Unbearable Lightness of Scones

94. Bruce Amazes Himself

“So,” said Bruce to Lizzie Todd. “What are you doing these days?” A strand of blonde hair had fallen over Lizzie Todd’s brow and she swept it aside before she answered. Bruce wondered: Had she been a blonde when he had met her last? He had a vague memory to the contrary, but it had been years ago. His eyes, though, followed the strand of hair. It was highlighted, he thought; highlighted, at the least.

“Me?” said Lizzie. “I left Glasgow last year and came back through here. I’ve got a flat in Woodburn Terrace. You know that place just after the Dominion Cinema?”

“Of course,” said Bruce. “I surveyed a flat there once. It was rather a nice flat – ground floor. But the people had cats, and you know what they can do to a place. And there were student neighbours.”

“Not all students make a noise,” said Lizzie. “I’ve got some students in the flat next to me, and I hardly ever hear them.” She paused. “Mind you, we made a noise in our student flat over in Glasgow. You could probably hear us in Edinburgh.”

Bruce laughed. “Who didn’t? I suppose that it’s because you’re selfish at that stage.” He heard himself speaking; selfish – he was not selfish any more. Not since four weeks ago.

He looked at her. I could do worse, he thought; a lot worse. But did he want to get involved? There had been no girlfriend since he had split up with… at first he could not bring himself to mention the name, but then he thought – new Bruce, and he uttered it silently: Julia Donald.

“What did you study at uni again?” he asked.

“Indeterminate studies,” she said. “It was a great course. You could design a lot of it yourself – hence the name. You had parameters, of course.”

Bruce nodded. He had never been out with a girl who understood the word parameters. It was a useful word for a girl, he thought, especially at the beginning of a relationship. Now here are the parameters…

“You’re smiling.”

He looked at Lizzie. “I was just thinking of something,” he said.

In the background there was the sound of ice being taken from an ice bucket and put into a glass.

“Was it something I said?”

He smiled, more openly now. “Yes. The word ‘parameter.’ It’s a great word. Like perambulator. That’s all.”

Lizzie looked amused. “We had a lecturer called Steve. He used to talk about parameters all the time. I saw him once in Byres Road with his wife and baby. He looked so… so defeated.”

“Was the baby in a parameter?” asked Bruce.

Lizzie reached out and gave him a playful nudge. Bruce watched her hand, and willed it to stay where it was, but she withdrew it. His gaze moved up; she had a dimple in her cheek – he had never noticed it before, but it was there now, now that she smiled. And she was wearing a perfume that he had smelled before; one that he liked. Perhaps it had been in one of those fold-over and sniff pages in a magazine.

“I like your perfume,” he said. “What is it?”

She looked slightly surprised. “Something my mother gave me. She bought it in the duty free. Want some?”

Bruce arched an eyebrow. “Not for me,” he said.

“You wouldn’t use one of those fragrances for men, or whatever they call them?”

“I wouldn’t mind those. Some of them are great.”

“But you don’t use anything at the moment?”

He shook his head. Then, “Actually, I use a moisturiser. My flatmate talked to me about it. It’s a men’s moisturiser.”

Lizzie approved. “It’s about time that more men used moisturiser,” she said. “You’ve got skin, same as all of us. You need to look after it.”

Sasha, who had been attending to something in the kitchen, now returned. Todd had been busying himself at the drinks trolley while Bruce and Lizzie chatted; he now threw Sasha a glance, one of those signals between married people. She came to his side.

“Raeburn, could you give me a hand with something?” Her voice was loud enough to be heard by Bruce and Lizzie. Lizzie’s eyes narrowed as she looked at her mother, but only briefly.

“Certainly,” said Todd. “Just let me give everybody their drink. Here.” He brought glasses over and placed them on a small table at each end of the sofa on which Bruce and Lizzie were sitting. Then he and Sasha left the room.

Bruce reached for the gin and tonic that Todd had mixed him. He was not very fond of gin and tonic, but had asked for it when he came in because he had been feeling ill at ease and a gin and tonic was a simple request. The glass was cold to the touch, little drops of condensation on the outside, wet against his hand.

He put the glass down and then turned to Lizzie. The strand of hair had fallen over her brow again. He reached out. “Let me attend to that,” he said.

“My hair,” she said. “I need one of those hair bands, but they look so silly.”

“They don’t,” he said. “Or they wouldn’t… on you.”

She smiled at him. He saw her teeth. He leaned forward, across the sofa, and kissed her. He almost overbalanced, but checked himself. Then he pulled back and looked at her. She was staring at him in astonishment.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, half-looking over his shoulder, at the door through which Sasha and Todd had disappeared. “I just felt that I had to do that. Sorry.”

She reached forward, as she had done before; this time she left her hand on his forearm.

“Don’t be sorry about that. In fact… do it again.”

“What about your folks?” he asked.

“They’re in the kitchen.” She paused. “And anyway, I think they like you.”

Bruce hesitated. What he was about to say was not just for effect; new Bruce, he thought. “And do you?”

“Of course. I think you’re… Of course I like you.”

He did not know why he said it, but the words emerged anyway. “Enough to marry me?”

He almost made himself gasp. He sat back and smacked his head with the palm of his hand, the gesture of one who has said something profoundly stupid.

“Well, that’s a bit sudden, isn’t it?” Lizzie said. “But I like you enough to go to the Dominion Cinema with you. That’s a start.”