The Cate Blanchett Case {Cate Blanchett}

14~The Normal Folk

The diner was great, a little building tucked between a hair salon and a butcher. It was exactly what I imagined Cate sitting in on some days, it was refined and casual all at the same time.

There were black booths that lined the right side of the building and in the middle were little two-people tables, covered in dark gray tablecloths.

When I walked in through the door Cate was holding open for me I was hit with the strong smell of jasmine and something spicy.

Whatever it was I quickly became obsessed with the smell and found myself inhaling oftenly. The whole diner had a comfortable atmosphere, a peaceful one, there were distant clinks of glasses and plates and the dull sizzling of frying pans.

It was slowly becoming my favourite place. Yes, I'd been in extravagant places before, it's what happened when you had a snooty mother, but those places always seemed uptight. I couldn't breathe in those places, here, with Cate, it was like relaxing for the first time in a while.

It was then I realised how pent up I'd been about my story. I hadn't really thought of anything else and it was all made worse when my mother decided to visit me and dump another ridiculous formal dinner on me.

This place relaxed me and I couldn't help letting out a relaxed sigh.

"What is this place called?" I asked, Cate, looking at her for the first time since I'd walked in here. I was surprised to see her looking at me with fond eyes, as if I was an old friend. I looked away almost immediately, her gaze making my heart beat strangely.

"The Obsidian Plate, but Andr-" Cate stopped suddenly and looked around the place, a pained look on her face.

She stood to the right me, her hand fidgeting in the pocket of her beige jacket, maybe feeling for the wedding ring that wasn't there.

Her eyes were distant once again and her lip was trapped between her perfect teeth. Just as I was about to tap her she blinked and it was like she snapped out of a trance, pride flared in my chest. She'd listened to what I'd said about this whole thing, she was trying to move on.

"Andrew and I like to call it the OP," she shrugged nonchalantly, as if the information didn't have much worth to it. I couldn't help but smile proudly at her, I saw her look at me in the corner of her eye and a little smile graced her face.

Before anything else happened a server approached us and got us seated, Cate specifically asked for the booth over in the far corner. The one that was situated so you couldn't see who exactly was sat in the booth.

It was lit dimly by a singular candle, even though it was bright outside the whole room felt like we were going out for the evening. I'd definitely have to come back here at some point.

The table was extremely cool, it was black and had a dull tone purple, like obsidian. I was almost 100% sure that the colours swirled in the table, like marble.

"Do you like it here? We can leave if you'd like?" Cate asked me, she sat opposite me and since we'd sat down she hadn't stopped looking at me. Probably waiting for me to give my opinion on what seemed to be a place she liked to dine in.

"Like it? I love it!" I told her happily, "it's like a cross between elegance and casual dining," I supplied and watched her face light up as if she had just made a life changing discovery.

"That's exactly what I describe it as!" She grinned, her eyes glinting in the candlelight. The candlelight which illuminated all of her features, she was like a Greek statue, something mesmerising even when broken.

My heart did that weird flutter thing again, it sent a wave of shock throughout my whole body. My hands tingled with an unknown feeling while my heart seemed to thump in my chest. What on earth was happening? Whatever it was I did not like it at all. It reminded me of something distant, long, dark red hair.

Clearing my throat, desperately trying to clear that horrible feeling from my chest, I smiled kindly at Cate. "You clearly have great taste in restaurants, I can't say my mother would share our sentiments," the last part had slipped out before I could even think about it, words slipping out were starting to become a big problem for me lately.

Normally, I had full control of myself and always thought out my words. For some reason, with Cate, I felt unleashed and wild, as if any errant thought could escape my mouth.

"How come?" Cate asked, her brows furrowing in curiosity. Curiosity about my life, personal information I hadn't wanted to disclose ever.

This was not the plan.

However, those wild and unleashed words seemed to be fully in control today and I spoke before I could even stop.

Resting my hands on top of each other on the table I shrugged slightly, "she prefers those uptight, snooty restaurants. The ones where if you aren't draped in diamonds and pearls you are seen as filthy or improper," I told her, "the ones where there's a literal £100 fee just to get into the restaurant in the first place," I chuckled sardonically.

Cate laughed softly but then frowned slightly, this time not in confusion. "Do you have a good relationship with your mother?" She asked me, resting her chin in her hand and giving me my full attention.

It's funny how the interviewer became the interviewee.

I fidgeted slightly with my nails, a nervous habit I'd picked up a while ago, strangely, it had only just resurfaced.

"No," I sighed, the strained relationship with my mother and my non-existent one with my father resulted in a more than dysfunctional family and a dysfunctional life. "No, not exactly," I said quietly and looked down at the table, thinking back to the lunch I'd been to with my mother yesterday.

Bringing up my mother hadn't been a good idea, it hurt my heart to think of her. It hurt my everything to talk about her to someone else. Because it meant that it wasn't just me who saw how shitty she was.

"We argue a lot and have conflicting views on a lot of things," I said, hoping Cate would just leave it and she did just that but not before sliding her free hand over my own.

Her touch shocked the shit out of me, human contact and little shows of affection never really say well with me. I just didn't understand them and normally felt nothing when hugged or touched. So you could imagine my surprise when my heart leapt like a spring at the feel of Cate's soft hands caressing my own.

It was how you'd imagine clouds felt, if your imagination hadn't been destroyed by the time you turned 6. Thanks mother.

Soft, gentle and warm. Like candyfloss, without the stickiness.

I watched with wide eyes as her thumb ran over the back of my right hand, applying the slightest pressure. Suddenly, that pain I'd felt of talking about my mother disappeared, like Cate had magically made it evaporate into thin air.

All the major and minor worries I'd come up with and all the arguments I relived withered away. Like they were meaningless.

My brain tried to make excuses, Cate was just trying to comfort me like I had her, Cate was just doing what any other person would do.

But then there was that tiny little problem. My heart. Which told me whatever was going on, it liked it, whatever was happening was because Cate had some sort of deep affection towards me, and I her.

A deep affection I'd never experienced before. At first the thought of it was ridiculous, how could I have built such an affection towards Cate in the space of merely a few days.

I didn't do affection, I didn't do feelings and romance.

So why was it that when Cate slid her hand off mine that I wanted her to touch me again? Why was it that when I thought about Cate never touching me again did I want to curl up in a ball and cry for eternity?

Shit, is this really what normal folk did?