THE COMPLETE TRILOGY, COMPENDIUM OF THE HEART: An epic love story

by RJ Hunter

  Both women grinned and sipped their drinks. However, the silence remained, and Lizzie got the impression that her friend had something on her mind.

  Sally asked for a glass of water as she sat back and thought about what she was going to say. Lizzie, meanwhile studied the lunch menu with a look of utter disdain on her face, before turning to the waitress, "Chicken salad, no onions! What are you having Sally?"

  Usually, swimming would make Sally ravenous but today for some reason, she seemed to have lost her appetite.

  "I'll just have soup of the day please." As soon as the waitress had taken the order, Sally sat forward in her chair. “I’m going to sell the house, Lizzie. I’ve been thinking about it for some time, and I’ve finally come to a decision. Living there is a constant reminder of William. He’s gone, and the only way I’m ever really going to let go of him is by moving away. I can’t live in a shrine, which is what I’m doing now. Can you understand that?”

  “Of course I can darling,” said Lizzie looking anxious. “Whatever you decide to do, I’ll help you all I can, you know that. But what about Jonathan and the girls, and where will you go, has it really come to this, Sally?”

  “It’s only Penny who I’m concerned about. Laura is in London doing her nurse training and Jonathan, well - I hardly ever see him, and anyway, I think he’s going to move into a flat with some of his friends from university. Lizzie, they only come home when they’re broke or to get some washing done. It’s ridiculous having such a large house with only Penny and myself to live in it. Don’t you think so?”

  Lizzie sighed and finished her wine.

  “You still haven’t said where you’re going, somewhere near I hope. There’s a lovely house for sale on the green, it would just suit you - its got a…”

  Sally quickly interrupted before Lizzie got too carried away with her house on the green.

  “I’m going back to university, to Falcondale, as a mature student. By going back to where it all began is the only way I’ll ever get over what has happened. It’ll do me good to get the old brain working again, but I’ll have to find a buyer first and that could take an eternity.”

  Lizzie was completely taken aback by what Sally had just said.

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t quite understand your reasoning, Sally. How can you possibly escape the past, only to plunge straight back into it again. Do you really think it's wise to go back there, after all these years?”

  “I know it must sound absolutely crazy to you Lizzie, but it’s something I just have to do. Anyway, I’m only going back to study, at the ripe old age of thirty nine - I’m not going to another planet.” Replied Sally, slightly irritated.

  “Have you told the children yet?” Asked Lizzie, still shocked by the news.

  “Yes, I have, and it turned into the most awful row. We’ve never argued like that before. Jonathan got very angry and said I had no right to sell their home, then he just stormed off and I haven’t heard from him since.”

  "Please don't do anything drastic. Just promise me, you'll take a step back and give yourself plenty of time to think."

  "Thank-you, Lizzie. You don't have to worry, I am a grown woman!"

  The café began to fill up with a wide assortment of fitness enthusiasts of all shapes and sizes. Some of whom were attired in quite bizarre, figure-hugging outfits, which Lizzie thought totally inappropriate for an establishment meant for eating. She cringed as loud pop music suddenly blared out over the sound system, making conversation quite an effort. They asked for the bill, but as Lizzie was gathering together her collection of carrier bags, she beckoned Sally closer.

  “Our highly-scented friend in the sharp suit appears to have taken quite a fancy to you. He’s done nothing but stare since he arrived.”

  “That’s absurd!” Smirked Sally, “It’s you he’s probably interested in, after all you’re much more sophisticated than I am!”

  “I hardly think so darling, for a start, I look like the back end of a bus! I’ve got wrinkles, and let’s not forget about the haemorrhoids either. I don’t think a dashing hunk like that would go for an old maid with piles, do you?”

  “You’ve left out the varicose veins Lizzie, come on now - let’s not be modest!” Giggled Sally.

  Several diners glanced around to see two glamorous, mature women leave the café holding on to each other in fits of laughter.

  Outside, they hugged each other fondly, before making their way to the car park. It made Lizzie feel good to hear Sally laugh again, even if it was at her own expense. She stopped and turned to her friend, “Please don’t think I’m speaking out of turn, but perhaps it is time you met someone else. It’s wrong for a woman like you to be alone. I think you should get out more and don’t keep punishing yourself like this. William’s death wasn’t your fault.”

  “You're right Lizzie, but only if the right person comes along. I’m in no hurry - its just taken longer than I thought to move on.”

  Lizzie eyed her suspiciously, and knew there was more to this.

  "I think you're holding out on me, Sally. There's something else isn't there?"

  Sally looked down at the ground, as she thought about what to say.

  "Do you remember years ago, I told you I had a crush on William's brother, David?"

  "Yes, now you come to mention it, I do. How funny, but I don't think William would have been very happy though?"

  "No, of course he wouldn't," replied Sally, hesitating.

  "But there was more to it than that, Lizzie."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I fell in love with David, and I actually loved him more than William. I feel so awful, Lizzie."

  "Oh my god, and you still went ahead and married William?"

  "Yes, I did - it was so wrong of me. But I couldn't destroy William by telling him, I'd chosen the wrong brother."

  "Sally, you should have told me. So this has been causing you even more pain, the guilt of loving, David?"

  Sally nodded, "Is it possible to be in love with two men at the same time - two brothers?"

  "That's a new one on me. Did poor William ever suspect you loved, David?"

  "No, I don't think so, but please don't put it like that, it sounds like I had an affair with David."

  "I'm sorry Sally, but in the circumstances, I can't blame you for wanting to go back to Falcondale. Did anything ever happen between you and David back then?"

  Sally felt awkward. "No of course not."

  "Nonsense, try pulling the other leg, it's got bells on!"

  "Lizzie, I just don't know what to do for the best."

  "Is David still there?"

  "I don't know," blushed Sally.

  "You're a bad liar, Mrs. Peddlescoombe! It's blindingly obvious to me, what you should do - go back to Falcondale!"

  Sally stood impassively, as Lizzie casually flung the carrier bags into the boot of her BMW. She then blew her friend a kiss, and arranged to phone her the next day. Sally walked over to where her own car was parked, thinking about what Lizzie had suggested about meeting someone else. It certainly hadn’t been something high on her priority list, and as for David, she didn't know if she could or really wanted to go through all the emotional turmoil of getting involved with him.

  She sat inside the car and started the engine, and as she did so, the radio came on. She gasped, as she recognised the song, and leaned forward to switch the radio off. But something caused her to hesitate, and she slowly sat back in her seat. At first it was just a slight watering of her deep blue eyes. Then a steady trickle soon turned into a flow that began to stream down her cheeks. It gained momentum until she gave in to the huge, heaving sobs of anguish that still tore at her soul. The anguish that had been part of her life now for so long.

  The song ended and the DJ’s chirpy banter rudely interrupted her moment of sorrow.

  ”Hey folks, that was way back to 1962, with Bryan Hyland’s ’Sealed With A Kiss.’ Does anyone out there remember what they were doing then. It was the yea
r Marilyn Monroe died. Give me a call, the phone-lines are open!”

  Sally switched off the radio, and feeling angry with herself, searched in her bag for a tissue. She never thought of herself as a weak person, so why did she react like this? She thought things were improving, which they were, but now this again. As she was trying to regain her composure, she heard heavy footsteps and glanced into her rear view mirror. It was the flashy aftershave man from the café walking towards his car. It was the same man who, unbeknown to Sally been stalking her these past few months. She couldn’t quite see his face because of the sunglasses, but something about him disturbed her. She couldn’t help but notice the huge, gleaming white limousine he was driving.

  Frank stared in at her, but she quickly looked away, not wanting anyone to see her, in such a state.

  2. FALCONDALE

  Autumn, 1962

  For many, those first few weeks at university were quite a traumatic time, and for Sally Carlington it was no different. She had arrived as a slim, shy, eighteen-year from Middlesex. It had been the first time she had really been away by herself, apart from a school trip to France the year earlier. But this was all so different, now she was alone in Falcondale, deep in rural Wales, and not knowing a soul. Her parents had driven her, along with all the paraphernalia that fresher’s were inclined to bring with them at the start of a new term.

  It was early Saturday afternoon, on the 29th September, 1962. After a very brief look around the campus, her parents had left her. They had a bridge game that evening and wanted to get straight back. The fifty pounds Sally’s father gave her, as he kissed her on the cheek could do nothing to alleviate the teenager’s fears of impending loneliness.

  “Don’t forget to phone will you, darling - we love you, work hard now,” and that was it, they had gone. Sally was an only child, and although she seemed to have everything a child could want, her upbringing wasn't what you would call, happy. Her father a civil engineer and her teacher mother, weren't bad parents in any particular way, they were just cold and distant, as if they didn't really want a child. Sally was never taken out on trips, and rarely given dolls or toys to play with. Her parents could certainly afford them, but they just didn't bother, and Sally was generally left to her own devices. Christmas time and birthdays were usually depressing, non events, and as Sally got older, she began to dread them. It meant sitting at the same table as her parents, trying to make conversation, and feeling the tense, awkward atmosphere. So, in many ways, coming to Falcondale was a blessing, but only if she could settle in, and get used to the vastly different way of life.

  She plonked herself down on the sturdy iron-framed bed and looked around at the small squalid room despondently. In one corner stood a grubby, cracked enamel sink with a college towel hanging from the rusting iron rail below it. Just above the sink, was a worn-out mirror, which had obviously fallen down several times judging by the numerous filled-in holes dotted around the edges. To the side of this was a threadbare, but somewhat homely-looking winged-back armchair. Next, stood a huge, dark, towering wardrobe which gave Sally the spooks. Then, there was her desk. This was a vast monstrosity of a thing, proudly bearing the graffiti and initials of long-departed students, carved into its heavily waxed surface. She stood up and went over to sit at the desk. Running her fingers over the dark wood, she imagined herself being there, toiling away all alone, during the coming winter months.

  Finding the room quite stuffy, Sally went to open the small sash-cord window. It was stuck and took all of her strength to wrench it free. It was worth the effort though, as the cool breeze felt refreshing on her face. She pulled back the garish, yellow-flowered curtains as far back as they would go, then, poking her head out of the window, she noticed the view wasn’t nearly as bad as she had expected. The courtyard below was very pleasing to the eye, with the circular flower bed still a beautiful mass of colour, as it overflowed with a multitude of dahlias and begonias

  She sat back on the bed once more and opened the thick, brown envelope bearing her name. It had been given to her on arrival by a thin, bureaucratic-looking woman, who sat behind a desk looking most important. Inside were numerous typed sheets giving details and background information about the proud learning institution she had enrolled in. One sheet told her which degree courses were available and how she could combine three different subjects during her first year. Sally quite liked this scheme as it would give her the opportunity to study a totally unrelated topic. She could then drop the subject at a later date if she found it wasn’t to her liking. Sally had already elected to study English as her core subject, but now history and classics began to intrigue her as well.

  Flicking through more pages, she came across a map of the town and surrounding areas. This was accompanied by a list of interesting places to visit, things to do, and suggested walks around the hills and countryside. Another sheet mentioned the fact that the following Tuesday was matriculation day, with a welcome speech to be made by the college president, in the assembly hall. Sally sighed, Tuesday was an eternity away. The problem was today, and how on earth was she going to get through it. She tried to think rationally, and came to the conclusion that most of the other new students probably felt the same - lonely and depressed at being stuck in such a remote and strange place.

  She heard some activity outside and returning to the window, saw other newcomers arriving and heading into the entrance of the building. Like her, most had been brought in by their parents and looked somewhat bewildered. Her heart went out to them as she noticed the long, sad faces as they struggled with their various cases and bags. Sally wondered if her face looked like that too.

  Putting the papers aside, she decided to take the initiative and venture down to the recreation lounge on the ground floor. Perhaps she could meet some of the others and get something to eat and drink.

  Several of the various societies had set up trestle tables in the enormous lounge and were eagerly touting for new members to join them in their seemingly exciting pursuits. Sally immediately joined the hill-walking club, but was in two minds about committing herself to the Shakespeare Society. She had loved the Bard’s works while at grammar school and would welcome the chance to act out Romeo and Juliet in full costume. As she deliberated and let her imagination flow, a tall, broad-shouldered man of about forty five approached her.

  “Good afternoon, Miss, my name is John Meredith, I’m the Dean of Students,” he said with a distinct air of authority. “I am here purely for your welfare, and if you ever want to talk to me about anything, no matter what - my door is always open.”

  Sally introduced herself and thanked the Dean. She immediately liked him and felt re-assured by his calm manner and regard for her well-being. A kindly woman from the Falcondale Christian Society then came forward and offered Sally a cup of strong-looking tea and a rather tempting cream cake to accompany it. Sally graciously declined the offer, but accepted a glass of home-made lemonade instead. Taking her drink, she decided to step outside for a breath of fresh air, after literally being overwhelmed by goodwill.

  Wooden bench seats were neatly arranged around the perimeter of the courtyard, and Sally sat herself down on the nearest one she could find. She needed a few moments just to sit and gather her thoughts. The university had done much to welcome the new students and make them feel relaxed, and she now began to realise, that given time, she probably would get to enjoy her time there. Looking up at the mass of over-looking windows, Sally tried to locate which room was hers, but they all looked the same. She then smiled and felt a sense of relief to see that everyone else appeared to be blessed with the same vile curtains as her! She finished her lemonade and decided to go back in and join the Shakespeare Society after all.

  As she was about to stand, the sound of pop music began to blare from an open window. Sally looked up again and tried to locate the source of the music, thinking who on earth could be so down right rude and ignorant.

  “Do you like Billy Fury?” Inquired the male voice.<
br />
  She turned to see a tall, fair-haired young man sit down on the bench beside her.

  “I really don’t know. All I can hear at the moment is just a loud din!”

  The well-dressed young man laughed and offered her a cigarette, which she declined. “So you’re a fresher are you? You’ll have to get used to noise like that at university - it gets worse!”

  “Are you a student here?” Asked Sally.

  “I sure am. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure, my name's Frank,” he replied, looking deeply into the pretty blonde‘s, blue eyes.”

  She told him her name but the double entendre was lost on Sally.

  “Today’s my first day - what’s it like here?”

  “It can be quite a shock to the system, especially if you're from a big city. But, we have ways of making our own fun here at Falcondale,” he smirked. “What’s your major?”

  “English, but I may try Classics and History.” She replied, feeling herself going red for no particular reason. He laughed and sat back, as she watched him take a long drag from his cigarette.

  “I’m glad you said no, I like that in a woman, it shows spirit. Besides, it’s not ladylike for a pretty little thing like you to smoke.”

  Sally didn‘t quite know how to take that, and felt even more embarrassed. However, she did enjoy a few more minutes of seemingly polite conversation with the stranger. He went on to tell her things about some of the lecturers which made her laugh. Although she now felt quite relaxed in his company, she had no real experience of talking to men, especially those like, Frank Gant.

  She glanced at her watch and made some excuse about having to go back inside. Sally then thanked the young man for taking the time to speak to her and stood up to leave. He walked the few yards to the entrance with her, before gallantly opening the door with an extravagant theatrical flourish.

  “Are you one of the society representatives?” She asked, thinking he may be a Shakespearean.