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Authors: Michael Wood
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and that he could never have her or someone like her, pulled a familiar dark cloud into his mind.
He tried not to feel sorry for himself. He turned away from the orchestra, away from Leni, and looked out through the window at the morning’s dazzling brightness. The sun made him squint...close his eyes, reminded him of his tiredness...then his weakness...his social incompetence, his ugliness.
When he turned back and opened his eyes, tears discharged themselves. They had taken on a life of their own, tired of being held back.
He reached for his handkerchief.
‘Is it the music?’ Leni whispered. ‘It often makes me cry, it is so beautiful.’
‘Yes...it always does this,’ Hector sniffed. It was only a white lie - he did usually cry when listening to ‘Vocalise.’
Leni sensed his lie. There was something in his tone, his manner, his sad eyes that she recognised. She had seen much suffering, though never in western eyes.
‘I’ll get you some water,’ she said, and left the table quickly.
She had left him alone deliberately, to give him time to recover his composure. Men didn’t like an audience when they broke down. She had seen her father and brothers walk into dark corners when lips began to tremble and eyes moisten.
When she returned, the music had finished and Hector was standing at the main door, apparently recovered.
‘Can I come with you to work,’ he pleaded. ‘I won’t get in the way. Maybe I could help you. Maybe we could talk about music.’
Now she was unable to refuse him. He had touched the soft centre that lay beneath her toughness. Yet, even now, her business-like brain reminded her to spend most of the time picking his brains about HD3000, as she had been ordered.
As they stepped out into the wall of heat, Leni opened her briefcase and took out a piece of cardboard of the same shape and size. She held it over her head, as did many of the people passing by. Like them, a sunshade umbrella was low on her priority list.
*
Hector spent most of the day trying to keep up with her as she dashed around the city calling at offices and factories. At times, she ran and jumped from one jeepney to another as she tried to make as many calls as possible. Only during a short lunch break in Jollybees, which he was glad to pay for, did he manage to talk to her about music. Even then, she soon changed the subject to HD3000. Surprisingly, he found it easy to respond to her endless questions about his special concrete, and watching her listening intently gave his confidence a boost.
He spent most of the day searching for shade as he waited for her outside her clients’ workplaces. On more than one occasion he was questioned by armed security guards and asked to move on. Eventually, he found it easier and more welcoming to wait in nearby shops.
At the end of the day he was exhausted, but Leni looked remarkably fresh. She was about to escort him back to his hotel when he announced: ‘I’ve bought something for you. I hope you don’t mind.’
He gave her a small parcel from which she extracted a small colourful umbrella. Her hand went to her mouth in surprise. Even though she had been pursued by many westerners, none of them had ever bought her a present. They always assumed you were grateful just because they were hunting you. She sensed that this was a genuine gift, not a prelude to seduction. He seemed too shy for that.
‘It’s wonderful,’ she said, giggling like a schoolgirl. ‘It’s beautiful.’ She spun it around above her head, and swivelled on her toes like a ballet dancer.
Hector had never seen such a lovely sight.
‘Thank you very much, Hector,’ she beamed. ‘I will use it every day, and I will take good care of it. Now I’m no longer a cardboard girl.’ She giggled and smiled and admired the umbrella from every angle.
Her reaction surprised Hector. That such a small gift could generate such excitement and pleasure was unexpected. It had changed her from an efficient
He tried not to feel sorry for himself. He turned away from the orchestra, away from Leni, and looked out through the window at the morning’s dazzling brightness. The sun made him squint...close his eyes, reminded him of his tiredness...then his weakness...his social incompetence, his ugliness.
When he turned back and opened his eyes, tears discharged themselves. They had taken on a life of their own, tired of being held back.
He reached for his handkerchief.
‘Is it the music?’ Leni whispered. ‘It often makes me cry, it is so beautiful.’
‘Yes...it always does this,’ Hector sniffed. It was only a white lie - he did usually cry when listening to ‘Vocalise.’
Leni sensed his lie. There was something in his tone, his manner, his sad eyes that she recognised. She had seen much suffering, though never in western eyes.
‘I’ll get you some water,’ she said, and left the table quickly.
She had left him alone deliberately, to give him time to recover his composure. Men didn’t like an audience when they broke down. She had seen her father and brothers walk into dark corners when lips began to tremble and eyes moisten.
When she returned, the music had finished and Hector was standing at the main door, apparently recovered.
‘Can I come with you to work,’ he pleaded. ‘I won’t get in the way. Maybe I could help you. Maybe we could talk about music.’
Now she was unable to refuse him. He had touched the soft centre that lay beneath her toughness. Yet, even now, her business-like brain reminded her to spend most of the time picking his brains about HD3000, as she had been ordered.
As they stepped out into the wall of heat, Leni opened her briefcase and took out a piece of cardboard of the same shape and size. She held it over her head, as did many of the people passing by. Like them, a sunshade umbrella was low on her priority list.
*
Hector spent most of the day trying to keep up with her as she dashed around the city calling at offices and factories. At times, she ran and jumped from one jeepney to another as she tried to make as many calls as possible. Only during a short lunch break in Jollybees, which he was glad to pay for, did he manage to talk to her about music. Even then, she soon changed the subject to HD3000. Surprisingly, he found it easy to respond to her endless questions about his special concrete, and watching her listening intently gave his confidence a boost.
He spent most of the day searching for shade as he waited for her outside her clients’ workplaces. On more than one occasion he was questioned by armed security guards and asked to move on. Eventually, he found it easier and more welcoming to wait in nearby shops.
At the end of the day he was exhausted, but Leni looked remarkably fresh. She was about to escort him back to his hotel when he announced: ‘I’ve bought something for you. I hope you don’t mind.’
He gave her a small parcel from which she extracted a small colourful umbrella. Her hand went to her mouth in surprise. Even though she had been pursued by many westerners, none of them had ever bought her a present. They always assumed you were grateful just because they were hunting you. She sensed that this was a genuine gift, not a prelude to seduction. He seemed too shy for that.
‘It’s wonderful,’ she said, giggling like a schoolgirl. ‘It’s beautiful.’ She spun it around above her head, and swivelled on her toes like a ballet dancer.
Hector had never seen such a lovely sight.
‘Thank you very much, Hector,’ she beamed. ‘I will use it every day, and I will take good care of it. Now I’m no longer a cardboard girl.’ She giggled and smiled and admired the umbrella from every angle.
Her reaction surprised Hector. That such a small gift could generate such excitement and pleasure was unexpected. It had changed her from an efficient
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