Beyond the end

Clare

Life in London had been running placidly for three months on that side. The climate was quite similar to the Parisian one, with rainy days accompanying everyday life, and the sun that when it came out warmed the skin and soul. She had taken an apartment in the countryside around Greenwich, so with a few bike rides she could reach the astronomical observatory. Sometimes mornings soup came because the English drizzle turned into a storm without warning: she loved the sparkling air in the morning touching her face on her way to work. It made her feel alive, energetic. Moving from France had not been easy; she had greeted her father with the promise to see him at least once a month; after all, it was quite simple to cross the channel. In reality, more than the complexity of the displacement, it had been the frenzy of the work that had absorbed her making her disregard that unwritten pact. She had followed Rector Arnold beyond the Ocean, leaving her life and her friends to be close to the only family she had ever had, and now she still found herself far away from him. Of course, the Atlantic did not separate them, but they were still in two different states, but on the same continent. But she was happy like that. SHe didn't regret the choices she made. The move to Paris; the three-year assignment in London, in one of the most prestigious laboratory in the world. Clare had always been sure of herself and her decisions, which she had brought all the way even when these had involved renunciations and sorrows. SHe had truncated the most important relationship she had ever had to pursue her life; every now and then she thought about Steve, especially when she went all the way to Brighton. She didn't know why that place reminded her of him, perhaps because it was definitely a place that made her happy, just as that big boy was capable of doing. And she wondered what it would be like if only ... but there was no answer, nor would there ever be.
She was sitting on the train that would take her to the City. She was wrapped in a blue dress, with the inevitable dark raincoat. Between her fingers she held the ticket to a show in Leicester Square, titled "Beverly Hills," a musical directed by Brenda Walsh. Brenda, a well-known name to Clare, even if the face was less so, except for the hundreds of photographs that depicted her, seen when she lived in LA, in the long parenthesis spent in the beach house. She was undeniable, she missed that piece of her life. Kelly, Donna, David, even Valerie, who put some pepper in their lives. And then Steve. SHe had also told him to follow her to Paris. He declined. Pride was another of the characteristics that marked the young Arnold. She had seen the poster of the musical in a Village bistrot and something had pushed her to buy the ticket. She was alone, she wanted to make this trip into her past completely alone. After all, the synopsis she had read seemed very familiar to her; places and characters were known to her. She was almost certain that tale had been written by Brandon's sister with clear biographical inspiration. And she wanted to see some of her memories staged. SHe felt she could not miss the premiere of the kermesse; she would probably show up, at the end of the show, to the director. She had more in common with her, a perfect stranger, than with the dozens of colleagues with whom she shared the job.
The train arrived on time at Kings Cross, she took a taxi and headed directly to the theater; she didn't like to arrive late, she preferred to wait at the spot, regardless of what the appointment was. SHe came among and sat down in the audience. She took a Steven King book, "Shado Zone," out of her bag, and began reading to deceive the wait. The theater began to crowd; the audience was quite young and noisy, as you might expect from a musical. But among the noisiest was a small group behind her, to which she had given no attention, until she had grasped a clear American accent, and a timbre of voice that seemed familiar to her. SHe turned to better understand who or what they were. And it was at that moment that she had a plunge in her heart, seeing faces she hadn't seen in years and that she never thought he would meet all together in Europe. Jim Walsh was the noisiest of all, excited about his daughter's piece; he was looking for a shore in his wife, who instead alternated silence with hysterical giggles. Brandon was more composed, definitely smiling. Always fascinating. For her it was a love at first sight by his reluctance. He looked happy he was smiling, she turned around and a little further back she saw Kelly coming in: maybe the two had gotten married, Clare had thought. She had seen them last time just before the graduation party. Some news here and there. SHe had lost track of it, as far as he knew they were together ever since. Among them was a very lovely child, probably the son. Yes, they had certainly married or in any case they had set up a family. The quartet, which with the baby formed a beautiful picture of happy family, had come to see Brenda's show; they had taken on that long journey to see the premiere. A feeling that made her feel good, at peace with herself. SHe picked up the bag and stood up to reach them and greet them. She stood still, with her bag in her hand, when she noticed that just outside the line, motionless staring at her, there was Steve with the program in his hand. As soon as she realized she had been noticed, the boy smiled, sincerely happy to see her; she did the same and without thinking about it, went out and headed towards him, who followed the steps approaching with his gaze, thinking that sometimes life puts you to the test; but for sure, life has more imagination than it may seem.
3 Hours Later...
"Please,bring a bottle of Pol Roger!"
"Steve, it's the third," Brandon said to him.
"So what? We have several things to celebrate!"
He raised his voice by turning to the whole table.
"Don't worry Brandon, the business owner here will make money with this show, I'll pay," said Dylan, who had followed his friend's lips. "You're always the usual," a radiant Brenda apostilled him. Her musical had been a great success, the audience had dedicated 10 minutes of applause to her, as well as a standing ovation when she had gone out on stage to thank. And she hadn't been able to hold back her tears, just as Cindy couldn't stop crying, squeezed by an equally moved Jim. Brenda was finally realized. She remembered the admired and proud look with which her parents watched her brother shake hands with President Clinton, on TV; and now, that same look, they dedicated it to her. He had seen them in the crowd applauding and that's when she started crying. Brandon was taken by enthusiasm in beating his hands, Kelly was happy to see the two brothers so happy; little Sammy was amused and tried to articulate approval whistles by putting two fingers in his mouth, from which only a few clumsy spit came out. And Steve... Brenda tried to focus him, he was talking to a girl she couldn't frame. After the show they had decided to go and celebrate with Alain Ducasse, a London star who for JT, even at the last second, would find a fairly large table for the whole group. A little expensive, but Dylan had insisted; and Jim, always very thrifty, had supported McKay this time. For the context, the group turned out to be quite noisy, but for the major gastronomic critic in London, the dining room service closed both eyes ... and if that was the case, the ears too. Clare, who had obviously joined the group, had sat next to Steve, who filled her with attention; and champagne "Sanders, do you want to take advantage of me?" she told him at one point, already quite high. The boy did not understand if it was a proposal or an accusation and remained vague.
"Only if you're nice to me."
Brenda turned to Dylan.
"Did you hear Xavier?"
"Yes, they already in Heatrow, doing the check in"
"What a pity they didn't come with us to the restaurant."
"c'on Brenda, do you figure out those guys sitting in this place? They are free spirits and honestly" Dylan said loosening the tie "it's not even for me; and then the tickets were already made, the plans already established: after the show they would go to the airport and sleep during the flight. Tomorrow morning they will be in Ecuador, at sunset. That is, for us it will be morning, for them the twilight."
"Okay ok, you're right. Anyway, it's all so wonderful, everything is as it should be." Brenda was looking around, JT talking to her brother, Kelly to her parents, Steve taken by that girl who in L.A. had crossed a couple of times, Clare. Brandon had still spoken to her about her several years earlier, painting her as a confident, brilliant girl who lived on the beach with the girls. And she had known she was in a relationship wish David, then Steve. She had heard that she had given up on Steve. And now here she is, she seemed very nice, well integrated with the rest of the group, although they hadn't seen each other in several years. He hypothesized to call her a few times after all they were both living in London."
The only one who seemed a little thoughtful was Kelly: she semestre upset for something, maybe the premiere. The love triangle had been one of the protagonists of the entire scene and Brenda's obviously never completely sunk grudges came out clearly. Obviously no real name had been made. The Kelly of the show was named Kimberly. But the story was quite unstoppable and saw, at a certain point, the protagonist leaving for a trip to Europe and the best friend blowing her boy without hesitation. And a series of details that referred to her, Brenda and Dylan. Watching the premiere Kel had tried to feel Brenda's pain, to understand that the verbalization is very important to overcome a trauma; and in that case it had been the writing first and the show to follow, which young Walsh had used to exorcise her demons. Exorcism that had taken place before they returned to Dylan, before the two girls had come closer together, before that happy new phase of their lives. Writing had preceded all this; because it hearted her. Thinking about this, she looked at Brenda, who noticed she was being watched, smiled at her and raised the glass in her direction. Kelly replied in the same way. Yes, they had managed to get through everything and become friends again. In a different way than they had been at sixteen, but they were adults. Their relationship would change in every way. Brandon kidnapped Kel from her thoughts by giving her a kiss on the cheek "Is everything okay?" He told her. She looked at him, peek in the direction of Sammy struggling with his steak and chips, Dylan helping him cut the meat, "Yes, it couldn't get any better" and cling to Brandon's arm.
At that point Clare got up, holding on her legs with great willpower "Guys, I should go, I have a train waiting for me to go back to Greenwich."
"I'll accompany you" Steve didn't miss the opportunity. "Be good, Casanova," said Dylan.
"Clare, if you want you can get a room in our hotel," Kelly suggestion.
"Really Kelly, I prefer to go, tomorrow morning I have to get to the observatory early and if I had to sleep in London I wouldn't be able to."
"She's right - he hurried to say Steve - we can't get Dr. Arnold to take a note of demerit"; Sanders had already put on his jacket and handed the handbag to the girl.
"Thank you Steve."
Clare seemed not to disdain the boy's offer to escort her to the train and the winks among other diners were clear.
"Thank you for the wonderful evening, I hope to see you soon." Clare said to all.
"Yeah, not so early anyway," Steve patted Brandon and with a sly smile followed the girl out of the restaurant.
"Your friend didn't waste time," JT remarked in disbelief.
"It's a long story," Kelly added, "and it's certainly not born tonight."
"Ah, ok."
"Maybe it's better for us to start too – Dylan whispered in Brenda's ear – our festivities certainly don't run out at the restaurant."
"Dyyylan," Brenda smiled amused.
"The bill please"JT thus put an end to the evening, aware that he was the only one at that table destined for a lonely night.
please rewiew