Love and politics

This was not to be his evening, Harge concluded. Most of the time he enjoyed being at the heart of the buzz of a political meeting or the excitement of a social event like tonight’s gala. But this evening he felt unusually tense. Surely, his wife was sitting beside him, looking more beautiful and spirited than he had seen her for a long time. And he was surrounded by his trusted assistants, Richard, as ever annoyingly sticky, included. But his thoughts were somewhere else.

He was acutely aware of Therese’s continuous presence. How he regretted following Richard’s idea to invite a photographer to capture his life as the ambitious, upcoming politician! But of course he couldn’t have known that Fred would send this attractive, strong headed young woman. As he couldn’t have known that Carol would be enthralled by this same woman.

Harge sighed, remembering his talk with Therese in his car. He was ashamed now, knowing he shouldn’t have put this pressure on her. It was unlike him to bully people. But he had to admit that he felt threatened by the frail, seemingly vulnerable girl, who challenged his and Carol’s way of life. Therese had remained silent after he had uttered his warning that she must leave Carol alone. Unable to read her mind, he had concentrated on his driving, his hands clenching the wheel.

The music from the big band that filled the spaces between the various speeches, stopped. Harge knew it was Carol’s turn now to speak to the assembled guests. Usually she would have shown him her speech beforehand to make certain that he agreed with its contents. But this time she had refrained from that. Did she know about his threat to Therese? He now realized he had not spoken to her today aside from the few pleasantries they had exchanged when she joined him at the Eccles Theatre. Did he have to worry about the words she was now about to speak?

Carol rose, gathering her black skirt around her to walk to the microphone. Therese was there, turning her camera on Carol’s smiling face. Harge cringed when he saw how Carol winked at the young photographer before she turned to the audience.

“Mr. and Madam Governor, ladies and gentlemen. I first met Harge Aird when I was five. We were both at the birthday party of Marjorie, one of my classmates. She was my best friend and he her elder brother. Harge was obviously bored to be at a party with only shrieking, five year old girls so he amused himself by chasing after us with his bow and arrow. But today, I know he is actually quite a nice guy …”

Harge saw how Carol smiled, giving the audience time to laugh at her little joke. She had used it before and Harge hoped she would now continue to their time together at Harvard and the start of his political career. She did. Relieved that she seemed to choose the beaten track, he relaxed a bit. But a few minutes later, when Carol was nearing the end of her speech, he sat up in his chair. There was a sudden change in Carol’s tone of voice.

“Harge…” She stopped, then turned to him.

“… we have worked together for fifteen years to arrive at the exciting place where we are now. You are my best friend and the father of our wonderful daughter Rindy. A lot of things are happening in our lives right now and I don’t know what the future will bring for us. But I want you to keep an open mind, to believe in yourself and to go with the change that will invariably come. And know, that I will always be there for you.”

She was handing him a personal message, but in a way that the audience, thinking she was referring to the changes a life in Washington would bring, did not notice it. Harge knew she was telling him they could not go on like this. Their eyes locked. Harge saw affection in Carol’s eyes but also a silent plea to let her go. He nodded almost imperceptibly, then stood up and joined the others to applaud her.

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“Darling, that was a magnificent speech.”

Abby took Carol’s hand when she approached the table to take her seat.

“Come, let’s get out of here.”

Carol followed her friend to one of the terraces. Leaning against the parapet she accepted one of Abby’s cigarettes.

“Do you think he really understood what I was saying?”

Abby’s smile was hidden behind the smoke of her cigarette.

“I’m certain. And if he doesn’t he’ll have to deal with me.”

Carol sighed.

“I hope I’m doing the right thing. In a way I feel sorry for him.”

Abby touched her arm, trying to reassure her.

“Carol, you’re doing fine. He’s a kind man, I think he will understand, even though it will take some time.”

Through the open doors they could hear that the band had started playing again. Abby got rid of her cigarette and reached for Carol’s hand.

“Come on, let’s dance!”

Hand in hand they went back to the foyer. There were already several pairs on the floor, enjoying the orchestra’s swinging fifties songs sung by a young, red haired woman dressed in what looked like a vintage, pink cocktail dress.

“It’s a Quick Step. You lead.” Carol waited until Abby, with a slight bow, invited her to follow her. Both daughters of well to do parents, Carol and Abby had had dancing lessons when they were teenagers and they were still able to dance a decent Quick Step or Waltz if necessary. After a few somewhat clumsy steps, their bodies adjusted to the rhythm and they became part of the swirling group on the dancefloor. Carol felt a lightness settle in her body, something she had not experienced for a long time. Speaking to Harge, albeit in a covert way, had given her room to breathe again.

They had circled the foyer two times when they suddenly came to a stop. Beaming, Abby let go of Carol, turning her to face the person who had crossed the dancefloor to join them.

“Carol, will you do me the honour?”

With a serious face Therese held out her hand. Surprised, Carol reached for her and felt how Therese put her right arm around her waist. Though considerably smaller, Therese evidently was going to lead in this dance.

As if on cue, and Carol saw Abby smiling mischievously, the music changed to a much slower tune and after a few chords the singer started, singing in a lowered voice.

“The night is like a lovely tune,”

“Do you know this song?” Therese hoped Carol would recognize the old Margaret Whiting song.

“My foolish heart…” Carol answered. She raised her eyebrows. “This is no coincidence, is it?”

Therese smiled apologetically.

“You will have to ask Abby.”

They started to move, easily falling into the slow rhythm of the song, that had attracted more pairs that were dancing close. At first Therese allowed some distance between their bodies, but after a few steps she gently pulled Carol closer. They were hardly aware of the eyes that by now were following them.

“There’s a line between love and fascination, that’s hard to see, on an evening such as this,”

“You dance well. I did not expect that of someone of your generation.” Carol looked down at the woman who firmly steered her through the other dancers. Therese shrugged.

“As you once said, I am full of surprises.”

“Her lips, are much too close to mine, beware, my foolish heart,”

Carol felt how Therese tightened her grip and lowering her head she whispered:

“I could kiss you right now…”

Therese blushed, feeling Carol’s breath on her ear.

“I don’t think that’s wise…”

Carol chuckled.

“You’re probably right.”

They were quiet for a while, their bodies moving close, united in this dance and their growing desire for each other.

“For this time, it isn’t fascination, or a dream that will fade and fall apart… It’s love, this time it’s love, my foolish heart.”

Therese moved her hand to touch Carol’s face.

“I want you, Carol. Sleep with me tonight.”

It took all Carol’s willpower not to stop but to keep dancing and not take Therese in her arms and kiss her. Over Therese’s shoulder, she saw Harge looking at them, his face a taut mask. Carol closed her eyes, knowing she had to make a decision. But her doubts were no longer there. Resting her chin on Therese’s hair she murmured:

“Yes.”