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You Can't Run Away From Love
From an idea by Elizabeth Sherring - UK
Elizabeth thought it would be a good idea to write something about Catherine competing in the NY Marathon to raise money for a charity and that Vincent with his apptitude for running would make a great trainer for her. I thought that this idea had great prospects and the following shows how that story developed.
Part One
Catherine was depressed.
Three long years of celibacy, and still no sign of any intimate developments between Vincent and herself.
Edie had hit the nail on the head when she had outspokenly said the other day, “Hey Girlfriend, snapping at me ain’t gonna make me download any faster you know; I ain’t part of this computer as much as you like to think I am. I got feelings too, you know.”
Catherine had apologized, but her frayed temper was getting to be more than a habit with her colleagues—Joe had already mentioned it. “You need a holiday, Radcliffe; you’ve seen too much of this place.” But it wasn’t a holiday she needed.
She needed a man. She needed Vincent.
“You need to take up some form of exercise honey,” Edie had told her later that same day. “Something to take away all that excess energy. Either that or get yourself a man.”
Edie knew there was someone, only Catherine had never spoke about him, still Catherine had to ask on this occasion, just what Edie meant.
“I shudder to ask, but why would I need a man?” Catherine grinned.
Edie had looked at her long and hard. “Girlfriend, if that ain’t frustration talking I’d like to know what is. You either make it with the guy or you shelve some of that energy someplace else so that when you do go to bed all you want to do is sleep.”
“And you’d know, of course.” Catherine’s eyes had lit up with humor.
“You are speaking to the world’s most knowledgeable person when it comes to frustration, girlfriend. I know how frustration speaks, and boy does frustration get mad as hell when it speaks. Just like you’ve been doing. Say, if you can’t run towards loving, why don’t you expend yourself in running for charity?”
“Running for charity?” Catherine asked.
“Uh huh, The New York Marathon is coming up, and I know you like running—what say you and me get in some serious training, and make some money for a charity from running the marathon, I’m sure with all your contacts you’d get plenty of sponsors.” Edie had half-heartedly meant it as a joke, but Catherine for the first time in many weeks saw the idea as a godsend. “Okay, we’ll do it,” she told a startled Edie. “Just let me get some new trainers and we’ll get started tomorrow, okay?”
Edie nodded. The radical change in Catherine was startling; already that sullenest had left her friend’s eyes. Boy, having something to look forward to had certainly changed her friend’s outlook on life.
Still Edie frowned; using up one’s energy on exercise was in no way a cure for the real problem, and Cathy might be able to run the marathon, but she couldn’t run away from love. No whatever the problem in Cathy’s secret relationship, a marathon was not the answer, only confrontation would do that and Edie made up her mind to talk to Catherine about that in the weeks ahead.
*** *** ***
“Well you certainly deserve every praise my dear...” Father poured Catherine a cup of tea. “Running the New York Marathon will take a great deal of energy—do you think you have the stamina?”
“Not yet, Father, but with your advice I think I can do it.” Catherine took the cup from him, and sipped the tea thirstily.
“Not just advice, but you’ll need to train too. And when will you get the time? It’ll be dark when you leave work.”
“I know; with all the extra hours I am having to put in, it will be difficult. I wondered if Vincent would help me. On weekends I’ll train with Edie, but I could do with running every night, really.”
“And you think trying to keep level with Vincent would be good for you... Good grief, Catherine, you are more deserving than I thought—Vincent is the fastest runner I’ve ever known.”
Catherine laughed. “But he wouldn’t be racing me, just pacing me.”
“And keeping you safe.”
Catherine grinned. “And keeping me safe. The Park is a dangerous place to run at night.”
“You could use the tunnels. We could advance warn everyone to stay out of the area while you run, so to avoid knocking anyone over. What about that my dear?”
Catherine nodded. “Whatever you think best, though the odd night above won’t hurt, if Vincent is willing.”
At that moment Vincent entered and caught the tail end of their conversation, his eyebrows rose, though he said nothing.
Father answered his silent question. “Catherine is training to run the New York Marathon for charity, Vincent, and she needs to train.”
Catherine picked up from here. “Yes, I was hoping you might pace me up in the park at night, but Father suggested using the tunnels.”
Vincent took up his seat thoughtfully; he enjoyed running, and was delighted to help. “That is very commendable of you, Catherine. The New York Marathon is quite a feat. I’d be glad to help. When would you like to start?”
“Well, there’s no time like the present as they say, but I thought the after the weekend. Edie and I are going to run together and I have promised that I would train with her in the park every Saturday and Sunday, so then Monday, if that's all right with you?”
Vincent nodded. “Monday it is. If it’s wet and slippery or windy we’ll run Below; otherwise we’ll go Above.”
Catherine nodded, excitement flaring through her veins already. Spending time with Vincent like this was exciting, and she looked forward to it immensely, unaware that Vincent was in an equal frame of mind.
*** *** ***
A contentious runner, Catherine soon picked up the pace with Edie that weekend, stopping only to mop her brow or to collapse in a fit of giggles each time her friend asked her to slow down.
“I thought you said you could run?” Catherine asked Edie on more than one occasion.
“I can—I’m just so obviously carrying a few more pounds than you,” Edie laughed along, happy more than anything to see the sadness flee from her friend’s face.
“I could do with a break, though. Fancy taking a breather?”
Her leg bent out in front of her as she massaged the backs of her calves, Catherine grimaced at her friend. “Go on admit it, you can’t run for toffees.”
Edie shrugged. “There’s no hiding anything from you, is there?”
“Then why did you suggest it?” Catherine left her massaging alone, and came to rest on the park bench alongside her friend.
“I thought it would be good for you. Get you out of yourself. Like I told you before Cathy, if you haven’t got a man to absorb all that countless energy, then frustration will make you snappy. And boy, are you often snappy. You’d make a crocodile envious.”
“That bad, huh?” Catherine was thoughtful.
Edie nodded. “Want to talk about it?”
“It?”
“Well, him then. Why has he left you dangling so long?”
“It’s complicated, Edie.” Catherine was grateful for her friend’s concern, but only those that knew the full story could ever begin to understand it.
Edie sighed. “Something has got to give, girlfriend. I see you as the passionate type, not the compassionate type. That is, you can only go so long giving without receiving before it’ll crack you up. What’s with this guy anyway? Why won’t he love you?”
“He does, Edie, in his own way. In many respects, the way he loves me is everything.” Catherine replied misty eyed.
“Sometimes everything needs more, baby.”
Catherine grinned at her friend. “Don’t worry about me, Edie. I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, just so long as you keep telling yourself that, even in those quiet moments when your heart is breaking.” A pitying glance fell across Edie's features.
Catherine said nothing, instead making it plain that she’d had enough rest and was ready for the off again. Sometimes Edie got just too close to the bone for her liking.
*** *** ***
If her jaunts with Edie were worrying, then her jaunts with Vincent were all the more so. Being with the one she loved and having him pace her as they fled through the park several evenings later, was almost more than she could bear.
Running breathlessly to a standstill, and holding her sides while he merely looked out of breath alongside her, Catherine marveled at his physique.
She was also left in awe for the amount of times he had crossed the city at breakneck speed just to rescue her.
It was more than she could do not to allow her mind to picture those long legs and muscles in action. That mighty heart pounding on her behalf. Catherine grew weak at just the mere thought of it.
Still, the weeks spent training with Vincent and Edie did have the required effect; all that exercise did sap her energy, so that oftentimes she fell asleep almost as she closed her apartment door, or even before she had reached her bed!
That in itself gave her mind the respite it needed. Unable to think of anything other than her caseload day after day, Catherine pushed all other thoughts to the back of her mind. Her whole intent now was to run the marathon, and do a good day’s work. Other than that, she was simply too tired to think about anything else.
Yet when it came, everything fell flat in her face.
The day of the marathon loomed and was gone, like a breath of wind. She had run it and she had finished it, and for mere moments, she had felt elated that she had achieved something worthy of the sponsorship money she had been pledged for a worthy cause, but when it was over what was there left? Nothing. Nothing but the full force of everything she had kept at bay for the past six weeks, coming crashing down on her once again.
Again Edie despaired, knowing that the six-week respite had simply done its trick at the time for her friend. But unless her friend trained for another year up to the next marathon, (and she couldn’t quite imagine this happening), then it was time to meet the other problem head on.
But how, that was the problem. If Catherine was content to plod along in the relationship without moving forward, surely that was her lookout?
Edie knew though that she couldn’t allow this to happen. A good friend was a doing friend, and anything she could do right now she would do, even if it meant stooping to deception. To see her friend happy would be worth it.
*** *** ***
It was about ten days after the marathon, when Edie found Catherine scribbling a note as Edie arrived to meet up with her friend for lunch.
“Had enough, have we?” Edie remarked when Catherine obviously hadn’t noticed her standing there waiting.
“Hi Edie. What?” She looked up briefly then down at the note again.
Edie nodded, gesturing towards the note. “That your resignation, girlfriend?”
Folding the note, and straightening, Catherine laughed. “No.”
Edie had decided a few days ago that she wasn’t going to learn anything if she wasn’t pushy enough. She started now. “Who then, your dry cleaner?”
Again Catherine laughed. “No, it’s for a friend.”
BINGO!
Edie noticed the look, the sparkle that appeared in Catherine’s eyes when she spoke of this friend. It was him, it had to be. He was the only one that could inspire such a look in her friend.
Edie fell silent. She wondered how Catherine would get the note to Vincent. Edie had no idea where he lived, and as Catherine had not slipped the note into an envelope, Edie grew even more curious.
“I’ll get my purse,” Catherine told her, reaching beneath her desk. “Right then... You coming, I’m starving.”
*** *** ***
Outside, the bright sunshine hit the two women simultaneously, and Edie reached into her bag for her sunglasses. She made more of a show of searching for them while round about Catherine seemed to be searching for something else. Edie had seen this before, and she felt pretty sure she knew who Catherine was searching for.
Suddenly a blast of sound from around the corner caused Catherine’s face to light up. “Just wait here a moment Edie, I’ll be right back.”
“No chance,” Edie muttered under her breath, and followed her friend around the corner, standing a reasonable distance away. From there she saw Catherine take the note from one pocket, and ten dollars from her purse, wrap the note inside the money and after speaking to the Negro with the saxophone for a moment, drop the two together into his money-filled cap at his feet. That done, Catherine returned to her friend hardly seeming to notice that Edie had moved away from the spot where she had left her.
Edie took all this in without saying a word.
In fact all through dinner she kept the conversation light, and more than once Catherine commented on Edie’s distraction.
“I’m just a little tired,” Edie told her, feeling guilty for lying. In truth, her mind was spinning and everything her friend was saying simply washed over her.
If that note was for this Vincent, then that Negro must know where he was. Or maybe he knew of someone that did. But Edie well knew that the very mysterious Vincent was not about to pop up and say hi, no matter who she bribed to take her to him, but somehow she had to have a word with him. In fact, several words might do the trick.
Whatever, she only had Catherine’s feelings at heart, and felt that she would be able to help, if only she knew where to begin.
“I say, earth to Edie...” Catherine waved a hand before her friend’s face, startling Edie into jumping. “What? Oh sorry, Cathy. I was miles away.”
“So who is he?” Catherine’s face lit up.
“Who?”
“Oh come on, I know the signs, you’re mooning over some guy. Want to talk about it?”
For a moment Edie felt like retorting, ‘You first.’ But she kept silent. She knew from of old that Catherine did not talk about this man. That was half of the problem.
Edie shook her head, “There’s no keeping anything from you, is there?”
Catherine shook her head, grinning. “Is he nice?”
“Oh, you know me—always the bridesmaid never the bride. I’ve not met him yet,” Edie remarked unthinkingly, then at Catherine’s frown, covered up with, “I was dreaming of Mr. Right, and wondering when he might possibly show.” Suddenly she had an idea. “Hey, that sax player you spoke to he wouldn’t be free, would he?”
“You are kidding?”
Edie was. He was way too old for her, but to be able to get to know him, ask him a few questions, a date with him would be worth that.
Edie’s silence worried Catherine. “You’re serious?”
“Must have been love at first sight,” Edie quipped.
Catherine was surprised. “Must have been. And I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but he’s spoken for.”
“Damn, another wasted dream.”
Catherine laughed at her friend, and Edie made more of an effort to enjoy lunch with her friend, there would be time for planning later.
At least now she did have a springboard to alight from.
*** *** ***
It was after six but he was still there. Edie had pondered all afternoon on the problem, and she had had to wait until Catherine had left the office before she even dared to attempt it. Looking out of the office window, Edie sighed with relief when she saw Catherine hail a cab several floors below, and get inside.
With that Edie grabbed her coat and set off after her, praying that the old Negro would still be around.
She’d been in luck. Though she had not known he had stayed longer merely to hand Catherine a reply to her note, he was already packing up his things as Edie approached.
“Hi handsome,” Edie greeted him, but he did not look up. Just concentrated on putting his saxophone away.
“You play real nice,” Edie complemented him, and he stole a look up at her as he lovingly caressed his saxophone before closing the lid.
“You want something?” he asked Edie, well aware that strange women did not usually approach him with chat up lines.
“Yes. Do you know a guy called Vincent?” Edie watched his eyes closely, and she was impressed when he gave nothing away.
“I know many Vincents; which one would you have in mind?” He finished his packing, and made to move off.
“Wait!” Edie caught his arm and as he stared down at her hand, she released him. “Can you take him this note?”
“Him?”
“Vincent.”
“Which Vincent?”
“You know the one.” Edie felt a bit of a fool, the guy probably did know lots of Vincents. It was also probable that he knew only the one. Handing him a dollar bill along with the note, the Negro hesitated, then shrugged, she was hardly handing him a bomb. He took the note, there was no harm in passing it along, and she obviously knew of Vincent anyway.
“See that only he gets it,” Edie told him.
The Negro nodded, and then disappeared into the crowd, leaving Edie standing alone thinking to herself, 'Well you've done it now, girl... So what happens next?'
*** *** ***
Back home, Edie began to worry. What if this Vincent met Catherine first tonight, what if he showed her the note, what would Catherine think of her for meddling? Her thoughts ran riot as she paced her living room frantically biting her nails.
Across the city, Catherine also paced her living room. What would Vincent be thinking? She had made it plain in her note. Plain that she wanted their relationship to move ahead. But his reply handed to her by the saxophone player had suggested nothing. ‘Your balcony, 10 p.m.’
Catherine felt her jangled nerves stretch to the limit. Her note had been well thought out, but nonetheless—was she right to suggest this for them? Just a few words that would make it oh-so plain that she needed this from him, needed him to make a commitment. Catherine needed that security more than anything. But when she thought over her words, she had regrets. The words were simple but the meaning was plain—“Vincent, the wall between our worlds has grown thin.”
She knew he would understand. Those weeks together training for the marathon had brought them closer, and at one time Vincent had spoken to her about how proud her father would have been of her, and the conversation had developed into another time, with Catherine reminding him, “Vincent, remember that time after my father died and I asked if we would ever be together, truly together, and you said when we were able to face the fears and move through them?”
And of his reply, “How could I forget?” His voice had been tinged with such sorrow, that Catherine could clearly see how disappointed still he was, that she had returned to her world. His next words confirmed it.
“But your world called you back, Catherine. It is not just our fears that we have to move through. We have also to face the fact that there is a wall between our worlds that is simply impassable.”
Catherine had felt too sad to find an answer at that moment, and it was only as the days went by that she found one that would convince him of her sincerity. She was ready to pass through those fears. She was ready to live in his world, with him.
So she waited, and she paced, and she wondered and she hoped and prayed that everything would turn out well for them. He was her life, and she wanted to spend that life with him, as one.
Below, Vincent held both Catherine’s note and Edie’s out in front of him. He was concerned about them both.
Catherine’s note, having arrived earlier, had worried him enough, but he had almost managed to find the reply he must make to her supplication. Then Edie’s had arrived and everything he had decided to tell Catherine fled his mind.
Catherine was, he thought, a woman of both worlds. She did immense good, the marathon only highlighting what she could do for others. Though he would love to have her in his world, he could not allow this, and besides what could he offer her but himself, and that was not nearly enough even if it were possible.
His well-chosen words then fled his mind as he read Edie’s note, his heart aching as he knew he would have to find answers he wasn’t sure he was capable of giving.
*** *** ***
He was late, and that was unlike him. Catherine leaned over the balcony wall. It was ten after ten. She worried, but she felt he was safe. She would know if he wasn’t, of that she was certain. The Bond had grown stronger between them of late.
She could also tell he was apprehensive about something, and that only served to add to her nervousness. Perhaps he couldn’t meet her after all, perhaps he didn’t want this confrontation between them. Facing issues that had long been denied between them.
Catherine looked out over the park, willing him to come to her, willing him to take her home.
*** *** ***
Vincent felt Catherine’s anxiety. Usually he would have sent her his love, but he thought she might misinterpret it on this occasion. Besides he still wasn’t certain what he was going to tell her.
Deftly he made his way to a Helper’s apartment, hoping that whatever transpired from this would give him his answer.
*** *** ***
When the shrill of the telephone sounded in the otherwise quiet apartment, Edie jumped. It was him! It had to be—no one else rang her at this hour usually.
“Hello.” She snatched up the receiver and held it to her ear, speaking before it was in place.
“Edie?” Came the whispered inquiry.
“Yes?”
“This is Vincent. You wanted to speak to me?”
Oh God, now what? Edie’s mind raced. There was so much to say, yet nothing to say; what business of hers was it anyway? And then a mental image of Catherine’s sorrow passed through her mind, and Edie knew.
“Yes. Thank you for calling. I take it you are the Vincent that knows Catherine?”
There was a moment’s hesitation, a way to get out of this perhaps? Then Edie heard him sigh, “Yes.”
She released a breath, unaware she had held it.
“Vincent, this is probably none of my business, but I think a lot about Catherine. She is a good friend to have.”
“I know.”
Disregarding the comment, Edie raced on, “And I am concerned about her.”
“Concerned? Why?”
Oh, to hell with it. This super-smooth talker, with the velvety rich voice that had sent her limbs to water wasn’t gonna intimidate her, she’d got her chance and she wasn’t gonna live to regret it. “Well it’s like this, Vincent—you just ain’t playing fair with my friend’s affections. She’s miserable man, God dammit—she worships the ground you walk on, and you keep her on a tightrope.”
She heard him suck in a breath. “She told you this?” Somehow he couldn’t imagine it.
“Not in so many words, but it’s easy to see. Vincent, are you blind as well as selfish?”
Vincent felt his temper rising, and he bit back an angry retort plus the desire to slam down the phone. How dare she say that to him. She didn’t even know him, but his curiosity got the better of him. This was one of Catherine’s friends; he should at least listen to what she had to say.
“I am not blind,” he replied, ignoring the taunt to his being selfish.
“Well I think you are. You see Cathy every day, well—almost every day—can’t you see what’s beneath your very nose?”
Without waiting for his reply, Edie went on. “She loves you, man. She loves the pants off you.” Edie almost laughed at that, not quite the right choice of words there—way to go girl. If she knew Cathy, Cathy would crack up at that. Nonetheless, Edie went on without apologizing for her choice of words. “I ain’t wanting to watch my girlfriend waste away while waiting for you to do something about that. If you don’t do something about the way she feels about you, you’re gonna set her crazy, Vincent. Move ahead man, do something about it, stop trying to run away from love. Stop messing around with my girlfriend’s emotions. You’re keeping her on a string, man.”
“Are you finished?” Vincent spoke now, unable to hear anymore. Edie detected the underlined anger in his tone, and this time she apologized. “Forgive me. I was out of line. I just care about my friend, and she’s hurting. She’s hurting real bad, and only you can heal that kind of hurt, Vincent.”
For long moments, there was silence. Vincent could find nothing to say. Indeed he didn’t know how to respond. Edie had surely given him more than enough to ponder on!
Eventually Edie broke the silence. “You still there?” She knew he was. The sound of his ragged breathing had enlightened her to that fact.
“Yes.”
“Maybe I should butt out, I don’t know the facts. It’s just that I see things as they are. Everything is black or it’s white; there is nothing in-between. No shades of grey. So either you and Cathy love each other and have a life together or you don’t. In my book it’s as simple as that.”
Again there was silence. Edie grappled with thoughts in her mind, dismissing this, dismissing that. Finally, she thought perhaps he hadn’t the will or the strength to disconnect the call—perhaps she should do that. “Look, Vincent, I’m gonna say goodbye now, but promise me one thing?”
“Yes?” Edie detected that minute words were all he could manage right now and even that affirmation had come out on a hiss. She almost felt sorry for him.
“You either love my friend or you let her go to find someone that will. No one that beautiful deserves to spend their life alone.
Goodbye, Vincent; hopefully we’ll meet some day under better circumstances.”
She took the receiver from her ear to replace it on the cradle, and thought just before she lay it down, that she heard him murmur ‘thank you.’ But maybe that was just wishful thinking.
*** *** ***
Eleven p.m and still no sign of him.
Although the Bond relayed his well-being, Catherine was worried.
Maybe something Below had delayed him, but she knew differently.
Her note had stalled him; she was certain of it and sorrow knifed through her that she had forced this upon him.
Growing chilly waiting out on the balcony, Catherine stepped back into the semi-warmth of her apartment. The doors had been open so long that the room was chilled, and Catherine turned the heating up a notch to counteract this. Rubbing her hands over her arms, Catherine crossed to the kitchen to make herself a hot drink, though well-aware that nothing could warm her right now. This coldness that seeped from the inside out could never be warmed without his love.
Wrapped in self-misery, Catherine did not at first hear the gentle tapping. It was only when the door handle from the balcony turned that she raced out into the lounge in time to see Vincent stepping through the doors and into the room. Catherine froze, momentarily stunned that he had entered the apartment with such ease.
“Ah, Catherine. I did knock...” his words trailed away, and Catherine noted that he looked troubled, haggard even.
“Is something wrong, Vincent? She came towards him holding out her hands, clasping his glove-covered hands in hers.
“Wrong? No. Nothing is wrong.”
“You are so late... I was worried.”
“There was a matter I had to attend to.” His eyes did not meet hers, and Catherine was left feeling troubled even further.
“What is it, Vincent? Was it the note?”
“Note?” He was wary. Did she know that Edie had sent one?
“Yes—you did get my note, I take it?” Half of her hoped he hadn’t.
Arh—that note!
Vincent nodded. “Yes.” For some reason he seemed relieved. And her mood lightened. Perhaps things weren’t going to be so bad after all.
“Catherine, it’s late. I shouldn’t have come at such an hour, but I couldn’t just not turn up, and I was out anyway.” Catherine looked at him dearly, he was gabbling—Vincent never did that. She almost laughed at him, but sensed that whatever was troubling him was serious. Silently she waited for him to continue.
“Can I visit you tomorrow, Catherine? Or maybe you would come Below?” His latter request was hesitant, almost fearful; Catherine detected nervousness in him. Her heart went out to him.
“Yes. I have to work this Saturday, Vincent. I should be done by lunchtime though. Shall I meet you at the threshold?”
He was thoughtful, pondering. He knew the likelihood that he would get no sleep until he had spoken with her anyway. He nodded, then affirmed, “No come to my chamber, if I am not there I will be beside the Falls.”
That was significant.
Catherine’s heart hammered. “Shall I go to you there?”
For a moment Vincent could not reply, and for a moment leaned his forehead against hers, almost as if he hoped the gesture would infuse her strength into him. “Yes,” he spoke so silently that Catherine barely heard it.
Again her heart went out to him, and she caught his arm as he turned to leave. “Vincent?”
His eyes when he looked at her were unreadable, Catherine detected a hint of sorrow, but it was quickly gone. “Yes?”
“Remember love.”
He nodded, how could he forget love?
Especially this night?
*** *** ***
To be concluded in part two.
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