Page 44 of Reinventing Cato
“I don’t think that’s what we need to talk about.”
“I was a dick. So how did the interview go?”
Cato chuckled. “It was okay.”
“Only okay? They didn’t offer you the job there and then? Beg you to join them?”
“No.”
Something in thatnothat didn’t sound right but Vigge was distracted by another thought. If theydidstart a relationship, it might turn into a long distance one.An impossibly long distance one.So it might be a short relationship. Maybe that was a good thing. Except why didn’t he like the sound of that?
Cato took another drink then pushed the glass to Vigge. “Help yourself.”
“You were brilliant tonight.”
“Thank you. The orchestra were terrible. The slowpokes couldn’t keep up with me.” He grinned. “Did the music make you feel as if you were walking down an icy path?”
“And falling over.” Vigge took a deep breath.Talk to him.Pointless denying his attraction.Tell him.Words refused to come out of his mouth.
“I can wait,” Cato said. “As long as it’s worth waiting for. Try to nod.”
Vigge nodded.
“Right. I’m going to teach you sign language for critical moments. Right after I learn it.”
Vigge chuckled and the sound came out shaky.
Cato stared straight at him. “Something amazing happened in this pub in February 1953. In the second room we walked through, Francis Crick declared that he and James Watson had discovered the structure of DNA. He said they’d foundthe secret of life.”
Vigge met Cato’s gaze and didn’t look away. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let you go. I should have gone after you. Ihavecome after you. I hope it’s not too late.”
“Hmm.” Cato tilted his head and looked up. Vigge sighed, glanced up and gasped. The mottled amber ceiling was covered with graffiti.
“Another wonder of this pub,” Cato said. “It was a regular haunt for RAF servicemen in World War Two. They used wax candles, petrol lighters and a girlfriend’s lipstick to put their names, squadron numbers and other doodles on the ceiling. It got discoloured by smoke from cigarettes and the open fire and eventually some guy cleaned it and revealed all this.” Cato looked back at Vigge. “I wonder how many of these men didn’t come back from a mission.”
“Too many. Is my mission going to end in success or failure? Do you forgive me?”
“As long as you’re going to talk to me.” Cato finished the last mouthful of beer and pushed to his feet. “Where’s your car?”
“Selwyn Road.”
“Come on then.” Cato stood up and slung his violin over his shoulder. “We’ll talk as we walk.”
Vigge rebuttoned his coat. As they made their way through the middle room, Vigge spotted the plaque about the scientists’ discovery.The secret of life.It seemed apt. A policeman and an astrophysicist went into a pub and…found each other. What would happen next?
It was cold outside and they both shivered in the icy wind.
“How did you get back?” Vigge asked.
“Hitched a lift with a guy the complete opposite of you. He couldn’t stop talking. He felt quite strongly about having his underwear ironed.”
“I…”
“Do not tell me you iron your underwear.” Cato gave him a look of horror. “Christ, you’ll be telling me you sleep in pyjamas next. And wear slippers. No, don’t break my heart.”
Vigge laughed.
“My driver felt even more strongly about what he called ‘homosexual shenanigans’ and I kept my mouth firmly shut. I deserve a sainthood.”
