A Flower

"If I take your hand, and lead you away from here," she said,
looking up at his face. "If we walk together through shady, sun-dappled
places, talking easily of things that matter to us, will you come
willingly?"

"I think I will have to," Mike said.

Rosemary nodded once, as a smile flickered for a moment on her lips.
She reached out for Mike's hand.

He looked at her as his hand moved, seemingly of its own accord,
towards hers. She was smaller than he was. About five foot-eight, he
guessed. Her hair was all the colours of autumn leaves, golden where
the sun caught it, fading to a deep dark rusty brown in the tangle of
thick curls around her neck and shoulders. She wore a short, black
velvet jacket over a black scoop-necked T-shirt and an ankle-length
black dress with large red roses printed on it. Just visible, at the
bottom of her skirt, was a pair of battered, mud-stained motorcycle
boots.

Mike put his hand into Rosemary's hand.

She turned to walk beside him. "Those trees over there," she said,
nodding towards a small copse, about twenty feet from the
riverbank.

Mike could see a few cows in the field beyond the copse. They began to
walk towards the trees.

"If I show you a flower...." Rosemary stopped to kneel down beside a
flower. "If I show you a flower, petals open, damp, moist, waiting for
a kiss," she looked up at Mike, "will you show me a bird? You do
understand, don't you? I'm not being too elliptical, am I?"

"No, I do understand. It is just that, ...just that I feel I don't
belong. Not here, not with you. This is not my world."

Rosemary stood up and took both his hands in hers. "It is your world.
It is your world just as much as it is mine... just as much as it is
anybody's. You just have to be willing to take a few steps in a new
direction, that's all."

"But why me?" Mike said. "I don't think I am your type at all. I mean,
I only ever wear jeans on weekends and holidays. I live my life in
suits and by the clock."

"You're not happy though, are you?"

"I... I don't know. I thought I was."

"Well, Come on then," Rosemary said. She turned, taking his hand and
led him to the trees.

Rosemary's hair looked dark, almost black, in the shade of the trees.
She gently placed the palms of her hands on Mike's cheeks and kissed
him.

"Don't you think people should be naked in the countryside?" she said.
"I think it seems right, somehow." She sat down with her back against a
tree and pulled off her boots. Underneath she was wearing a pair of
multi-coloured, knee-length woollen socks. She laughed when she noticed
Mike staring at them. "I made them myself, do you like them?"

"Oh, yes, very nice."

"Nice? Can't you think of anything better than that?" She pulled up the
socks and smoothed them over her feet. "That's the only trouble with
them. They keep falling down." She put her boots back on, and stood up.
"Are you ready to carry on?"

Mike nodded uncertainly. He had been almost on the point of taking his
shirt off when she spoke of being naked in the countryside. But now
Rosemary seemed as though she was about to continue with their
walk.

"What's the matter?" Rosemary said, looking up at him. "Oh, did you
expect...?"

"Well, no, sort of... yes."

"Oh...." Rosemary said. She looked around, as if seeing the copse for
the first time. "Do you want to fuck then?" She stared straight at
Mike, raising one eyebrow.

"Well, I...." Mike said. "Oh shit, I don't know what to say. Are you
trying to wind me up, confuse me or something?"

"Yes... and no." Rosemary laughed.

She lifted her skirt up slowly. She was not wearing any underwear. Mike
tried not to stare at her rust-coloured pubic triangle.

"Well, what do you think?" Rosemary said. "Shall we fuck or not?"

"You're not being very elliptical now, are you?" Mike said, smiling
hesitantly.

"No, I don't want us to misunderstand each other again." Rosemary took
Mike's hand. She pressed it between her thighs, letting the skirt fall
over his arm. "Is that unambiguous enough for you?" She kissed the tip
of his nose.

"Yes, I can almost believe you now."

Rosemary took her coat off and dropped it to the ground, giving a
slight shiver as Mike's fingers slowly began to move. She removed the
black T-shirt and dropped it on the ground. Putting one hand behind
Mike's head, she pulled him down towards her breasts. Mike sucked a
nipple into his mouth.

"I think we are beginning to understand each other, at last," Rosemary
said softly. She began to unfasten the buttons of Mike's shirt. He
brought his face up, level with hers and they kissed again.

Rosemary unfastened her skirt. She let it fall around her ankles as
Mike took his clothes off. She stepped out of her skirt. "I'm going to
leave my boots on. We must have something that is a little perverse,
don't you think?"

Mike looked around, through the trees, feeling slightly nervous at
being naked out in the open air. He could see no-one, only the cows
that ignored what was happening in the copse.

"Lie down, I want to go on top," Rosemary said.

Mike nodded and did as he was asked. Rosemary stood astride him and
looked down.

"Are you going to show me a flower I can kiss?" Mike said.

"Yes." Rosemary crouched down above Mike. She smiled down at him as she
pressed down on his mouth. "I want to see the bird," she said,
giggling, and rose up to turn around before crouching down again.

*

Some time later, Rosemary lay down beside Mike. He stroked her damp
hair from her face.

She looked across at him. "Did you enjoy that?" she said, suddenly
lifting herself up. She lay on her side, resting her head on her hand
as she looked into his eyes.

"Yes," Mike said feeling as disconcerted by her directness as he had
been earlier by her circumlocution.

"Well, how do you feel about it? Surprised? Disgusted? Grateful?
What?"

"I... I don't know. Should I feel anything?"

"I should bloody well hope so."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean...."

"That is just your trouble. You don't know what you feel, or what you
mean when you try to say what you feel."

"It's just that I'm not sure of what you want, what you expect from me.
I'm sorry."

"You could stop fucking apologising all the time." Rosemary picked up
her coat. She pulled a packet of cigarettes and a lighter from the
pocket. She lit a cigarette and lay back down on her side, supporting
her head with one hand as she smoked. She looked down at Mike's face.
Putting the cigarette in her mouth and screwing up one eye in the
smoke, she smiled at him and winked. She sighed and lay down on her
back again.

A few seconds later, she suddenly sat up and grabbed at his arm,
twisting it so that she could see the face of his watch. "Oh shit,
shit. Look at the time. We have to get back to the campus. I'm supposed
to be giving a seminar on The Female as a Muse."

"I know. You're supposed to be giving it to my group."

Rosemary lit another cigarette as she pulled her clothes, on and then
stood impatiently watching Mike as he tied his shoelaces. "Come on,
let's go."

They walked back rapidly across the field, towards the university
campus. He eyed the cows nervously as they passed the herd, but the
cows seemed indifferent to anything that was not grass.

Mike looked from the cows across to Rosemary as she walked beside him.
"Why? Why me? I don't understand."

She shrugged. "Because you're different. You are not one of the typical
Middle-class culture junkies I usually encounter at these Summer
Schools. I get so pissed off with them and their earnestness." She
stopped walking and turned to face him. "Last night, in the bar when
you told me why you came here. The thing about finding that Yeats poem.
How surprised you were by how profoundly it affected you. Your desire
to know and understand more, which - eventually - bought you to this
course. It really got to me. It reminded me so much of when I was
younger, before it all became routine, a chore. Sometimes, I wish I
could see it all again with innocent eyes, but still knowing what I
know."

Mike felt himself redden slightly as he thought of the previous night.
"I was a bit pissed last night. I came out with a whole load of
rubbish."

"Oh, don't be silly. You said it and you meant it, every word of it.
You weren't that pissed, anyway. I would say we fucked a flame into
being last night."

"What? There you go again." Mike stopped this time. "Sometimes I think
you are using me, playing some sort of game with me. Laughing at
me."

"No, no. It was just a quotation that's all, from Lady Chatterley's
Lover actually."

"You see, you know all this, and I don't. I feel excluded. Like I said,
we are from different worlds."

They had arrived back at the campus. Mike glanced up at the buildings
in front of them; the usual modern concrete and glass towers that could
be anything from a prison to a hospital. It was not what he had
expected. He sat down on a low wall in front of the library; taking her
hand and pulling her down to sit by him.

"Literature is just a mode of discourse though - like fucking really."
Rosemary laughed. "I'm sure that if you talked to me about computers
I'd be just as baffled." She stood up, taking his arm once more to look
at his watch. "I've got to fetch my notes for the seminar. I'll see you
there, in five minutes."

"But there is a difference, isn't there, between literature and ...and
all the other stuff?" Mike seemed eager for Rosemary to answer his
question. "Isn't there?"

Rosemary turned, a few yards down the path. "What do you think?" She
laughed, before turning back and walking on.

END