Claire-de-Lune

[the following day after their dinner date]

“Thank you for a lovely evening,” said Claire

The pair had taken a Uber back to her home after a delightful Italian meal where they’d spent a couple of hours talking about classical music and venues and piano skills. For both of them, it had been a nice change from normal life.

“Will you be back tomorrow?”

Derek’s face told Claire that he wouldn’t before he spoke.
“Sadly no. I’m flying home tomorrow. The travel people booked me on the early evening flight from JFK. I’ll be going straight from work to the airport. I’ll be back in two weeks from Saturday.”

“Can’t you stay? You know take some vacation?”

Derek chuckled.
“Unfortunately, at the moment, I can’t take any leave. I have a report to write and then I have to present it to the Government Select Committee in London. That can only be done in person. We are at a critical stage in the negotiations. If that gets approved then my work item goes to the sub-committee at the UN and from that, we generate a report. My piece would be about 30% of the final report. The General Assembly wants it all done and dusted before the next session starts in September.”

“Your job is important to you, isn’t it?” asked Claire.

“It is the only job I have but there is not much future in it. Still, it looks good on my CV.”

“CV?”

Derek smiled.
“Resume in American.”

Claire smiled.

“I’ll be sure to stop by when I get back from the UK,” said Derek.

The tone of his voice told Claire that he was sad about leaving.

Derek then did something that was totally out of character for him. He took Clair’s hand in his. Claire’s initial reaction was to pull back but something told her not to.

Derek kissed the back of her hand.
“I’ll be back in two weeks.”

Then he walked off into the gathering gloom of the night.

---

[two weeks later]

Claire was playing a Debussy piece when Derek came to call. He noticed right away that she was not her usual self. The fluency of her phrasing was missing. This puzzled him as Claire had struck him as a perfectionist.

He rang the bell and her playing stopped immediately. He heard her footsteps running towards the door. A shape appeared on the other side of the frosted glass for an instant. The door opened and before he knew it, Claire had wrapped her arms around him.

“You came,” she cried.

Before he could answer her lips found his.

After recovering from the surprise, he responded. His mind was running on overdrive.

“You came back,” said Claire when they broke apart.

Derek was still trying to understand what had just happened.

“I said I would be back today, and here I am.”

“Thank you.”
Claire looked at his slightly dishevelled state.
“Did you fly in today?”

“Yeah. We landed nearly four hours ago but there was just one immigration officer on duty for non-US citizens and they didn’t take kindly to me using the US entry even though it clearly said ‘US Citizens and Diplomats’. They kept me there for nearly two hours. At first they didn’t want to say why. When I requested my phone call to the British Ambassador in DC, they told me why I was being considered for deportation. Apparently, my encounter with the NYPD had not been removed from my record as they’d promised and despite me having the letter of apology from the precinct Captain with me. I still made the phone call and less than 20 minutes later, they let me in. I would have thought that the people at JFK would be familiar with the rules relating to people with diplomatic immunity but honestly, I don’t think that they care.”

“Officials in this City are unreal,” said Claire.
“When we converted this house into apartments all sorts of rules and regulation kept appearing from out of nowhere.”

“They are the same pretty well everywhere,” replied Derek.

“Can I make you some coffee?”

“Not for me. I’ve had far too much today as it is but I do have something for you. Actually, there are two things.”

Derek reached into the carrier bag that he’d brought with him and pulled out a sheaf of papers.
“This is for you. I wrote it years ago when I still thought that I could make it as a musician.”

As Claire looked through the pages of a music score, she began to smile.
“It was unfinished before today, but on my flight back to London two weeks ago, I decided to dust it off and here it is. The only thing is that I have not heard the finished work as I don’t have a piano at my flat in North London.”

Claire smiled.
“Would you like me to play it for you right now?”

Derek shook his head.
“Not now. I need to get some sleep. I spent a lot of sleep time getting this finished as well as this.”
He pulled another score from the bag.

“I composed this when I was a student. It is a two-hander half sonata. It has never been performed other than in my mind. I’d like for us to play it together before I return to London.”

“That seems so final, doesn’t it?”

“Final? I don’t understand?”

“When you go back to London… that will be it. You won’t be coming back. Ever…?”

“Claire?”

“Don’t say anything right now. I have two new pieces of work to learn.”

Derek had always been rather uncomfortable around women and Claire was taking this to another level entirely.

Her attention was 100% on the scores. Derek took the chance and quietly left her alone before he put his foot into something that he didn’t even begin to understand. He began to feel the effects of jet lag catching up on him so he hailed a cab instead of walking to where he was staying.

---

Derek normally used the Sunday before working as a day to recover and prepare mentally before facing up to career diplomats at a UN building all day. On this particular Sunday, he spent most of the time pacing up and down and thinking about Claire. Two questions dominated his mind. The first was whether should he go and visit Claire. The second was about how Claire reacted to his return with kisses. Those very kisses made any decision even more difficult.

He was clear in his mind that he fancied Claire, but the looming end of his visits to NYC would more than likely make any relationship doomed from the start.

As the day wore on, Derek became more and more certain that he wanted to try to have a relationship with Claire and a plan began to form in his mind about making it happen.
With the outline of a plan in his mind, he looked at the difficulties. Uppermost was that he knew literally nothing about Claire, her background or much of anything other than she lived on a ground floor or first floor, to use what to him was the weird American terminology apartment and that she owned the building. He guessed that her tenants paid her enough in rent to live on as he saw no signs of her doing any paid work. Derek concluded that Claire was, as they say, a woman of independent means.

If he was correct with those conclusions then one reason for not agreeing to his plan i.e. a job would not apply but Derek was never a person to suffer from over-optimism. On the odd occasion that he had been optimistic about something, it had come back to bite him hard emotionally and often financially as well.

Derek went to work on Monday with a plan for the evening but as the saying goes, 'The best-laid plans…'. His immediate superior, Don Pratt wasn’t happy with the work he’d done on the proposals while in London.

Derek was irked in that Don Pratt had the revisions to the proposals several days before he'd travelled. They'd even spoken on the phone several times after Derek had delivered the new version of the document. Thankfully, the head of the trade delegation had also received the updated document and was happy with the changes.

Don Pratt retaliated by demanding more changes before the meeting on Tuesday. This all happened as everyone was preparing to leave work at the end of the day. Derek was left with no other choice but to work well into the evening. He finished the changes and sent them to all the people who would need them the following day. He made sure that the time of the email was also part of the subject line. He had no liking for Don Pratt. Derek regarded Don as a workshy-ass licker. The downside was that he was far too late to go and see Claire as well as getting something to eat. He went to his lodgings not that confident in being able to see her the following day.

---

Derek’s office in a UN building was strangely silent when he arrived for work the next day. No one would look directly at him. He knew that he was in for a rocket. He held his head high because he had already decided to resign from his post. Events of the past few weeks had made him realise that he was not a career civil servant. His unwillingness to lick an incompetent manager's boot or worse, their ass had not gone unnoticed. Unlike many others, he had bolt-hole and a job ready and waiting for him. It wasn’t as glamorous as being on secondment at the UN but it was a job.

Almost half an hour after arriving for work, Derek was called into the office of the chief of delegation, James Gardiner.

“What sort of games are you trying to play Derek?” asked Mr Gardiner.

“I’m not playing any games. I wrote the report as we agreed, but Don Pratt didn’t like it so he had me here until nearly eleven last night to use his words, ‘making it acceptable’. As you can see on the subject line of the email that was when sent out the report he wanted. I know it is not what we agreed in London but here, he is my superior and I have to do what he wants.”

Mr Gardiner looked at Derek. Gradually, a smile appeared on his face.

“Thank you, Derek. Don Pratt is an idiot. Your original report is what we agreed and is what I want you to present to the committee tomorrow morning.”

“Sir? I don’t understand?”

“I know that you don’t kiss ass to get on in the world and as such. I appreciate that stance but Don Pratt has been muddying the waters back in London. A friend in HR told me that he has been giving you very bad reviews this past year. That will make finding you another assignment rather difficult. I had it out with Don last night after I read your email. As a result, Don is on his way back to London right now. He is done with the department. I have also ordered HR to remove all of his reviews of you from your file. If all goes well tomorrow then I’ll write a glowing review for you. Your diligence, thoroughness and attention to detail, is what will make this report work.”

Suddenly the looks that he’d received that morning started to make sense. Many of them were personal appointees of Don Pratt.

Mr Gardiner smiled at Derek.
“Once this conference is all over, I will be made ambassador to the EU. I know that times will be hard for us now that we have voted to leave the EU but the PM is relying on people like me to keep the flag flying so to speak. I like your plain speaking so I am sure that I can swing it so that you are my Private Secretary. Are you interested? Unofficially at the moment…”

“Sir… Yes, I am interested, but there is a personal issue that I need to deal with.”

“Here or in London?”

“Here. Why?”

“A young lady I presume?”

“Yes.”

“Then deal with her. I mean in a good way naturally. Follow your heart and when that is sorted give me a call. The word from the FCO[1] is that I won’t be appointed until the new year at the earliest so there is no rush.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Now… About tomorrow? Are you ready to present your original paper to the committee?”

“I think so sir.”

“Then go home, get some sleep and be here at 09:00 tomorrow when we can go over the main points that will probably be questioned during or after your presentation. I don’t expect many as all the main issues have been covered already. We are close to getting this done and on time which in my experience a rarity. Most of that is down to you and your directness. Several of the African delegates have appreciated this refreshing attitude from us.”

“Thanks sir.”

---

Derek headed for his home but somehow, he found himself turning into the street where Claire lived. For a moment, he hesitated then the sounds of his very own composition reached his ears.

He listened intently for nearly a minute before starting to hear some differences from the score that he’d given to Claire. For a brief moment, he got angry, but as he listened to more of her playing, the changes only made the piece a lot better. A smile slowly spread across his face as he walked towards her house.

The playing stopped as he climbed the steps to the front door. He’d hardly gotten to the top when the front door opened and Claire had wrapped her arms around him.

“I was wondering if you had forgotten all about me?”

“How could I do that when you have made my piece so much better.”

Claire blushed.

“I’m so glad that you liked it. I… I hoped that by playing it that you’d come back to me.”

“I never went away. I had to work. I’m presenting our final report to the committee tomorrow. Then there is a bit of housekeeping to do and our work is done.”

“But… you will be going home?”

“I will.”

Claire let Derek go. She looked so sad.

“Why don’t you come with me?”

“Me? I thought that you lived in a small apartment in North London?”

“True but that is only while I work in London. I have tentatively been offered a post as Private Secretary to our new Ambassador to the European Union. That would mean living in Brussels. But I have been working on building a house of my own so I am undecided on the job offer.”

“But…?”

“At least come for a visit. If you don’t like it… A sort of try before you buy.”

Claire didn’t say anything. Instead, she took Derek’s hand and led him into the front room.
“I’ve been playing around with the other piece of yours. We can try to play it together.”

Derek smiled at her very adept way of changing the subject.

---

The last chords of the two-handed piece died away. Derek sat motionless at the piano for several seconds with his eyes closed. Claire was looking at him but he said nothing for almost fifteen seconds. Only the fingers on his right hand moved. He was replaying the last few bars of the piece. Claire let him play it out.

When he opened his eyes, he turned to look at her.

“Those changes are genius. In its original form, it was almost unplayable. I got rid of a lot of the more complex bits, but what you have done is just brilliant. Thank you.”

Before she could reply, Derek kissed her.

“Have you ever composed anything of your own?”

“Not really. A few dabbles but I could never get it written down. You gave me something to work on with your scores. I updated them with my changes but they were not that extensive, more like arranging a piece really.”

“Well, you should try it.”

“The… This city is too noisy. That’s why I play like I do. It is a way of drowning out the endless car horns and cop sirens.”

“Then my home, when I build it, could give you the peace that you want. It is the opposite to the city. Sometimes I find it too quiet.”

“Where is this idil?”

“Let me show you.”

Derek opened his phone and quickly pulled up a map of a village on the western edge of the Yorkshire Dales.

“This is home?”

“It is. I have a cottage on the edge of the village a few hundred metres from the Hotel. There is a full grand piano in the Hotel. I have planning permission to rebuild the cottage and convert the adjacent barn.”

“You gave up all this for working in London?”

“I had to see if I could manage life out in the real world. I’ve been down in London ever since I graduated a little over eight years ago. This assignment has worn me down and I need to get away from London.”

“And by implication New York?”

“This place is only a seven-hour flight away from Manchester so no.”
Then he said,
“Are you going to come home with me?”

Claire looked at Derek for several seconds before saying,
“There is something that you should know about me.”

“Are you married?”

She shook her head.
“No, I’m not married.”

She looked at Derek right in the eye, before saying,
“I’m not married, nor am I a lesbian.”

After a short hesitation she added,
“I’m trans.”

[to be continued]

[The End]
[1] FCO. The Foreign and Commonwealth Office. Deals with Foreign affairs for the UK Government.