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“Happy Birthday, Lucas.” Ros threw a card in front of him as she stalked past his desk.
“Thanks … do you …” he trailed off as she walked into Harry’s office and shut the door behind her.
She was the third person that morning to throw a card in his direction and offer a half-hearted greeting. It was the third time he’d attempted to suggest drinks after work but not had the opportunity to get the whole question out before something infinitely more important claimed their attention. Only Malcolm had been remotely kind, placing a box of donuts on his desk and giving him a big grin before squeezing his shoulder and offering a few words of comfort.
“Bound to be an odd day Lucas but mum always tells me that there’s not much that can’t be fixed with a cup of tea and a donut.” He placed a hot cup of tea on the desk next to the donuts.
Lucas brushed his fingers over the box contemplating eating his second one of the morning or saving them for later. For all his kind words and understanding even Malcolm was unable to meet for drinks after work. “It’s Mum’s bridge night. She’ll never forgive me if I don’t take her. Sorry Lucas, what about tomorrow night?”
Lucas sighed and bit into the second donut not caring if he got chocolate all over the report he was working on. People round here had short memories he thought as he licked his fingers. This was the first birthday he’d had since coming back from Russia, the last eight having been spent locked up in the hell of a Russian prison. Not that he’d been aware of his birthdays passing; every day seemed much like the one before, the only respite from the monotony being the interrogation and the torture. There’d been days when he’d craved the pain just so he knew he was still alive.
He hadn’t been expecting a big celebration but something told him that he should want to mark this day in some way: give thanks for just being alive. He sighed and wiped his mouth on a napkin before resigning himself to it being just another day and settling down to get some work done.
--
Lucas had never been a religious man; his father was a Methodist minister and had despaired when, once old enough to decide for himself, Lucas had eschewed attending the Sunday service. After leaving the grid that evening and comparing the merits of finding a quiet pub somewhere and drowning his sorrows with going home with a takeaway and opening a bottle of vodka, Lucas found himself sitting inside St Margaret’s in Westminster. Unlike its much more famous neighbour it was peaceful and empty of camera-wielding tourists. He’d never been inside the church before and was struck by its simplicity. He’d been drawn inside by the sound of a voice, the clear bell-like voice of a woman singing accompanied by a piano. Easing the door open he had crept inside and sat silently in a pew at the back. She was standing in the shadows singing Schubert’s Ave Maria. The Latin prayer washed over him as he sat and watched shadows move across the floor as the early evening sunlight streamed through the west windows. He felt at peace.
The music stopped and the owner of the voice stepped out of the shadows bringing him out of his reverie. He stood quickly and turned to leave.
He heard a slight gasp and then she spoke, “You startled me.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.” He turned towards her and smiled. “You sing beautifully.”
She blushed and started to speak but was interrupted by the appearance of her accompanist, a slight bespectacled man with thinning hair who looked over at Lucas with a disapproving glare, “The church is closed to visitors.”
“I’m sorry,” he apologised again. “I heard the music and the door was unlocked.”
“There is a sign.” The man lowered his glasses and raised his eyebrows.
“I’m leaving.” Lucas held his hands up and feeling the wonderful peacefulness that had settled over him drain away, he made his way back outside.
“Well that was bloody rude Brian!” Lucas heard the woman exclaim crossly as he closed the door behind him. He smiled wryly to himself as he wondered how someone could sound so angelic one minute and so fiery the next. He paused outside the door and drew his hand across his jaw as he tried to decide what to do next. For a few minutes in the church he’d felt the weight that seemed to be permanently settled across his shoulders lifting and his heart had felt light and free.
The door to the church opened behind him and a voice said, “Oh good, you’re still here.” She walked around in front of him, an apologetic smile on her face. “I just wanted to apologise about Brian, his bark’s worse than his bite.”
“No, it’s fine. It was my fault.” Lucas shrugged and smiled back at her. Out here in the light he could see that her voice wasn’t the only thing about her that was beautiful. He was struck by her clear blue eyes and the freckles that danced across her face.
She looked him up and down and then said, “Well I’m glad you enjoyed listening. I’ve got to sing that at a wedding on Saturday, it’s good to know it wasn’t too terrible.”
“Terrible? That didn’t even come close to terrible.” Lucas looked at her incredulously.
“Thank you. You’re very kind. I’m Rachel by the way.”
He nodded at her, “Nice to meet you Rachel. I’m Lucas.” A thought struck him. “Isn’t Ave Maria a bit catholic for a Church of England wedding?”
“Not to mention depressing, but between you, me and the man in the sky,” she raised her eyes upwards and whispered conspiratorially, “I’m not sure the bride and groom care. They originally wanted a recording of Beyonce’s version but then thought Schubert’s sounded more religious.” She rolled her eyes and then laughed.
Lucas snorted at this unexpected revelation, “Seriously? I’m not religious but even I think having pop music in there seems sacrilegious. I’m a bit of an old fart though.”
Rachel grinned, “So, does an old fart like you have any special plans this evening or do you fancy grabbing a drink somewhere? Forgive me if that’s too forward.” She bit her lip.
Lucas raised an eyebrow in surprise. “A drink? Y … ye … yes I’d love to,” he stumbled over his words and then coloured as he realised he may have sounded a bit too keen. She was captivating and having been entranced by her voice he was curious to find out more about her.
Rachel just smiled and said, “I know just the place … drink and music to soothe the soul.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him up Whitehall towards Trafalgar Square.
A while later, both a little breathless from the long walk that had been filled with inconsequential chatter and laughter, Rachel pulled Lucas to a halt outside a small entranceway somewhere in the West End.
He could hear the faint strains of music from behind the door and was instantly puzzled. “You said soothing … that sounds French or maybe Spanish.”
She shrugged, “Any music can be soothing if it’s soulful and speaks to you. Anyway, it’s neither.” She opened the door and pulled him inside. “It’s Argentinian.”
After narrowly avoiding stumbling down the stairs and falling into the bar Lucas’ eyes slowly became accustomed to the gloom. They were in a small bar with some tables scattered around what appeared to be a dance floor. As he looked around Rachel thrust a cold bottle of beer into his hand and then pulled him over to a table in the corner. He’d never met anyone quite so tactile. He decided he liked feeling physically connected to someone without the flirting and mind games that often accompanied it. Not that Rachel wasn’t very attractive; he was well aware that she was just as beautiful as her stunning voice, but it felt good to meet someone different and just be … well just be friendly.
“Penny for them?”
“Huh?”
“You were miles away.” Rachel poked his arm accusingly.
Lucas rubbed his jaw. “Sorry, I was just thinking how much I was enjoying your company. I’m glad I came into the church this evening.”
She smiled, “So if I hadn’t dragged you in here what would you have done with your evening?”
“Takeaway and a bottle of vodka probably,” he shrugged.
Rachel raised her eyebrows, “A whole bottle?”
He shrugged again, “It’s been known. I have some extra strong Russian stuff I was thinking of opening.”
“I’m not a fan of vodka, it makes me forget stuff,” she giggled.
“It’s good for that,” Lucas agreed.
“So what do you want to forget then Lucas?” Rachel put her elbows on the table and leant forward watching him curiously.
Lucas’ mind wandered and just for a second his body remembered the pain of torture. He breathed in sharply, his heart speeding up just a little. He lifted his eyes to Rachel’s and knew that she sensed his discomfort. Smiling softly at her he slipped his hand into hers and said honestly, “Too many things, but there’s something I think you should know.”
Her eyes widened slightly.
Lucas leant forward and blushed a little, “Today’s my birthday.”
Rachel gasped, “Really? And you were going to spend it with a bottle of vodka?” She didn’t wait for a reply. “That is tragic!”
Lucas laughed at her incredulity and nodded, “When you put it like that I agree, it is pretty tragic.”
“I know how to fix this.” She gestured to the barman who came over to the table. “Two steak and chips please.”
“How do you know I’m not vegetarian?” Lucas gave her a mock affronted look.
She looked him up and down, “Oh please! If you’re a vegetarian then I’m a shrinking violet.” She frowned, “You’re not veggie are you?”
“No,” Lucas laughed and shook his head, “I’m not.”
“Phew! I do tend to take over a bit.”
“That’s ok. I don’t mind.”
“That’s good then because after we’ve eaten we’re going to dance. Everyone should dance on their birthday.”
Lucas adopted a suitably horrified expression and waved his hands around, “No … oh no … I couldn’t … no … I can’t dance.”
Rachel smirked across the table at him. “People come here to tango so we’re going to tango. Don’t worry, I’ll teach you.”
“You sing and you dance?”
“Yep. I do all sorts of things.” She grinned at him and then let the smile soften. “Please say you’ll dance with me; I reckon you’ll be a natural.”
“Ok … if I agree to dance with you then you have to make me a promise.” Suddenly something seemed very important to Lucas.
“And what promise might that be?” For the first time that evening Rachel looked very slightly concerned.
“Promise me we can do this again sometime.” Lucas clasped both her hands in his and held his breath waiting for her response.
She turned her hands in his and squeezed his fingers, “I’m counting on it. You’re my first fan … I’m not letting you go in a hurry.”
Lucas got the impression that behind all her light-heartedness and banter, Rachel was a sensitive soul and this little encounter or whatever it was meant just as much to her as it did to him.
The steaks arrived and realising he was famished, Lucas tucked in. The food was delicious and it had been some time since he'd eaten a decent meal existing on takeaways and fast food. He decided that this evening was turning out to be much better than he’d anticipated. Steak and beer with Rachel was definitely an improvement on drinks with his colleagues. Much as he liked them, it was good to leave them behind for a while.
While they were eating a young couple made their way to the dance floor and some traditional music started playing that Lucas vaguely recognised.
"Ah, watch this. It's phenomenal," Rachel said excitedly.
"Sounds familiar," Lucas frowned.
"This is some of the best known Argentine Tango music. Now watch carefully ... it'll be your turn soon." Rachel grinned at him.
Lucas gulped nervously as he watched the couple dance, their bodies sliding effortlessly around each other, their legs impossibly twisting and turning together. It was very sexy and mesmerising. He started to regret agreeing to dance with Rachel - this was going to end in an ungraceful heap on the floor.
By the time they'd finished their food a small number of other couples had made their way to the dance floor. Rachel stood up and held her hand out to Lucas. "Coming?"
He sighed and allowed her to pull him out of his seat. Hesitantly he followed her instructions and suddenly he was dancing - well kind of dancing. Laughter bubbled up and he found himself giggling.
"Having fun?" Rachel looked up at him.
"Strangely yes." He pulled her a little closer as she twisted and turned in his arms. "It's ..." he paused, unsure how to describe it.
"Soothing?"
"Yes ... weirdly. And relaxing and ..." Lucas stood on her toe, "Really quite difficult!" He laughed.
"It's ok, I've got another foot."
Slowly but surely Rachel guided Lucas round the dance floor, sliding her feet up his calves, wrapping her legs around his and twisting around him in what could only be described as an erotic manner. Except it wasn't erotic, not really. It was exciting and fun and it made them giggle like school children. It lifted his heart and any trace of the weight of his memories was gone. He felt free.
After quite some time they both fell into their seats clutching cold beers and trying to catch their breath.
Lucas reached across the table and took Rachel's hand. He lifted it to his lips and kissed her knuckles gently. "Thank you."
"It's my pleasure. I can never resist a soul in need of soothing." She pulled his hand across to her own lips and returned the gesture.
"Am I that transparent?" Lucas raised an eyebrow.
"Plain as the nose on your face love." She grinned and squeezed his hand.
"That obvious? Oh no ... that's not good."
After dancing until the small hours Lucas accompanied Rachel home. He asked the taxi-driver to wait as he walked her to her front door.
"Give me your phone." Rachel held her hand out.
"Is this a 'yer money or yer life moment'?" Lucas wiggled his eyebrows as he handed it over.
Rachel sniggered and added her phone number to his contacts before handing it back, "There ... call me when you want to go dancing again."
"Just dancing?"
She blushed, "Well no ... call anytime, call tomorrow ... please?"
Lucas pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. "I'll call tomorrow, I promise." He leant back a little without letting go and placed a chaste kiss on her lips. "Thank you."
"What for?"
"For giving me a wonderful birthday ... for the dancing ... for soothing my soul." He hugged her again.
"You're welcome. Anything for my first fan." She smiled softly and reached up to return the chaste kiss.
They said their goodbyes and she stood and waved as his taxi pulled away.
Lucas slept soundly that night and dreamt of blue eyes, freckles and dancing. He awoke the next morning with a smile, knowing that despite the painful memories there was hope for the future and that while donuts and tea helped, there was very little that couldn't be fixed or soothed by dancing the night away with a beautiful woman or listening to her sing. Life at last had possibilities.