Comatose

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Comatose Page 45

by Graham Saunders


  ~o~

  Alexander found his father-in-law already seated as he entered The Connaught. He walked over and took Frank's offered hand. Although things between them had improved greatly, there was still a frisson that sparked and bristled. Although forgiven, the harm done to Alexander could not be so easily forgotten. Alexander bore no grudges but it was a matter of undisputed fact that Alexander had been treated appallingly by his in-laws.

  The meal was accompanied by the usual small talk. Alexander broached the question of Alice's health again.

  "It's good of you to ask... Alice is in a private sanatorium and getting the best care that she could hope for. At the moment she spends much of her time under sedation, but the doctors tell me they are hopeful of a full recovery, but it takes time Alexander." There was a sadness in Frank's eyes.

  "I genuinely hope that she does recover fully Frank, I know that her illness has been a burden for you."

  They continued with the lunch and Frank appeared in no hurry to reveal the true reason for the meeting. As he topped up their glasses with the remains of an interesting Saint-Émilion, Alexander thought that it was time to get to the point.

  "Well that was an enjoyable lunch Frank, thank you, but I think it's time for you to reveal the purpose of the meeting."

  "Indeed so Alexander, as you may be aware, the company has an affiliation with Crossfields. They have been looking for someone with your sort of experience to head up a project. I find myself in a position to be able to recommend someone for the job. If I did put your name forward they would almost certainly accept my recommendation, in other words the job would be yours for the taking. Alexander, the contract would be for five years and the salary on offer is, quite frankly, eye wateringly high."

  "Crossfields... aren't they headquartered in New York?"

  "Ah, you have put your finger on the salient point. It would require that you move to that illustrious city, but the rewards would be enormous. I don't wish to open old wounds Alexander but... as I understand it; you don't have any pressing ties that would prevent you from moving overseas."

  "No, I'm fully aware of that." Alexander said, fighting away a frown. Frank pulled a thick folder from his document case.

  "The details of the company and what your position would involve, together with an indication of the remuneration package are all in here. Why not read through the offer, spend a day or two mulling it over and then get back to me at your leisure. In fact there is no urgency; the position will not open up before the late autumn."

  "The position is within my capability Frank? I'm not looking for charity, nor for the opportunity to make a fool of myself."

  "You need have no fears about, the fact is you are ideally qualified for the post. Despite the difficult patch we went through, I have always held your commercial abilities in the highest esteem." Alexander nodded at the complement.

  "Well this is all rather unexpected, and I have to say it's come at a rather opportune moment. As you are probably aware I am currently looking for a position. Thank you Frank, I will certainly look seriously at the proposal. The fact is I have recently come to the conclusion that the writing career I've been trying to develop, may have somewhat foundered on the rocks."

  "If you don't mind me saying, I think you would be wise to let that dream fade away. From what I can see, that career path is a road that leads to penury for most."

  Alexander took a taxi back to his flat, he got the driver to drop him off a twenty minute walk from his door. With his jacket slung across his shoulder, he marched homeward under a bright sky with white puffs of cloud that had begun to inch their way across from the east. He strolled past the crouching houses, and the busy people, hurrying endlessly, to and fro. In his hand was clutched details of the job offer, he would read it all with care but it was almost certain that he would accept the offer. That certainty gave him confidence... confidence to get on with his life again. The sabbatical, the attempt to write a novel had probably been a mistake. He could see that now as he climbed up to his flat. He pulled a cold drink from the fridge, his thirst raw from the brisk walk and the wine at lunch. Now that it mattered less he felt he could at last face the last rejection letter and wandered to his office.

  He tore open the envelope and wondered if it would be a gentle let down or a more prosaic, straight to the point, rejection. It started: We do not normally accept unsolicited manuscripts... Ah a gentle let down he thought. But then as his eyes scanned the page he saw the word 'Congratulations'. It seemed to jump of the page and make a mockery of his lack of confidence. The kiss of the Moon had been accepted for publication it said in black and white. Alexander felt, even now, a flush of pride but without being able to share the satisfaction with Emily, it was tinged with sadness. He thought again of his lost muse and all she had contributed to the book. He knew all too well where Emily could be found, the temptation to trace her was strong but the inevitable lack of recognition would be to hard to take for a second time. Alexander still assumed that she would not remember her part in the book's creation, not remember him, probably take him for a madman. He remembered the look she had given him as she woke in the hospital. The total lack of recognition was like the stab of a sword though his chest.

  It was also an undeniable fact, that Emily had made no effort to trace him over the last months – a fact he took to confirm that her memory of the winter was gone forever. Maybe he would send her a copy of the book anonymously once it had been printed. Alexander wondered if reading it would spark any memories for her, he hoped so. As he held the letter, he wished that one day Emily might come to remember their time together despite its bizarre nature. There were times when he wondered if the events, as he remembered them, were just a dream after all and it was his memory that was faulty. Could it really have ever happened? Could a young woman caught somewhere between life and death possibly have come to him and captured his heart. It seemed so improbable yet so indisputable.

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