Soul Survivor

by I Beacham

  “I guess this means you don’t want me to make mad passionate love to you tonight.”

  “I do, but I think I might fall asleep on you. I wish I’d slept on the flight.”

  “No matter, my love. We’ll have other opportunities.” Sam didn’t care; being with Joey was enough.

  “Hold me,” Joey said as she nestled closer into Sam. Sam obeyed.

  “I’ve missed you,” Joey mumbled, already half asleep.

  “And I you.” Sam kissed her forehead. “Never have two weeks gone so slowly. What were they like for you?”

  But she didn’t get a response. Joey was asleep.

  Sam smiled, closed her eyes, and drifted off holding her most treasured possession.

  *

  The weeks came and went. Their relationship grew stronger.

  It suddenly seemed the right time for Joey to see what Sam thought about her staying in England longer. She wanted to share and discuss with her the opportunity of new contracts with Stallion Productions. It would give them both a chance to talk about where they saw their relationship heading.

  Joey wanted to tell Sam in a special moment. She planned a dinner at her place and invited Sam one afternoon as they walked along the riverbank.

  “Wednesday evening, come to my place for dinner. I want to cook for you. I also want to tell you something.”

  “What?”

  “I’m not telling you till dinner.”

  “Not even a clue?”

  “No.” She loved Sam’s impatience.

  “It’s not bad news?” Sam had stopped walking.

  “No. I’m hoping you’ll like it.”

  “And you’re making me wait till Wednesday.”

  “I think it will be worth it.” Joey grinned.

  Sam’s eyes narrowed in fun. “Then I’ll just have to wait.”

  “You will.”

  Joey and Sam linked arms and continued walking.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Joey laid the crisp white cotton cloth onto the dining room table.

  She placed the cutlery out and polished the crystal glasses until they shone.

  Then she took the napkins and turned them into the shape of swans like she’d seen her mother do. It took her a few dying birds to get it right, but when she did, they looked resplendent as she placed them on the table.

  In the middle of the table, she positioned two silver candlesticks she’d borrowed from a neighbor and adorned them with red candles. In between, she put a small posy of roses in a bowl.

  Standing back, she mentally ran through everything. The wine was warming to room temperature. She had chosen the right background music to play, and had selected a decent range of liqueurs for aperitif and post dinner. The food was cooking. It was going to plan.

  She was going to tell Sam of her intention to accept the offer of a permanent contract with Stallion Productions. She hadn’t said anything to them yet because she wanted Sam to be part of the decision. This dinner would reveal if they wanted a life together.

  If we want a life together.

  The strangest feeling came over her.

  Joey started to tremble and sweat, her heartbeat increased. There was an edge of familiarity to it—that anxiety she’d felt out in war zones when her inner sense kicked in warning her of approaching danger. But there was no danger here. Her life wasn’t being threatened. She loved Sam, and she knew Sam loved her back. But the feeling persisted and with it, such self-destructive thoughts.

  You don’t deserve happiness.

  Why should you be happy when your friends are dead? Friends you killed.

  It was your fault.

  Now you’re going to ruin Sam’s life.

  If you love her, is that what you want?

  This is wrong. You won’t cope.

  People already think you’re crazy.

  They’re embarrassed by your behavior.

  You’re losing control.

  Run.

  Joey was terrified. The thoughts in her head were uncontrollable and irrational. She put her hands to her head.

  Stop.

  Where was all this self-destruction coming from? Why was she thinking like this? This wasn’t her.

  “Why am I trying to hurt myself? I don’t want to lose, Sam,” she said aloud. “Stop this!”

  Breathe.

  The feelings began to fade, and Joey tried to rationalize.

  You, idiot. It’s just commitment issues. Cold feet. I’m scared because I know Sam’s going to want to spend her life with me. Joey laughed nervously as she visualized herself running from the marriage alter and down the aisle in an attack of nerves.

  Get a grip.

  Joey glanced at the time. A few more hours, and Sam would be here.

  She’d be fine then. Sam always made her feel better.

  *

  Sam was in the vestry when the first call came, one of many in quick succession.

  It was from Grace Smith, secretary to the headmaster of the local Holy Trinity Convent School. She rang to say there had been a terrible accident involving a coachload of their pupils returning home from a day out. She didn’t know much, but the police were talking of fatalities.

  The second call came from the headmaster, Alex Durrant. He was calling from the scene, having immediately driven out to the accident, some ten miles away, when the police had informed him. He was emotional and could barely talk. He said she was needed at A&E where many parents were heading and would need counsel. He cried when he told her some children were dead.

  The third call came from Bishop Neil.

  “I know Neil; the school’s rung. I’m on my way to A&E now.”

  “It’s bad, Sam. I don’t know how many casualties, but too many. I’m rounding up some help for you. You’ll have other clergy with you soon.”

  On arrival, she learned the coach had collided on a bend with an articulated lorry. Both drivers were dead, as were at least half a dozen pupils. The emergency services were still extracting children from the metal carnage. It was expected that the death rate would climb.

  The A&E was a place of organized chaos amidst professional medical staff that were doing their best. Frantic, sometimes hysterical parents paced the waiting area desperate to know where their child was, and whether they were alive.

  Sam did the best she could, but felt inadequate. Nothing could ever prepare her for tragedy on this scale. Two other ministers arrived, and between them, they tried to bring solace and comfort. Some wanted to pray, and Sam found a small room where frightened parents could go. Religious belief became irrelevant. Non-believers prayed too and sought her and the other ministers’ succor. There were few who did not welcome their support, and Sam treated them all the same.

  The Reverend Nicolas Bentley found it more difficult. This became apparent to Sam when the two of them were alone, taking a quick respite, and a chance to gather their own thoughts. He had been helping to comfort the parents and the unhurt but shocked pupils.

  “These people aren’t churchgoers.” Bentley spoke as if their sudden need for prayer was some shameful, loathsome act. Sam considered his attitude out of proportion and put it down to stress. Everyone was under it tonight. Earlier, she’d spied a young police constable who barely looked out of school himself, throwing up outside. No one was spared. She wondered how the A&E staff coped.

  “It’s not important, Nicolas. They need us. It’s our role.”

  “I never understand,” he said. “Half of them don’t know what the inside of a church looks like, and yet, when faced with horror, who do they turn to? They don’t come to church, but they all want their children baptized. It’s a meaningless ritual for them and more an excuse for some petty social gathering. It’s wrong.”

  Sam held her tongue. Could Neil not have found someone else? This man rubbed her the wrong way. She would never understand him. Sam left him alone before she said something she’d regret. She was in no mood for his intolerant vitriol.

  By the time she got ba
ck to the vicarage it was gone midnight. Other clergy had turned up at the hospital and taken over. Sam was exhausted and dead on her feet. She barely knew how she’d driven home. She longed for bed, and hopefully sleep, before going back to the hospital the next—later—that same morning.

  As she started to drag her weary body upstairs, she noticed the bottle of wine she’d bought to take to dinner at Joey’s.

  The sudden awareness that the dinner had been tonight hit her. She’d forgotten it, and hadn’t even called Joey. Everything had happened so fast. From the moment she’d taken the first call mid morning, she’d had no time to think of anything else. Sam turned around, grabbed her car keys, and left the vicarage for Joey’s.

  As she parked the car, she could see a fraction of light from Joey’s sitting room window.

  Sam ran up the stairs to the door and hesitated for a moment before using the key. When she walked in, she found Joey awake and seated in an armchair next to a single source of light, a small lampshade to her side. Sam quietly entered the room and closed the door.

  “I thought you’d be asleep,” she said.

  “I was waiting for you,” Joey said.

  Sam was reminded of these same words not so long ago. Then the room had been full of love. Now Sam felt only tension.

  “I can never sleep. Besides, I knew you’d show.”

  Joey’s voice sounded flat, and there was an odd emptiness on her face, her eyes strange. A splinter of fear ran through Sam.

  She glanced behind Joey and at the table set for two. It was a romantic, intimate setting, a table prepared with such care and attention. Handsome candlesticks rested in the middle, and the napkins had been beautifully crafted into the shape of swans. The aroma of good cooking, now cold, still lingered. The love was evident. She knew that this dinner was going to be special, and that Joey was planning to tell her something important. Sam’s heart ached as she realized she’d ruined it.

  “I’m so sorry, Joey.” Her words sounded worthless and inadequate. “There’s been a dreadful accident. A coach full of kids—”

  “I know, Sam.” Joey sounded tired. “I caught it on the local news. I guessed you’d be needed, and when you didn’t turn up… You’ve had a terrible time. Are you okay?”

  Despite the genuine concern Sam heard in Joey’s voice, she sensed a distance between them. Sam struggled for words. She needed to sit down and moved toward an armchair, but as she did, Joey raised a hand.

  “Don’t.”

  Sam disobeyed. She was exhausted; her legs were like Jell-O. She’d been on her feet all day as she’d moved from parent to parent, from bedside to bedside. She planted herself on the arm of the chair, hoping the half measure would placate Joey. Joey didn’t want her to stay? Sam figured she knew why.

  “This is because I’ve let you down again,” she said. How many times had she canceled their arrangements or turned up late? This was what she’d tried to speak to Neil about…that key issue of her inability to have a life outside of the church. “But I’m a vicar. This is what I do.”

  “I know, Sam, I know. I’m not criticizing. I’d be disappointed in you if you turned from all those people who need you. You make a huge difference to their lives. You were born for this vocation. You are everything a vicar should be.”

  Sam heard the subtext. She heard what wasn’t being said. “But?”

  Joey didn’t say anything.

  “This is about me failing you,” Sam said.

  “No, it isn’t.”

  “Then what?” Sam wished she wasn’t so dog-tired.

  Joey closed her eyes and placed her head back to rest on the chair. Seconds later, she looked Sam in the eyes. “It’s lots of things.”

  “Like what, my love?” Sam didn’t believe her.

  “Sam, I don’t know.” Joey looked lost. “I just know we have to stop…that I can’t do this anymore.”

  “What?” Sam couldn’t hide her shock.

  “This isn’t working.”

  “It is working.”

  “I need to stop.” Joey sounded desperate. It was the first real emotion Sam had heard from her since she’d arrived. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

  “I love you,” Sam said.

  “I know you do. I love you too.”

  “Then don’t do this.”

  Joey looked sick. Sam felt the same.

  “Please, Sam, don’t make this any more difficult than it is.”

  “This isn’t making any sense, Joey. You’re just tired, and God knows, I am. Give me a chance to make this right. Let’s talk.”

  But Joey was shaking her head.

  “If not now, then later,” Sam said. But she was already wondering when. Her life for the imminent future would be full of funerals, grieving parents, and traumatized children. When was she going to find the time? Sam had no control over her life, and right now, there was nothing she could do about it. She realized she was shaking. This had turned into the day from hell.

  “Please, Sam.”

  Joey avoided eye contact, and Sam hated that. It was as if she’d already lost her.

  “I love you,” Sam repeated, hoping it would make a difference.

  Joey remained silent.

  “I need you,” Sam pleaded. “Don’t do this.”

  “Please go, Sam. Leave.”

  Joey’s words were knives plunging into her. Sam didn’t want this. She would never want this. Joey was the woman she was in love with. She was the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

  “I don’t want to leave.” Sam heard the rawness in her own voice.

  “But I want you to,” Joey whispered.

  “Joey, this isn’t right. This can’t be what you want.” But when Joey turned her face away and remained silent, Sam knew there was nothing more she could say to change her mind—not tonight anyway. She stood.

  “You remember, Joey, that I love you. I really wanted to be here with you tonight. There was no other place I wanted to be.” Maybe if she kept repeating this, Joey would relent.

  “Let me call you later,” Sam said as she got to the door.

  “No.” Joey’s response was firm. “Leave me alone, Sam. Please do this for me. This can’t work…we can’t work.”

  Sam stared back at her one last time before she left, hoping Joey would feel different tomorrow, or in a few days.

  The door clicked shut, and the moment it did, Joey dropped her façade of control. She placed her head to her hands and cried.

  It was the hardest thing she’d ever done.

  But it was the right thing.

  Now she understood she was wrong for Sam. Why hadn’t she seen it before? Joey was losing more self-control, and she knew she’d drag Sam down into her own personal quagmire. She’d hurt Sam badly tonight, but it was better than the damage she’d do to her if they stayed together.

  Sam was wonderful. She gave her life to her beliefs, to the church. She had an important role. People sought her out in their darkest moments. They needed her, and Sam always responded. This day, this night, it was evident. Joey couldn’t corrupt that.

  And she would.

  She was breaking down. She didn’t want Sam to see her self-destruct. And that’s what she was doing. There were all these frightening thoughts in her head that didn’t feel like hers. It was like being controlled by unseen forces.

  Sam will look at me like the others have, like I’m crazy.

  But it’s just the tiredness, the crippling exhaustion I’m living with.

  She kept flitting from thought to thought like a moth bouncing around light.

  Am I going mad? I must be. I’ve pushed Sam from my life. But I had to.

  Everything was hopeless. I’m hopeless.

  She couldn’t think straight.

  She had to break with Sam before it was too late. Sam was tenacious and would stay with her to the end.

  End of what?

  Joey’s thoughts took a curve.

  How would the sacred ins
titution of the church handle Sam ending up with a lesbian partner? At best, it would bring Sam’s life into the spotlight, and she was a private person behind her clerical role. At worst, narrow-minded bigots would attempt to tarnish Sam’s deserved and honorable reputation. It might make some of her flock shy from her. Sam would hate that.

  Would Joey be able to protect her? No. When had she ever protected anyone? She had the blood of three friends on her hands. Her nightmares were her retribution, her constant reminder that she was responsible for their deaths. Why did she deserve someone like Sam? She didn’t. This is what Gloria had seen and warned her of.

  Joey suddenly understood that she was no vicar’s wife.

  She was no good for anyone.

  She needed to go home.

  *

  In the weeks that followed, Sam survived in a continuum of nonexistence.

  She functioned as an automaton. Her vocation brought her days that were full of funerals, and the counseling of the bereaved. Sam hid herself from their pain, afraid that it would add to her own. She shut herself off mentally and hated it.

  A Catholic minister held a school service to allow staff, pupils, and parents to come together in prayer. Sam was invited along with other church colleagues. It affected her. When she closed her eyes at night, she saw only the haunted faces of them all.

  Sam longed to go to Joey, but she tried to give her the distance she had asked for. She hoped the absence would make Joey relent.

  Several times, Sam phoned her, but Joey never picked up. Sam left messages, but there was never any response. As time drew on, Sam went to Joey’s, but each time Joey refused to open the door. She would only tell her to go away.

  Sam again tried a volley of phone messages, and again, none were answered.

  One weekend morning, three weeks later, Sam went back to Joey’s apartment. This time she was determined to see her. She would use the key—she hadn’t so far. Sam went upstairs and rang the bell. There was no answer. Sam tried the key, but it didn’t work. Had Joey changed the lock?

  She went away but returned later that evening. There were no lights on. She rang the bell, but still there was no response.