An Acute Attraction

by A. J. Walters

  The mix of music carries on until we arrive at Angel Hill in the centre of town and pull up just outside the Cathedral and Abbey ruins. Gazing at the impressive thousand year old site that has been a place of worship and pilgrimage, I feel I am home. They say that you tend not to appreciate something until it is gone, this however this is one thing I think I did. The peace and tranquillity of the place was one where some happier memories were formed with the family, especially during the festive period when there would be a traditional continental market bustling with Christmas shoppers and Carollers. I sigh at the visionary reminder of a life that was shattered by circumstance. Come on Chambers, you’re here to concoct some newer, cheerful memories, step to it! Twisting in my seat to face Marc I kiss him on his lips.

  “Right I am off. Behave yourself Mr Sanders and I shall see you later on. Can I text you later?”

  “I insist you text me later Miss Chambers as I am the one that wants to make sure you are behaving, because I know what you women can be like when you get together.” Leaning in towards me, Marc and I share a tender kiss that lasts that minute or two longer than usual, which yes, results in me gushing!

  Without sounding selfish or like the jealous type, I am fortunate that Marc doesn’t tutor any unattached swooning female students; he does work with a small team of male colleagues, plus his secretary who is very happily married and seven months pregnant. Yes ok I do sound selfish and jealous, and I really shouldn’t assume that any swooning would be done by only women! Oh for goodness sake woman. I am not going to say that I don’t deserve to be where I am right now. Life, fate or a greater being has given me another shot at happiness and I am going to grab it by the balls- if you pardon the expression.

  Reluctantly peeling myself away from him, I leave Marc to go off to do whatever ‘sciencey’ business he has to work on today and I cross over to the other side of the road to head into the Cathedral. The last time I ventured into Bury St.Ed I was stood outside here waiting for Her Majesty the Queen as she made a historic visit, it was such a monumental day and one that I doubt I will ever be able repeat again, never say never I suppose though. Watching the excited faces on the school children who I had accompanied from the middle school I worked at, was such a joy. Now here I am again and I really don’t feel as though I have been away for over four years. Entering the magnificent house of prayer I am automatically drawn into the magnificence of the place, the first area I make my way to is the Ancient Library which is home to books dating back as far as to the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries; it is a book-a-holics Aladdin’s cave of leather bound treasures and the catalogue of over 550 books is a sight for sore eyes. I spend a good hour and a half, maybe more; in there and then for a short while I just sit quietly and silently count my blessings, offering thanks to whoever maybe listening.

  Stepping out into to the bright, warm sunshine, I look to the sky and breathing in the clear air, I have positive vibes regarding the future as I leave yet more past behind me. This visit is without question turning into a pilgrimage of all sorts and putting some emotional baggage to rest. This is what I came for, what I sought and the whole reason behind my week staying here. I am ever hopeful of going back at the end of the week, with a clear conscience and feeling atoned.

  Time is getting on as I wonder around the Abbey gardens taking in the sights and sweet scent of the multitude of flora. It is hard to believe that just yesterday; it was here that Joseph had his accident. If it wasn’t for the still damp moss clinging to the old walls you would wonder how on earth he had managed to have such a hard fall. Speaking of Joseph, I telephoned his grandma this morning. Rose informed me that he had a good nights rest and that the painkillers seemed to have kicked in at long last, as he was still sleeping when I called. I asked her not to let him know that I had phoned I can just see his reaction now. However I would speak to him later on today.

  Hearing the clock tower chime twelve I start to make my way over to the shopping area of town and the charming little tea rooms, where Erin and I have arranged to meet. They serve the best English tea and pastries in the area, plus I also thought it would be a good idea to give my liver a rest for a short while. As I approach the Norman tower and gateway I slow down some what in my pace of walking. You know when you get a sense that someone is following you? I have no idea why, but I was getting just that, an impression that there was someone behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck rise at the thought of it and so I nervously look behind to see if I can spot anyone. There a number of people around, so trying to pick out any one person acting suspiciously are near impossible. It is probably me getting the vibes of something or someone that just isn’t there, I mean who is to say that this area isn’t haunted with the history it has behind it. Yes, I do believe in ghosts having seen one in the house we used to live in down here. This and the surrounding areas are full of either sacred grounds or were Roman settlements, so it is unsurprising really. Shaking off the tingles that shoot down my spine I carry on to where I am going and try to dismiss the thoughts I have clouding my mind.

  I hear Erin’s scream before I see her. Oh my gosh! Apart from my ex-in-laws, it is so good to see a familiar face in the crowd. Almost in slow motion we run towards one another before hugging in a big bear kind of way. Not including Jackie, Erin was the only other person I knew I could go to when it all kicked off down here. We worked together in the same school, her as a Child Protection Officer and me as a trainee teacher. With her line of work I knew I could depend on my good friend for confidentiality reasons as well as support for me. She was my initial life line and I will never be able to repay her for what she did, or at least I hope not in the same way, I wouldn’t wish that upon my enemy.

  “Jeez Izzy, look at you. You are looking great hun.” Erin pulls me in for another hug and then we make our way across to the table situated outside the Tea Room.

  Erin pours me a cup from a funky Emma Bridgewater teapot; it is hand painted with light and dark pink love hearts, and something that I would definitely own if I drank more tea at home. As it is though I am more of a coffee drinker; in my line of work you need it and in great quantities. Next to the pot is another piece of Staffordshire fine bone pottery and up on it is a delectable display of sandwiches, cakes and pastries. The only way that this could be beaten, would be if we were to be seated at The Ritz Hotel in London. Heck, actually it would cost triple or even quadruple the price that we are paying here, so I am extremely happy where I am thank you very much.

  “Come on then you spill the beans, what have I been missing out on since leaving the place? From what I have seen so far, it doesn’t look like much. I did hear about the school though.”

  I have kept up with some gossip of sorts via social networking sites, so when I read that my old school was torched to the ground after its closure; I did feel rather sad. We did have some great times there, as that is where my friends as well as colleagues were and even if I say so myself, were we a great team. So it was memories that were burnt alongside the rubble.

  “Yeah, we still haven’t gotten over the event to be honest. I know it was derelict, but we were all hoping that the building would be put to some other good use. Unfortunately, the options were taken away and the decision was made to knock it all down. There is nothing there now apart from the playground and sports field, so it looks as though it is prime building land for more houses to go on to.” I can tell that Erin is more upset than most as that is where she went to school when she was younger as well.

  There is one winner to come out of all this should building a new estate be on the cards, and that is the local authority. They must be seeing money signs for how much the land will sell for. I don’t bring this up in the conversation with Erin; as we both dislike talking about politics, it gets one’s hackles up. So I opt for the safer option and change the subject slightly.

  “How are the gang? Do you get to see much of them?” Erin moved on to pastures new and now works for social services, whilst others we
re fortunate to be employed by the upper school.

  “Not really. I saw Lisa in town a couple of weeks ago, she’s looking well. Dan is in remission again by the way.” We both know what fantastic news that is. This is the second time Dan, who was the deputy head at the school, has had a tough long battle against Cancer. It’s at that point we take a moment to dive in to our delicious lunch and are no doubt reflecting on the past and thinking the same thoughts of how lucky we really are. Erin breaks the brief spell of solitude. When she momentarily pauses in between breaths, I get the impression that she is unsure as to whether say the words or not.

  “Lisa did ask about you and the boys. She and well pretty near enough everyone, read in the press about what happened. It was reported here, Cambridge and all over East Anglia. I doubt very much if there is anyone left that didn’t read it or if there is, well then they probably found out from word of mouth.”

  Since leaving and it coming out what He had done, I hadn’t heard from anyone I had worked with except for Erin. At the time though, I didn’t notice as there was too much other heavy stuff going on around me. My thoughts were solely on the children; their safety, wellbeing and happiness. The news that my now ex-husband had been sent to prison for a very long time, was what made the front page of the papers and the main gossip of the town. It probably made a lot of friends uncomfortable, as they knew Him also. Several years down the line however, it is us that are living the lives we want while he is kept in confinement. I have spent my time, a long time at that, going through the guilt and thinking I failed dramatically at being a mother. However that was then and this is now, I don’t think that way any longer, haven’t for a while; new beginnings and all that.

  “I expect it is hard for anyone to talk about it, what can you say? It’s one of those situations where there are no words really. Any words that are said about Him would only be wasted ones; he’s not worth a single breath.”

  Sitting forward to show that line of conversation is over; I finish my cuppa and start to make a move. “Come on Mrs, let’s go and do some retail therapy. I’m all good, the boys are all good and right now life is all good, very good in fact.”

  As we roam the busy streets arm in arm, I am unaware of the figure that is shadowing us from behind.

  Epilogue

  “Emelie you dare to approach Isabel again, then I cannot and will not account for my actions. I couldn’t give a shit about anyone or anything else, but God help me if you involve her anymore…” Mark couldn’t hold back the rage that was inflamed within him.

  On the other end of the phone Dr Emiliana Acerbi stood relaxed gazing out of her hotel window, watching the students and tourists alike going about their business. The cold, calculated smile she wore did nothing to help Marc’s aggravated anger. He knew exactly what she was and that her heart of stone would never feel any emotion other than the selfish need and want for wealth and fame.

  “I cannot promise you anything Marc until the money Stefano requested is safely with us. I know you just as well as you know me, therefore I do know you care about everyone you love, that includes your father and Isabel. So until that money is delivered here and we are out of the country I should be careful Marc. I can’t control everything Stefano does and he is growing ever more impatient.”

  Acknowledgements

  I am forever grateful to each and every person that has played a part in my writing and publishing this book. I’m sorry I can’t mention you all individually.

  First and foremost I have to acknowledge my boys as, if it wasn’t for their patience and love I wouldn’t have been able to write a single word. In between my everyday job and the writing, time has been precious, so I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

  Dad, you were one of two rocks that has helped when we really needed it. I know mum will be smiling down on us. Love you.

  My beautiful BFF and soul sister, Beverley Hartshorne. It has been a pleasure to have known you all of your 30 something years. You have been my second rock and muse. I love you and here’s to the next 30 years of being my wine buddy.

  A huge thank you has to go out to my wonderful, talented brother John Walters, who designed the front cover for me. You can find more of John’s work here at; www.artofjohnwalters.com

  My passion for reading and books is what drove me to doing this. So a humongous shout out to the following authors and writers;

  Sylvain Reynard; a truly remarkable author and writer of words. Thank you for giving me so much pleasure with my reading and for the support you have graciously offered. Gabriel will always be my number one, although Marc is a very close second. You can find his website here; www.sylvainreynard.com

  To Cameron Lincoln; an awesome guy who I got to know via Twitter. You have been a truly fantastic friend. You can find his website here; www.cameronlincoln.wordpress.com

  My second muse, E. I want to thank you hugely for the support you have given me. You have been my encylopedia for medical knowledge and you’ve had to put up with so much from me, which I will be eternally grateful for. You helped me to make Marc in more ways than one. I wish the best of luck in your writing.

  Stella Knightley is a brilliant author. She was the one that encouraged me to take the plunge and to extend on my original blog. It’s thanks to you that I found the courage to do it. I am forever grateful. You can find all of her books on ‘Goodreads’.

  I would also like to thank Serena Kett at ‘Compare our men, book whores’ on Facebook who drove forward on promoting my book cover and publication.

  And last but not least the readers, friends and supporters at home, work, Twitter and Facebook. You are all blooming brilliant.