When Tuesday came, I left the address with my colleague in case I went missing. I felt a bit uneasy about the whole thing. Famous though he was, he was still a stranger.

I drove up to the Neverland gate, drove all the way up to it so the nose of the car almost touched the brown wood, making clear that I had all intentions to pass through. As I got out I could see the gate keeper leaving the guard house.

"Good afternoon, sir," I said politely. Then I gave my name, extending my Consulate's ID card through the gate. "I'm expected." That sounded good, a lot better than I actually felt. No need to be confident as long as you can pretend to be.

"I know, ma'am. Good afternoon. I won't need that." The last part was directed at my ID.

I shrugged my shoulders, "As you please," and withdrew my arm.

"I'll open the gate for you. Be careful, please. I've been told you have never been here before? Just follow the road over the hill ahead, then you'll be able to look down into the valley. Keep following the road. There will be a fork. Just keep to your left and stay on the main road. There's going to be green grass and trees and a lake and a second gate. The valet will tell you were to go from there. I'll call and say you are on your way. You think, you'll be alright, ma'am?" He smiled friendly.

I nodded. "Thank you."

"Have a nice day, ma'am,"

It wasn't half as difficult as it had sounded. Once I was over the hill, I could indeed see the valley and the main house among the trees lying below me. I followed the paved way. The tall, iron gate stood open when I got there, a man waiting politely by its side. I cranked down the window.

"Good afternoon, ma'am. Welcome to Neverland. Please go ahead and follow the road's right turn over there. You will see a building on your left with a huge clock in front of it. That's the station. And opposite the station to your left you will find the entrance to the front yard of the main house. Drive onto the yard and just park your car anywhere you like."

"Yes, sir, thank you."

I cranked the window closed again and drove ahead, crossing some small railway tracks that ran right behind the gate.

I drew into the yard and parked my car politely opposite what I expected to be the entrance to the house, wondering for a moment if I was to knock or look for a bell somewhere. But when I was getting out, I noticed a figure moving in the shadow of the entrance and Michael coming towards me. In the corner of my eye I saw him run his hands over his head as if smoothing his hair as he stepped out into the sunlight. He was dressed simple but proper; black pants and a crisp, ironed, white buttoned up shirt orderly tucked into the waistband. In the sunlight, the t-shirt he wore underneath could be seen through the fabric, hugging his lean body. His hair was tied back in a ponytail by the nape of his neck. He wore no sun glasses. The curls of his perm were fairly voluminous around his head, but it looked as if he'd made an effort to restrain them. He walked across the yard to the passenger side of my car.

"Hello," he said politely across the top. "Good afternoon!"

"Good afternoon. Thank you for the invitation."

"Thank you for coming. I thought maybe you wouldn't."

I had had my head in my car picking up my purse. Now I emerged surprised from under my roof. "You thought I'd stand you up?"

"No, maybe not that. But I thought you would maybe decline the invitation in the first place. I mean, that you wouldn't come to the house of a stranger." His hands were stroking the car roof. "That you would think it strange."

For a moment I looked at him.

"Well," I finally said, "it is a bit strange. But I didn't think you were a dangerous person. Apart from that, I'm sure I could handle you if need be." I looked at him straight, eyes wide and honest, face plain. That was the truth. He held my gaze for a moment, then looked back down at his hands on the top of the car and smiled. "I'll remember that," he said in a low voice.

I laughed and raised an eyebrow at him. "Did you ever have doubts?"

He looked up again. All joking had disappeared from his face. "Not for one moment," he said, and I was certain that that was the truth, too.

"Well," I locked my car, put the keys in my purse and flashed him a bright smile, "so now that battle lines are drawn, what is the plan for the rest of the evening?"

He returned the smile, and then squinted at the sun. "How about we get something cool and refreshing to drink against the heat, and then take a little walk around before dinner? I know it's a long drive all the way up from LA, you must be thirsty. After dinner the sun will have set and some things are more beautiful to look at in daylight."

We hadn't walked half way back to the house before I noticed that he was wearing make-up.

At the counter to the kitchen we both received a large glass of freshly made lemonade. The presentation of it alone would have won me over. Lime and lemon slices between ice cubes swimming in the hazy liquid in an iced long drink glass. No doubt, this had style. It tasted good, too. Maybe it was a bit sweeter than I would have needed, but it was refreshing and thirst quenching. Glasses in hand we passed through a double wing door out to the back of the house and strolled among the trees into the garden.

"You said you're a lawyer." Conversation is like chess, and this was his opening.

"A Junior Lawyer, yes."

"What does that mean?"

I explained it to him. "I guess you could say I'm an apprentice of law," I finished.

"So would you like to be a judge?"

"Not a judge, really, but an attorney or maybe a prosecutor. I like being in court."

"Really? Like, speaking in court?"

I nodded.

"I couldn't do that."

"You couldn't do what?"

"Be an attorney. Speak in court like they do. I couldn't do that."

"I couldn't do your job, either!" I said making big eyes at him, and when he blinked surprised I shrugged my shoulders. "Everything has to be learned. The first time is really terrible, but you get used to it surprisingly fast. And you don't go unprepared, either. You consider where things could be heading beforehand. Speaking in itself isn't the difficult part. It's when things take a totally different turn than you have planned, and you have to make up for it as you're standing there, that it gets difficult."

"Things not going as planned and you having to make up for it as you're standing there, is a feeling I can relate to!"

"Do things sometimes not go as planned with what you do?"

"When it's a live performance, yes, all the time. Somebody is not where they're supposed to be, I can't hear what I need to hear, some effects not working, lights not working, mic not working... Playing live is always an adventure." He chuckled. "We rehearse to have the routine necessary to make up for the things that will not go as we rehearsed them!"

Heading for a walk around the big lake, we first turned north and passed by the swimming pool. In the heat of the day, I gave it a somewhat longing look.

"You know, people get pushed into that pool a lot..." Michael said noticing my gaze.

I smiled politely. "Maybe some other time."

He said nothing more, but his expression didn't change.

"If you push me in the pool before dinner, you'll eat alone. And I'm dead serious!"

"I would never do that!" He raised his hands in defence.

"I don't believe a word you say."

"I'm a gentleman." But there was a sparkle in his eyes.

"I think you're a rascal," I retorted dryly.

"But I'm trying hard, you know."

His sudden change took me by surprise. He was turned to me slightly; the white shirt front of his chest was like an unprotected aim. It was the way he carried himself that for a moment knocked the breath out of me.

"And you're doing well," I said in a low voice. Then I took him by the elbow with both hands, the condensation from my cold glass of lemonade wetting his sleeve. "Let's just walk away from that pool, hm? Take me somewhere else," and I tried to gently push him in an attempt to lead him away. He let his arm and shoulder give way, let me come in much closer than I had intended, before he broke into a bright smile and allowed me to move him. For a moment he seemed to have no intentions to restore the personal space that I had invaded. He made tiny, static steps sideways, every other one consisting of nothing more than pulling his right foot up to his left.

"You know," I said intimately, still close to him, "I really don't want to fall in the pool."

"Then I won't push you in." He was looking at me over his arm that I was pushing into him. And then, with one smooth, soft movement, he put his right foot across his left and stepped free of me.

"I'm sorry about your shirt," I said, suddenly noticing that it was sticking wetly to his forearm.

He looked down as if only noticing it now. "It's nothing! In this weather it'll be dry before we've reached... that tree over there."

~~~~~

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