A Winter's Tale (The Shakespeare Sisters 2) - Page 95

‘The real focus of any documentary I make is the search for humanity. Not just in those who are affected, but by those who do the affecting, too. The one thing I’ve learned from my years in the medium is that criminals are humans, too. And they’re fascinating, because they started out the same as you and me. They were born as little screaming, eating, shitting humans, who like the rest of us at that point in their lives, didn’t understand right from wrong.’

His eyes scanned the crowd. Though Kitty couldn’t see them, she could picture them in her memories. Deep and warm as melted chocolate. The sort of eyes she could drown in.

‘It’s easy to paint anybody as purely evil, but it’s harder to look beyond that shell they’ve become to what made them that way. To say that maybe we, as a society, have a role to play in creating the beast that lives inside us all.’ He scanned the audience again. Was he looking for her? What was he doing here? Her whole body felt as though it was buzzing, a few seconds away from detonation. Her pen was shaking in her hand.

‘Anyway, enough of this talking. Let me show you a few clips to try and demonstrate what I’m trying to say.’ He turned to the big screen behind him, clicking the remote in his hand to start up the stream of vi

deo.

For the next twenty-five minutes, Adam showed them clip after clip, talking through the background to the story, and the interviewee, showing how he delved deeper into their psyche to try to find reasons for their actions. It was mesmerising watching him on screen, but not as mesmerising as it was having him so close to her. He was less than fifty feet away, so close she could almost smell his warm, pine scent. She could almost feel the way he used to touch her, his hands strong yet soft, his eyes warm as she responded to him.

But why was he here?

He had to know she would be at this lecture. He knew she was a film student at UCLA, after all, what were the chances that this was a coincidence? And yet he was talking in front of all these students as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Laid-back, sure of himself, and as confident as hell.

The complete opposite of the way Kitty felt. She was so confused – trying to classify the emotions as they rushed through her veins, and failing miserably. Did he still hate her? Had he travelled all this way to make her pay for what she’d done to him? He didn’t look angry though, he looked completely calm.

The minutes felt as though they stretched halfway into the next day, each second so thinly pulled it seemed to resonate throughout the room. Adam continued to talk, to point out the parts of his documentaries he was most proud of, and she couldn’t help but find herself entranced by him.

Not that she was the only one. The girl next to her was practically drooling. Damn her.

Finally they made it to the question and answer part of the lecture. By this point Kitty wasn’t sure if she was pleased it was almost over or not. Because what came next? Would he seek her out, ask to speak to her? Or – horror of horrors – would he leave without even acknowledging her existence?

A student in the front row asked the first question, nervously running his hands through his hair as he spoke into the microphone. ‘Ah, in your talk you said something about needing to understand the beast in all of us to make documentaries. What did you mean by that?’

Adam smiled, leaning into the lectern at the front of the podium. ‘I guess I meant that making documentaries has a lot in common with psychotherapy. And if you all stay in LA for much longer, you’ll probably all discover that.’

Cue the laughter.

‘For those of you lucky enough to avoid psychotherapy so far, I’ll try to explain it. A lot of therapy is about accepting the good and bad in all of us. In understanding that nobody is a hero or a villain, but a mixture of both. What rises to the surface at any given time can depend on a variety of things – the circumstances surrounding us, our upbringing, how we react to certain triggers and stimuli. When I make a documentary I don’t want you all to go away thinking what a bad man that guy was. I want you to go away wondering if you’d have done the same thing in his situation, if it’s possible that this person who has caused death and destruction isn’t that different to you and me.’

Finally his eyes stopped on her. She felt their warmth before she even caught his gaze, her cheeks pinking up at his scrutiny. She stared back at him, her face expressionless, waiting for him to respond.

But then somebody asked a question and the moment was broken. Adam answered them all easily, his smile casual as he talked about his experiences and the knowledge he’d gained from them. She could tell from the quiet appreciation of her fellow students that they were impressed by him.

God knew, she was, too. She’d been impressed enough when he’d been Adam, the bearded guy who lived in the cabin by the lake. But now he was Adam Klein, the award-winning documentary maker, he took her breath away.

After a few more minutes of questions, the lecture finally came to an end, and the room was filled with the sound of students standing and gathering their things, and the music of their conversation. Kitty stayed in her seat for a moment, watching as the others filed out down the stairs and to the exit. She wondered if she should join them, maybe hide in the crowd. Would he even be looking for her?

Closing her eyes for a moment, she took in a deep lungful of air, trying to steel herself for what happened next. Then she opened them and slid her pen and notepad into her bag, slinging it on her shoulder as she stood to join the end of the line.

The progress was slow, as people stopped to talk to Adam, causing a back-up in those trying to leave the theatre. Finally she made it to the bottom step, and she was less than ten feet away from him, though those ten feet were filled with students trying to catch a moment with him.

It took him a moment to notice her. He was talking to a blonde girl who kept flipping her hair over her shoulder in a way that made Kitty want to cut it all off.

But then he lifted his gaze to hers, and everybody around them was forgotten. The noise surrounding her was drowned out by the sound of her pulse, drumming in her ears. He stared at her without embarrassment, his gaze softening. Her lips parted so she could take in a breathful of air, and his eyes lowered to look at her mouth.

Was he remembering the way he’d kissed her? His lips soft yet demanding, his hand cupping the side of her face? She ached to feel him touching her again.

She only realised she’d stopped moving when somebody jostled into her from behind, trying to push their way past to the exit. The movement launched her forward, until she was closer still to Adam, the two of them only separated by a few stragglers now.

She glanced around her, wondering what she should do next. Wait until they’d all left? Or go quietly, in case he really didn’t want to see her again? But then he was walking towards her, and her feet were glued to the ground, impossible to move even if she wanted to. But she didn’t. The last thing she wanted to do was run away from him, not when he’d been on her mind every day since the moment she’d left Mountain’s Reach.

‘Hi.’ He stopped a few feet short of her, as if to give her space. A couple of students were staring at them with interest.

‘Hi.’ She attempted a smile. ‘You shaved off your beard.’ She had to clench her hands into fists to stop herself from reaching out and touching his cheek. She wondered how different it would feel, to have soft smooth skin brushing against her palm, rather than the rough hair she was so used to.

As if he could read her mind, he reached up to touch his own cheek. ‘Yeah, I figured it was time to cut the barriers away and face the real world.’

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