HE WAS BRIGHTER THAN THE LOUDEST STARS
Miss, are you sure about this? a male voice, pleading, crackled through the receiver.
Fine, lets give it a go, I said, with a hint of condescension.
I was twenty, studying at the University of Manchester and hunting for a parttime job. In the*Manchester Evening News* I spotted an advert: Blind university lecturer seeks a helper My heart went out to that unseen man, and I dialed straight away.
The next morning I stood before his flat, ringed the bell with trembling hands. The door swung open, revealing a man who seemed to have stepped out of a dream.
Come in, miss. What should I call you? the blind man prompted.
Eleanor, I stammered, cheeks flushing.
Mr. David Goodwin, he replied.
Mr. Goodwin, Im in desperate need of your assistance, Eleanor. Your perfume its intoxicating. He explained that he taught history at a university and wanted me to read his lecture notes aloud each evening, so he could commit them to memory. Three lessons a week. Deal, Eleanor? he asked, his voice steady.
I took in the flat: spotless, sparsely furnished, no superfluous clutter. David was no older than forty, impeccably dressed, impossibly charismatic.
Lets get to work, Mr. Goodwin, I said, eager to dive in.
September blurred into February, then May. The university broke for holidays and David released me until the following September. I slipped away to the Cornish coast, the sea air washing away thoughts of my blind benefactor. Within a week Id forgotten him entirely, falling for a handsome young solicitor and planning our wedding.
In late August Davids voice rang through the phone again:
Eleanor, come tomorrow.
I cant, I replied brightly. Im getting married, preparing for the wedding.
Married? Already? Youve rushed this, he sighed, disappointment tinting his tone. Please, Eleanor, do come.
Ill try, I muttered, reluctantly.
The next day, the sweltering August heat bearing down, David greeted me in the hallway.
Your fragrance drives me mad, Eleanor. Come in.
My fiancé loves that scent too, I whispered, oddly defensive.
Lets finish the academic year together, Eleanor. I cant manage without you. His plea was almost pitiful.
Very well, lets begin, I said briskly.
The more time I spent with David, the less I wanted the wedding. I withdrew my notice from the registry office, telling my fiancé I was stepping back. After all, a bride can change her mind, cant she?
Soon David and I dropped the formalities. While I read his notes, hed gently clasp my hand, his unseen eyes scanning the room as he inhaled the heady perfume clinging to my skin. The intimacy settled over us like a warm blanket.
One icy night I arrived shivering, pleading for hot tea. David guided me to his armchair, draped a knitted throw over my feet.
Sit, Eleanor, Ill be right back.
He disappeared into the kitchen, returned with a tray: orange segments and a small glass of brandy.
Drink, and the chill will melt away.
I sipped slowly, eyes fixed on him, a sudden urge to hold him tightly, to protect him. As the brandy warmed me, he leaned in, kissed me fiercely, and wrapped his arms around me.
Stay with me, Eleanor. Ill give you the world.
Im not laughing, David. Youre so tender My head spins, I whispered, feeling a sudden flush.
He brushed his fingers along my cheek, murmuring, The blind hear everything, the deaf see everything.
The next morning Mrs. Goodwin, Davids mother, shuffled in as she always didher hair in a bun, a kettle whistling. She didnt look surprised to find me in bed.
Morning, love, David chirped. Eleanor and I are still sprawled out.
Carry on, dears. Ill get you breakfast, she said, smiling as she busied herself in the kitchen.
Later, as we sipped coffee and nibbled toast, I asked, David, have you ever felt like you were reaching for the sky?
Im scared Ill grow accustomed to you, he confessed. Its painful, love, knowing Im not yours.
Mrs. Goodwin called out, Breakfast is ready, children!
David rose, heading to his favorite armchair, and paused at the door.
Eleanor, I have a lecture to prepare for. Ill see you tonight.
She closed the door gently and turned to me, her voice low:
Eleanor, my son truly loves you. Youve brought light into his life. I cant have him suffer later. As they say, you dont marry a blind man for the carriage. Please, dont break his heart. You have a sighted life ahead. Every blind man believes hell suddenly see. My David is already ruined. Do not add to my grief. Leave, and Ill think of something to keep him steady.
I stood stunned, torn. I knew Davids affection was fleeting; hed never ask me to marry him. Yet I couldnt simply abandon him, not after my heart had tangled with his.
So I visited only when his mother was away, avoiding the awkward eyes and the guilt.
A year passed; our bond grew stronger, an unbreakable thread. He gave me his light. I told everyone I was planning to marry the blind man. Then one day I knocked, and he said,
Eleanor, were done. I set you free. Go.
My world shattered. Tears spilled, hysteria surged, the emptiness was unbearable. David never saw, never heard the horror of my collapse.
I married twice after thatonce for passion, once for love, each a different storm. None ever matched the intensity David had given me.
