Beth and I had been seeing each other for several weeks now. We kept our relationship an entirely private matter, making sure none of the teachers and students found out; it was her decision as much as it was mine.
Because of Daniel, she would normally come to our flat; we couldn't go out that often, not alone anyway, and she hadn't invited me back to hers since the night of Parents' Evening.
We were at the stage where we could and would kiss quite naturally now; the third or fourth time she'd been over, we'd been on the sofa kissing, a film playing in the background and her hand had glided up my thigh. That was the furthest we had gone physically, and I was starting to feel the unwelcome expectant pressure that I used to experience on Friday nights, when Dovid would come into the bedroom and I would be on the bed, laying in wait.
Though that was unfair, because Beth wasn't pressuring me, it was all in my own head. I wanted to appear normal, I wanted to pretend I could have a normal relationship and normal meant having regular, consensual sex. To add to the normality, I was also training myself to stop thinking of Ronit when I kissed Beth. It was difficult, but it was getting easier. I said Beth's name more, consciously and obviously, when her mouth was on my neck, when I stroked her hair or in between kisses.
Beth left in the evenings each time she visited, though on every occasion she lingered by the door awaiting an invitation to stay. I hadn't offered yet.
It changed one Friday after school; Beth had snuck into my classroom and kissed the top of my head.
'Beth.' I reprimanded her, staring at the glass panel of the door.
'No one saw me, don't worry.' She giggled and touched my arm.
She asked me what I had planned that evening, which was usually an excuse for her to suggest a plan for the both of us.
'I thought we could carry on through the Hepburn collection?' She said, sitting on the desk I had been writing on. 'I can bring Breakfast at Tiffany's.'
'That sounds good.'
'I can bring dinner too.'
'Oh, you don't have to.' Though I hoped she'd force the point.
'I'd really like to.'
And that was that. She came over that evening, laden with a paper bag filled with fresh ingredients and the DVD. She made a fresh pasta dish that I still think about to this day; she was a fantastic cook. She'd completed two years of culinary school before quitting to become a teacher. I remember Daniel always ate all of the food she made. The way she interacted with him was one of her most redeeming qualities; she didn't really know how to talk with him, but as she spent more time with him, I saw her gain confidence.
I'd just put him to bed and returned to the living room when I saw Beth had already started the film.
'The opening credits are my favourite bit.' Beth said lounging back on the sofa, but I barely heard her; I was too busy gaping at the television.
'Where is this film set?' I asked, already knowing the answer.
'New York.' She laughed. 'You must know that.'
'I think I must have.' I watched the grainy footage of Audrey Hepburn wandering the streets, I studied the skyline behind her and followed the yellow taxis with a surge of emotion in my heart. It didn't go away for the whole film; if anything, it intensified. I spent the entire time focusing on the background, the setting and not investing in the story at all. Occasionally my ears would prick when one of the characters said 'New York'.
At one point, Audrey Hepburn said, 'Oh, I love New York.' The man she was with replied, 'Then why are you leaving?' I sniffed away an odd trickle of sadness.
