take at least forty minutes. Even if she did that, she knew that Sol probably wouldn’t wait that long. A taxi was expensive, a luxury, but she could afford it, and if this ‘Italian job’ worked out, then it’d be a mere drop in the ocean. The only problem was finding one!

As she paced the streets trying to find a taxi she rued not taking a contact number from him. Eventually as the rain started to pour, a large black cab came around the corner, diving into the road she was relieved to see it slow, then climbed into the rear. Reeling off the address she slumped back into the seat and tried to tidy her damp hair. It was tied up for work, but rain always brought out the curl that hours of straightening dampened down.

It took twenty minutes to get to the street she’d jotted down in a rush after the party, and after paying the driver, dodging the puddles that cars were spraying onto some unfortunate pedestrians, she found the cafe. It was dark, the thick rain clouds impeding the little light left on a gloomy winter’s evening.

Amelia had never seen this place before, and she burst in through the door to see a dozen gingham covered table, each occupied by at least two people, all eyes were on her after such an ungainly entrance. Glancing at the wall clock she saw it was a quarter to six, no one would wait forty-five minutes, would they?

                “Can I get you anything?” a heavily Italian accented woman asked approaching.

Amelia shrugged, “I’m late...” She could still do with a drink, something, anything. Taking in the menu over the shoulder of the waitress she smiled, “a bottle of Peroni please, and some bruschetta?”

The waitress nodded and pointed to an empty table in the corner, Amelia gratefully slumped into a chair. Sliding out of her wet coat she placed her elbows on the table and laid her head in her hands. All weekend she’d deliberated over what to do, whether to come and meet him, whether to see what Sol had to say. But now that opportunity had been snatched away.

The ice cold Peroni arrived along with crispy bread topped with fresh tomato and basil. Thanking the woman, she sipped the beer, wondering what to do. She hadn’t really thought past getting here. Whilst she’d thought about standing him up, she’d never thought that this would be the scenario that faced her.

Despite her inner turmoil, the ice cold beer and the accompanying snack were delicious, she’d almost cleared the plate when a dark figure materialised in front of her. For a second Amelia was unable to move, her eyes focused on her hands. She knew it was Sol, though had no idea why he’d come back an hour after he was meant to be here. Her heart was beyond pounding and she felt nauseous, but shaking herself literally, she managed to lift her eyes.

He was wearing a long black coat over his suit and droplets of rain sat on the thick wool. His short dark hair was wet too.

                “I thought you weren’t coming.” He sighed sliding into a seat opposite her, “not that I blame you! I just glanced in on the way home, saw you here...”

Shrugging awkwardly, she tried to smile, “I had a big thing crop up in work, I couldn’t get away any earlier.”

He nodded, “so where do you work?”

Waiting until the waitress had taken his order she looked at him, “isn’t that all a bit small talk for today?”

Sol shrugged, he had that confidence about him that she’d found so appealing as a naive child, now it irked her. He’d railroaded her life, then ran away when the shit had hit the fan. He owed her at least an explanation, and more than that, he owed her an apology for the appalling way he’d treated her a few days earlier.

Her crush had been unrequited for years, but as the time moved on, Amelia realised that Sol saw her as a sister, nothing more, whereas he occupied her every thought, her every dream. Saying that, he helped her with homework, drove her to the shop, and to discos when she was an annoying teen, he even ganged up on her annoying cousin Alex when he was unbearable on his lengthy trips. Each time he’d defended her, or smiled at her in a conspiratorial way over a particularly stuffy dinner party she loved him a little bit more. Then a week before Christmas when she was fourteen, his father John was killed in a car accident. A drunk driver swerved across the road and hit him head on at high speed, the death had been instant.

Amelia had been sat at home when the police came. She’d rushed out with her father and had almost crumpled when the officers had explained the predicament. Her father was taken to formally identify John, leaving Amelia home alone. Sol was at a party, a birthday of someone he was in school with, Alex who’d arrived the previous day had demanded to be dragged along in front of his doting uncle, and frankly the very annoyed Sol had no choice.

Amelia was still watching out of the window when a police car pulled up. She was at the front door when a devastated Sol started the long walk across the driveway. Opening the door she stood there and as soon as she saw his tear ravaged face, she opened her arms. For a second she thought he’d brush her off, but instead he stifled a sob and pulled her close, letting her wrap her arms caringly around him. She’d always imagined she’d savour this moment, enjoy every second, she never imagined it’d be under such terrible circumstances.

They’d stood for an age, before making their way into the kitchen. Amelia made them hot chocolate, then sat next to him, his arm holding her close, her head on his shoulder. They talked about him growing up, his mother, stories of his father, everything bar the fact that a month before his eighteenth birthday, he was orphaned.

Both were still in the kitchen when they heard the front door, her father came into the room, and she’d never seen him so stressed, so haggard. She guessed they needed to talk, and so she excused herself, as she stood, he took her hand and squeezed it.

                “Thanks Meals, you’ve been a rock tonight.”

She smiled, but at that moment her life really changed, because as he dealt with his grief, reassessed his life, she was his confidante, his right hand man, and all too soon, it was more.

                “I didn’t steal your jewellery.” That dark deep voice seemed to constantly drag her back to the present, or was it that she kept daydreaming around him? The revelation was a little unexpected and she turned to look at him.

                “The whole box disappeared the day my father found us. They found most of it in your room.”

He laughed, “Circumstantial! And you hung me on that basis like the rest of them Meals, and I never took you for that, that hurt more than anything.”

Amelia saw red, “It was my sixteenth birthday, it was my first time...and you disappeared, my jewellery too. So I lost you, the link to my mother, my home, my family...all in one night, so please let’s not get into a ‘who had it worst’ competition. Loving you cost me everything Sol, and I’m not taking your blame here!”

                “I was thrown out! You know that. Your father promised to put me up when my father died, but once he reneged on that, I had to leave.”

Amelia fought the urge to shout, to scratch at his face, the words why didn’t you take me too? But she couldn’t, she didn’t want him to know that his abandoning her was worse than everything else.

When she didn’t answer he reached for her hand, “I didn’t take the jewellery I promise. I wouldn’t have done that to you, to your father, he’d been so good to me!”

She snatched her hand away, “so it was just a coincidence?”

                “I’ve always had my suspicions, I mean how did your father know to come home at that moment, to come and look for you? I mean had he ever burst in on you like that before, when you were in your bedroom, without even knocking? He knew we were together, and that speaks volumes. And then all that he said to me...about you...”  He stood, “my integrity is everything, and until you believe that about me I’ll say no more.”

And with that he was gone.