Private Universe

The Water

Jack woke early the next morning. The sun was just barely up, but the household lagged well behind it. He could hear the stillness. Lie in bed, he wondered, read? Nah, didn't feel like either. Kata practice, this morning. He rose, dug in his suitcase until he found a football kit and plimsolls, then changed. Now, creep downstairs and get out on the grass.

He crunched across the gravel and walked on dew-damp grass. Warm-up exercises. He did leg-swings and kicks for a while, shadow-boxed until his heart rate was up and his body had warmed. Now, where to start? Itosu's five kata first, he thought. He loved their logic and the practice took him back to early days of study and analysis of the meanings of the moves. One time through slow. Savour the movement, check the stance, concentrate on the balance. Hhmm, that turn into zenkutsudachi was ragged. Repeat that. Get the feet better aligned, drop the stance lower. Snap the fist out straighter and aimed further down. When had he last done this? He'd grown so sloppy. Again, slowly. The turn was better balanced this time, smoother. Good. Now do it again. Up the power, but keep the speed the same.

He lost sense of time, his body falling back into habits of movement, his mind matching the kata with its use in defence. Visualise what the situation is. The attacker's going to try to do that and you do this, this and this. Act, don't react. Action always beats reaction. Don't wait for him to hit you; read the signs. You know what happens next; stop it. Pre-empt the attack if you can; disrupt it if you can't. Disturb his balance; attack a weak point. Drop him if possible. Escape. Don't stop to fight.  Move, move, movemovemove.

In a place without Turing, four people observing Jack stop, strip his heavy top off and wipe himself down with it might have been an unlikely co-incidence. In one with him… Jack dropped the top on the ground. Warmed up now, he wanted to flex more and started some kicking practice. Single kicks at first, then combinations, focusing on balance. Kicks weren’t usually practical in a fight, but he’d stopped one once by simply kicking the loud-mouthed leader of a gang of bullies in the head.

Hilary had woken because of Deirdre's elbow pushing against her nose. Deciding she'd not get to sleep again, she'd got up and looked out of the window. The view from the castle always impressed, but today drew her breath. Jack, in only a pair of football shorts, pirouetting like a dancer, kicking like a chorus girl.

‘Oooh,’ she breathed. Love at first sight is questionable, but desire is easy. The sight of Jack’s half naked body made her forget to breathe. Hil knew she had to meet him. ‘Dee, Dee, wake up, wake up! He's there on the grass. Come on, quick, quick!’

Deirdre woke up slowly and came to the window wiping sleep from her eyes. Bit odd, she thought, to be dancing on the grass early in the morning. But Hil had been impressed, which counted for something.

***

Charlotte woke at this time normally, but not usually to the sight of a half-stripped young man performing calisthenics on the grass below her window. Umm, she thought, definitely as well he and Deirdre weren't too close. At Dee's age, she'd not have been so dim around such a fine figure of young manhood. Father would have had to get the gamekeeper to set snares. She checked the clock. No, she thought, decently early still and he'd clearly started long enough before to have sweated into the football top. This hardly counted as exhibitionism. There'd only be Bridie and Abigail up at this time and they were on the other side of the house, so unlikely to see this.

***

Eleonora wanted to sketch, almost more than anything else, the body she saw. She'd not be able to get it out of her mind, so needed some way to deal with it. The discipline of sketching gave control. A little, at least.