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Authors: Talli Roland
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with the scent of his cologne, and Clare’s stomach shifted unpleasantly as she breathed in the spicy fragrance.
Nicholas leaned over and kissed her cheek. ‘Good to see you again. Thanks for coming out at the last minute. I’m glad you were free .’
‘That’s one advantage to not having children,’ Clare said. ‘No need to arrange babysitters.’
Nicholas nodded. ‘You’re lucky. And so am I,’ he added. ‘The cost of childcare these days is crazy, from what I hear.’
‘It’s been ages since I’ve been to the opera,’ Clare said, eager to change the topic away from children. She tilted her head, trying to remember when she’d last seen a performance. Maybe in secondary school, on a school trip? Even then, it was only the local theatre production of Aida . Wincing, she recalled how the singers were more suited to scaring off wildlife than performing arias.
‘Oh, really?’ Nicholas gave her a sidelong glance as he pulled into the street. Fulham Road was clogged with Saturday night traffic , and Nicholas darted around a cab that had stopped to let out passengers. ‘That’s a shame. Well, you’ll love this, I’m sure. I try to catch at least one show a season.’
‘What’s the story?’ Clare asked, impressed to find a man interested in culture. Most of the blokes she met treated culture like a venereal disease.
‘Actually, it’s quite tragic.’ Nicholas swerved to avoid a white van. ‘A Japanese woman marries an American soldier. He leaves to go back to America, promising he’ll return. In the meantime, she gives birth to his son.’
Clare nodded, admiring his clean-cut profile. He had a strong nose and jaw, she decided, just the way she liked it. ‘And?’
‘Well, he does come back—with his American wife.’ Nicholas grinned. ‘Men, eh?’
She forced a smile, thinking once again that pregnancy and children weren’t beneficial for women, no matter the age or the culture . Sure, there were successful examples like Ellie, who seemed to be holding it all together. But more often, motherhood made women vulnerable, dependent on those around them.
‘Anyway, the long and short of it is, Madame Butterfly kills herself.’
‘Wow.’ Clare raised her eyebrows at the dramatic conclusion. So much for a little levity on a Saturday night. God, even at the opera she couldn’t escape from children and the inevitable tragic consequences.
‘I know,’ Nicholas said. ‘Rather heavy going. But the music is divine, I promise, and the sets and the costumes are beautiful. I’ve seen the opera several times, and on each occasion I’ve really enjoyed it.’
‘Thanks for asking me.’ Despite balking at the sudden invitation, Clare was happy now she’d pushed aside her hesitation.
‘My pleasure.’ Nicholas squeezed her hand. ‘I’m delighted you could make it.’
‘Me, too,’ she said, as his warm fingers intertwined with hers. ‘Me, too.’
Four hours later, Clare followed Nicholas down the curving stairs of the opera house, feeling like she was in a trance. The performance had been simply breathtaking; there was no other word for it. The music had swirled around her ears, transporting her to another time and place, and even though she hadn’t understood everything, the emotion was palpable. She’d never thought music could have so much power.
‘That was amazing,’ she said when they were out on the street and the spell had dissipated.
Nicholas placed a hand gently on her back. ‘I know. I told you you’d enjoy it.’ He glanced at his watch, then checked his mobile phone. ‘Right. Got time for dinner? I’m ravenous.’
Clare’s hand slid down to her belly. Despite not eating since lunch, she wasn’t the slightest bit hungry. Even though she had to be up early tomorrow morning, she wasn’t ready for the evening to end. The music was wonderful, but she hadn’t been able to chat much to Nicholas.
‘Dinner would be great.’ She smiled as he took her hand and led her to
Nicholas leaned over and kissed her cheek. ‘Good to see you again. Thanks for coming out at the last minute. I’m glad you were free .’
‘That’s one advantage to not having children,’ Clare said. ‘No need to arrange babysitters.’
Nicholas nodded. ‘You’re lucky. And so am I,’ he added. ‘The cost of childcare these days is crazy, from what I hear.’
‘It’s been ages since I’ve been to the opera,’ Clare said, eager to change the topic away from children. She tilted her head, trying to remember when she’d last seen a performance. Maybe in secondary school, on a school trip? Even then, it was only the local theatre production of Aida . Wincing, she recalled how the singers were more suited to scaring off wildlife than performing arias.
‘Oh, really?’ Nicholas gave her a sidelong glance as he pulled into the street. Fulham Road was clogged with Saturday night traffic , and Nicholas darted around a cab that had stopped to let out passengers. ‘That’s a shame. Well, you’ll love this, I’m sure. I try to catch at least one show a season.’
‘What’s the story?’ Clare asked, impressed to find a man interested in culture. Most of the blokes she met treated culture like a venereal disease.
‘Actually, it’s quite tragic.’ Nicholas swerved to avoid a white van. ‘A Japanese woman marries an American soldier. He leaves to go back to America, promising he’ll return. In the meantime, she gives birth to his son.’
Clare nodded, admiring his clean-cut profile. He had a strong nose and jaw, she decided, just the way she liked it. ‘And?’
‘Well, he does come back—with his American wife.’ Nicholas grinned. ‘Men, eh?’
She forced a smile, thinking once again that pregnancy and children weren’t beneficial for women, no matter the age or the culture . Sure, there were successful examples like Ellie, who seemed to be holding it all together. But more often, motherhood made women vulnerable, dependent on those around them.
‘Anyway, the long and short of it is, Madame Butterfly kills herself.’
‘Wow.’ Clare raised her eyebrows at the dramatic conclusion. So much for a little levity on a Saturday night. God, even at the opera she couldn’t escape from children and the inevitable tragic consequences.
‘I know,’ Nicholas said. ‘Rather heavy going. But the music is divine, I promise, and the sets and the costumes are beautiful. I’ve seen the opera several times, and on each occasion I’ve really enjoyed it.’
‘Thanks for asking me.’ Despite balking at the sudden invitation, Clare was happy now she’d pushed aside her hesitation.
‘My pleasure.’ Nicholas squeezed her hand. ‘I’m delighted you could make it.’
‘Me, too,’ she said, as his warm fingers intertwined with hers. ‘Me, too.’
Four hours later, Clare followed Nicholas down the curving stairs of the opera house, feeling like she was in a trance. The performance had been simply breathtaking; there was no other word for it. The music had swirled around her ears, transporting her to another time and place, and even though she hadn’t understood everything, the emotion was palpable. She’d never thought music could have so much power.
‘That was amazing,’ she said when they were out on the street and the spell had dissipated.
Nicholas placed a hand gently on her back. ‘I know. I told you you’d enjoy it.’ He glanced at his watch, then checked his mobile phone. ‘Right. Got time for dinner? I’m ravenous.’
Clare’s hand slid down to her belly. Despite not eating since lunch, she wasn’t the slightest bit hungry. Even though she had to be up early tomorrow morning, she wasn’t ready for the evening to end. The music was wonderful, but she hadn’t been able to chat much to Nicholas.
‘Dinner would be great.’ She smiled as he took her hand and led her to
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