The lights dimmed and both men turned to face the stage.
A dean she had never seen before appeared in the spotlight and announced the guest.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it is indeed an honor for the University of Edinburgh to host the main lecture of renowned American parapsychologist, historian, and philosopher, Dr. Richard Phillips, gracing our Scottish shores all the way from Connecticut,” the impeccably dressed man said, as his perspiring face glinted in the light. “I am sure we are all very excited to be enlightened this evening, to probe the underlying consciousness of science, still a subject of great debate on the academic front.”
Nina watched the old man and his colleague intently, considering leaving the auditorium to evade them. She did not care if she felt paranoid in thinking thus. It was better to avoid trouble than to brave the unknown intentions of what could be those kind of people again.
Briskly she rose from her seat with such stealth that she seemed no more than a shadow while the applause filled the hall. Keeping her eye on the EXIT sign, Nina crept quickly along the row of seats and made her escape.
Outside the weather was unruly and she had to pull her coat collar up as she stepped out from the main doors of the auditorium. In the reflection of the glass doors she could discern a figure on her trail, but she was not ready to find out if the person was following her or just happened to be there. Nina elected to use the smaller side gate next to the building to hail a taxi, hoping that there was one readily available. The streets were alive with passing traffic and sharp headlights blinded the small brunette as she left the university premises, the wind whipping the lengthy curls of her hair. Now and then she cast a glance back to see if she was being followed, a habit she had cultivated through the last few years.
A big silver SUV stopped in front of her and the door clicked open slightly. From inside she heard a woman’s voice, “Nina! Get in.”
Nina was amazed to see Gretchen’s face, beaming with delight at seeing her. She had no idea how happy Nina was to see her as well.
“What the hell are you doing in Edinburgh?” Nina asked her, astonished at seeing her old friend.
“I came to visit you while taking in Dr. Phillips’ lecture, you idiot. Why else would I come to this hotbed of ancient rot that held no fond memories? The things I do to see you,” she sighed, her playful manner still the same as it was all those years ago.
“Then why aren’t you in the auditorium?” Nina asked.
“I was, but I saw you leave,” Gretchen said. “Fancy a drink?”
Chapter 2
As they drove up Johnston Terrace toward Nina’s suggested pub, there was a network of memories and events exchanged between the two women in the car. Nina listened as Gretchen told her of her fairytale marriage that ended in dire heartbreak at the death of her husband in a construction accident in Italy. She had been teaching at several colleges and universities all over Europe, but the warmth of the Mediterranean countries appealed most to her. It was odd for Nina to hear, since she remembered that Gretchen was a skiing champion and could never wait for the German winter so that she could go hunting with her father and his brothers in the Schwarzwald and gallivant in the snow-flanked rivers of southwest Germany.
Nina was selective about what she shared about her past excursions, but since they were comparing romantic conquests and relationships she had no choice but to introduce Dave Purdue and Sam Cleave.
“Oh, I know them,” Gretchen smiled, and then laughed heartily at Nina’s perplexed frown. “Not like that, silly! It’s not my fault you surround yourself with celebrities.”
Nina realized that both her former lovers were in fact famous in certain circles. Of course, Gretchen being an academic she would have heard of Dave Purdue, the playboy billionaire inventor and explorer who launched many expeditions to find legendary locations that were considered myths.
And naturally, a wider spectrum of people knew Sam Cleave, the Pulitzer-winning investigative journalist who lost his fiancée to a well-placed bullet when the two of them exposed a dangerous international arms ring that Nina’s own fiancé at the time was involved in.
“But now you are alone?” Gretchen asked, once they both sat down in the rowdy pub for some dinner and drinks.
“Blissfully,” Nina said indifferently, looking around the establishment, driven by that same habit of surveying her environment.
“How so? We all want to be with someone,” Gretchen said sincerely, reading through the menu. Nina noticed that she had aged quite a bit, but still retained her soft features. Her slightly kinky hair flopped over her shoulders and in the yellow light from the ceiling it went from gold to its natural reddish copper color. She still had that mousy face, pointy chin, and those freckles that she so carefully concealed with plastered base that just made her look plastic.
But Nina could never tell her that she looked painted, even though Gretchen was perfectly beautiful without any make-up. The lines on her face attested to a harsh emotional blow or two in her past, but her age did not show as unkindly as she might have thought.
“I thought I wanted to be with someone,” Nina admitted. “And at times I was greedy and wanted them both, but now that I am not that emotionally dependent, now that I am exhausted by the dangers of what we do, I just want to be alone for a while.”
“Geez, what did they do to you? I mean, Nina Gould was never Miss Romantic or anything, but you seem downright cynical now,” her friend observed honestly.
Nina smiled warmly. It was so good to have female company again, something she never thought she would crave, and Gretchen was the best kind of female. She was dead honest without being insulting or judgmental and she was a truly wise old soul who always applied her knowledge to her emotions to get an even result to act from.
“I’ll thaw again,” Nina winked, “just not soon. I bought a house in Oban!”
Gretchen was surprised at the sudden jump in subject and mood, but the news was very interesting and uplifting so she entertained it instantly.
“No way! In your old stomping grounds!” she exclaimed excitedly. When the two women were roommates she always wanted to see Nina’s hometown. From the pictures on her walls it looked like postcard-picture perfection, Gretchen recalled.
“Aye,” Nina nodded.
“When are you moving in?” she asked with a beaming grin as she received her steak dinner from the waiter.
“Next week,” Nina answered. “I just have to go and sign the transfer papers at the agency office.”
“Is it a cottage on the shoreline? You know, I’ve heard some fishermen in small towns are quite fetching,” Gretchen jested.
“Nope. It’s in a normal street with other normal houses, but it is an older home. Apparently it is much older than the others in the neighborhood. But that is what I want, Gretch. I want to… ” Nina sighed at her own absurdity, “go back in time. I want to hide in a space that comes from the old times. Being a historian, loving the past, I feel it to be an honor to live in a structure that lived then, that saw the events I can only read about and study in books. Imagine being in the same space as… as… Julius Caesar, as Attila the Hun, to walk where Christ walked. That is why I wanted this house.”
“Is it that old?” Gretchen frowned. She seemed intrigued and abandoned her food to Nina’s words.