Belonging

by Maria Bernard

  “For Pete’s sake, was that painful or what?” he scoffed, dragging both his and Gwen’s suitcases up the twisty stairway to the very top of the B&B. “Could this place be any tinier?” he grumbled all the way up to their room.

  Gwen couldn’t help it. After the third or fourth expletive from his mouth, she cracked up, laughing. He was just so gangly and tall, it was a sight to watch him duck and maneuver through the narrow stairway. “Oh my, does this mean the honeymoon’s over already?” she teased at the return of Crispin’s sardonic personality.

  “Glad to see someone’s finding humour in this,” he scoffed, sufficiently fed up and annoyed with the ordeal. “I blame myself, really. Perhaps I should have paid more attention to that itinerary of yours.”

  “It’s not the B&B’s fault you’re so tall!” She doubled over and cracked up again when he bumped his head on the way into their room at the far end of the hall. She stopped laughing, though, when he opened the door and froze.

  “Good God!”

  “What now?” Gwen asked on her way in behind him. “Oh, wow!” She couldn’t breathe for a moment. One look around the room, covered in everything chintz, from the peach coloured flowery bedding, matching curtains, and wallpaper she could only imagine what Crispin was thinking.

  “Oh, you laugh now, but you just wait, young miss,” he challenged, dropping the suitcases on the floor and crossing his arms defiantly over his chest.

  “Hey, how is this my fault?” she asked, still giggling until the sinister look on his face made her think twice. When he winked and motioned with his eyes towards the ornate brass bed, she realized he hadn’t taken offence to the chintz decor as much as he was overwhelmed by the possibilities.

  “Now, don’t just stand there, tempting me.” He shrugged out of his dark coat and tugged at the sleeves of his black shirt, fiddling with the frilly cuffs. “Be ready in ten minutes. Let’s get this sightseeing over with so the real fun can begin.” Quirking a definitive brow, he turned and made his way into the powder room. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, more chintz!”

  ***

  As they toured Windsor Castle, Gwen found herself overwhelmed by the history. The grounds themselves were gorgeous. The architecture, awe-inspiring and art within the castle itself, captivating. While Crispin appreciated it to a point, he was more in awe of Gwen’s fascination with it all. He surprised himself, really, with how much patience he had in regards to her. If he had it his way, they would have burned through the exhibits in less than an hour, but not Gwen. She felt the need to read each little tag and study each bit of information as if committing it all to memory.

  “Sorry, Crispin, I don’t mean to keep you waiting.” She found him sitting on a bench at the exit of the latest room. “It’s just all so interesting.”

  “You know…” He stood up and stretched, taking her hand. “We can always come back someday. You don’t have to see it all in one shot.”

  “Oh, but we’re only in Windsor for one night. Tomorrow we leave for Bath for two nights before we return to Canada.” As she spoke, her face dropped and Crispin noted the disappointment in her voice. She really did love it here, in dreary old England.

  Tucking her hand into his elbow, he gave his head a slight shake, struggling to keep the words from coming, but it was too late. He had already lost his heart to her. Why not go the distance? “I meant, we can always come back another time. To England.”

  “Really? You’d want to?”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I am having the time of my life.”

  “Could have fooled me!” She chuckled, giving his arm a squeeze. “You looked bored out of your skull in there.”

  “Ha, that’s just me, being myself.” He laughed alongside her. “I’m quite the miserable bastard. Best you know that know.”

  “You have your moments,” she teased. “But I still love you.” She watched him smile as the words left her mouth. “Oh, Crispin, you are a treasure, to be sure.”

  Taking her hand, he brought her knuckles to his lips and gave them a kiss. “Come on, cheeky monkey, let’s grab us some dinner.”

  Once again, they found an old pub and requested a quiet booth. While they waited for their food, they enjoyed a bottle of white wine. Tired but content, Gwen, slid closer to Crispin’s side and placed her hand on his knee. He no longer flinched or tensed, on the contrary, he seemed to appreciate her touch, even going as far as to encourage it by reciprocating the affection. What a nice change, she thought with a sigh. For a while, she had feared she would never get to touch him so freely.

  “What’s with the sigh?” he asked.

  “I’m just so happy to be here with you,” she admitted. “You’re like home to me. I feel so safe when we’re together. I’ve never felt so secure.”

  “Is this the wine talking?”

  “No, it is not. This is my heart talking,” she said with a smile.

  “Well, then don’t stop. Keep talking, sweetheart of mine.” As he listened, he toyed with the bracelet on her wrist, oddly quite annoyed with it. Something about it bothered him and he didn’t know exactly why.

  “Do you think it’s weird?” she asked, stirring him from his thoughts.

  “Weird?”

  “That I could feel so at home so far away from my actual home? It’s strange to me. I mean, we moved around so much when I was small. And I know it’s where my anxieties stem from, the constant moving from place to place, yet here I am, in a totally different country and feeling perfectly okay if not better than ever.”

  “Maybe it’s true what they say…”

  “What?”

  “Home is where the heart is.” As he said the words, he couldn’t believe it was him talking. What did he know of hearts and homes?

  “Aww… and since my heart is with you, I feel at home,” she gushed, batting her lashes up at him.

  “God, Gwen, you’re quite the little poet, you know that?”

  “I would have loved to be a writer,” she said with a sigh. “It’s what I was hoping to do after I graduated university. It’s why I studied English Literature.”

  “Why not try again?” Crispin suggested. “Sign up for the upcoming fall.”

  “I don’t know.” She hesitated. “I don’t think it’s possible for me.”

  “Why not?” he asked.

  “Well, for one thing, I couldn’t afford it.”

  “Tell me about it,” he sympathized. “I’ve got loads of student loans to pay off when I graduate. I don’t think I’ll ever be out of debt. Maybe I’ll just keep signing up for random courses and applying for more loans.”

  “Well, I don’t have debts, thank goodness, but when I quit, I let my parents down. See, they had paid all my expenses and my tuition. Then I just up and dropped out. They lost all the money. What a waste. I feel awful about it. I couldn’t ask them for any more financial help.”

  Once again, he toyed with the bracelet. “I suppose working at the shop doesn’t pay very much.”

  “Not really. But I’m grateful for the job. My uncle has been very generous and patient with me. He charges very little rent for the apartment upstairs, too. He knows the way I am and he looks out for me.”

  “The way you are is perfect.” He gave her hand a squeeze.

  “See, this is why I fell in love with you,” she squeaked, kissing him on the cheek.

  “I’m quite the charmer when I want to be.” He turned and snagged her bottom lip between his teeth. He then kissed her, his hand on her cheek. “All silliness aside, Gwen, you are perfect as you are.”

  “Thanks, Crispin,” she said, overwhelmed. He snuck in another kiss and quite possibly blushed.

  “God, look at us.” He shook himself off and took a sip of wine. “Let’s talk about something else or I’ll turn to mush.”

  “Okay.” She giggled and sat up straight. “Tell me about your band, your songs. Is that what you want to do with your life? Or is it art, or is it psychology? I’m sorry if I ask too many questions.”


  “All good questions.” He paused when the server appeared and placed their fish and chips in front of them. “Art Therapy is my goal, the band just came about when I met Kell. But now, I love both and want both equally. Trouble is, I don’t quite know what I’ll do with it all just yet.”

  “Art Therapy?” she repeated, impressed. “How interesting! Do you paint as well?”

  “You make it all sound so grand. It’s merely a talent I discovered when I was being dragged around to different foster homes. I picked up a pencil one day, and instead of stabbing someone in the eye with it, I started drawing.”

  “Whoa…”

  “Oh, yes, I could have easily gone over to the dark side. Trust me, it wasn’t pretty growing up the way I did. My art got me through it. Maybe I can help someone else use art to cope with whatever they are having to deal with.” Crispin could see her mind racing with questions. He wasn’t looking forward to this particular conversation but he also knew he couldn’t avoid it forever. If she were truly in love with him, she had the right to know everything about him. Then she could decide for herself if he was worth loving. It pained him greatly to imagine losing her now that he had started to believe their relationship had a future. But in order to have that future, he needed her to hear about his not so pleasant past.

  “Go on, ask me,” he encouraged. “I’ll tell you everything, but prepare yourself, I won’t edit the tales of bullying and neglect I endured. Well, the bullying I put a stop to real soon. All it took was being pushed too far. But the neglect, well, that was an entirely different level of cruelty beyond my control.”

  “Oh, what do you mean?” she asked cautiously, steeling herself for whatever he might say.

  “Well, for years I was an easy target, being on the small side. Then one day, you happened.”

  “Me? I don’t understand.”

  “That day, when I stepped in between you and them, things changed. After that, I was no longer a target.”

  Her eyes widened with trepidation but she couldn’t help the questions from tumbling forward. “Oh… so, you all lived in that foster home together?”

  “Yes, but that was more of a halfway house for troubled boys. It’s where they put us while we were between foster families.”

  “Troubled boys…” she repeated, digesting the information, her heart breaking, realizing he had been eight-years-old at the time and already in a home for troubled boys. “What happened next, when I ran into my house to call my mom?”

  “They dragged me inside, started the usual pushing and shoving, but then somehow I snapped. I grabbed the closest one to me and just lost it. I nearly killed him. The others were so shocked, they never came near me again. But of course, by the time the handler showed up, he didn’t see anything but me with my hands around the kid’s neck. After that, I had another black mark on my record. But what the fuck? I hadn’t been adopted yet. I supposed it just wasn’t meant to be.”

  “I’m sorry, Crispin, for any part of it I had. I never got to thank you. I looked for you but never saw you again after that day.”

  “None of it was your fault. It was just a matter of time before something like that happened. In the end, it was for the best since I was deemed dangerous and kept apart from the other kids. They moved me into another house that same afternoon. My reputation travelled with me and let’s just say, no one even looked at me sideways after that.”

  Gwen shook her head unable to fully understand. “I can’t help wondering why you didn’t get adopted when you were an infant. It doesn’t make sense. I always thought there was a huge demand for babies or even toddlers.”

  “Healthy ones, yes, but as my luck would have it, I was born premature, therefore had more than my share of issues. See, that put me at a huge disadvantage.”

  “Oh, were you sick?” Gwen held a hand over her chest, yet again overwhelmed with sympathy.

  “I had something wrong with my heart. Apparently, it was a common issue with preemies, and they fixed whatever it was, but that was enough to scare people off. You see, people don’t want to deal with illness if they can avoid it.”

  Gwen couldn’t fight the tears back if she tried. All she could see in her mind was this tiny helpless baby boy with no one to love him. It was no wonder he was the way he was. On the other hand, he very well could have turned out a lot worse. In fact, she wouldn’t want him any other way. In her eyes, he was perfect. But how in the world had he survived? In her heart, she thanked God for watching over him because it was the only thing she could imagine that might have gotten him to this point. Unable to hold back, she wrapped her arms around him and held him tight. While he allowed the hug, he didn’t return the gesture. She didn’t take it to heart, though. He was trying very hard to keep his composure, so she relaxed her hold on him, sat back and gazed at his troubled face.

  “Please, don’t feel sorry for me.”

  “I… I don’t feel sorry for you as an adult,” Gwen said. “I’m actually in awe of you. But my heart aches for that tiny baby, and that brave boy I never got a chance to know. I would have liked to have thanked him. I would have been his friend. Here, I thought I had it rough. Oh, Crispin, how is it you turned out so well?”

  “You think I turned out well? That’s an interesting perspective.”

  “Seriously, you’re smart, educated, caring, loving and giving. How can someone who’s never received love, give it so freely?”

  “I wouldn’t exactly call it that, as if I have a choice in the matter. Like I said before, never having experienced it left me completely vulnerable. I’ve wanted it so badly, but I didn’t know how to get it. I opened myself countless times to strangers, foster families came and went. With each placement, I hoped I’d find that family or at least one person to call me theirs, but sadly, it wasn’t meant to be. That’s why at the age of six, I decided I was unlovable, simple as that.”

  “I don’t get it.” Gwen refused to accept it. “If they fixed your heart, I assume you were healthy after that. Why didn’t someone adopt you then?” She was so upset, she shook as she spoke. “Why didn’t any of the foster families keep you?”

  “I may have been healthy in all respects, but like I said, people don’t want to get attached to a sick child if they can avoid it. And even though physically I may have been fine, my soul was already damaged, and it showed through my outer shell. I was smaller than most kids my age and quite pale. Neglect will do that to a child, to anyone. As far back as I can remember, I just assumed I was sick. Everyone around me treated me as if I weren’t to live very long. How do you think that feels to an impressionable child? You just start believing it. For the longest time, I thought I had a weak heart, a sick heart.”

  “You’re healthy now, though, aren’t you?” she asked.

  “According to my last physical, I have the heart of a long distance runner,” he said. “How ironic is that? Turns out, I wasn’t sickly at all. I was just led to believe so. The mind is a powerful thing. You can convince yourself of anything if you put your mind to it.”

  “This is all so sad, Crispin.”

  “It’s pathetic, but it’s my reality. Take it or leave it. At least, you know now. I am no literary hero, I am Crispin Clover, of no fixed address. How do you feel about me now?”

  “Makes me love you even more!” she gasped, ignoring the stares from around the pub as she flung her arms around him once again. “If you think any of this makes me love you less, you’re sadly mistaken, sweet Crispin.”

  “Prove me wrong and I’m all yours.”

  Unable to respond, Gwen turned to her food. They ate in silence following that painful revelation. It had been hard to hear, incomprehensible to her. She had never been exposed to such harshness, and the thought of the man she loved having to grow up in such a way broke her heart. She was glad he had opened up to her. It definitely helped to know where he was coming from. He had been afraid it would change her mind about him, but it only reinforced her love for him. He had survived such a crue
l childhood and had grown up to be the man he was. In truth, she had nothing but admiration for his fortitude.

  Crispin chewed his food but tasted nothing. He’d lost his appetite. He was torn, relieved, but nervous at the same time. Gwen’s reaction to his story had surprised him. He had expected her to turn away from him. Who would want to deal with such emotional baggage? Truth be told, he was ashamed and embarrassed to admit to such a pathetic past. Why would anyone want to be with such a pitiful wretch, a worthless stray?

  He hadn’t told anyone about his childhood in such great detail ever before. It was a difficult thing to talk about. He did not want her pity, though. He simply needed her to know so she could decide for herself if she wanted to continue their relationship. While he was glad to have gotten it off his chest, he worried she might change her mind when the initial shock wore off and the information sunk in.

  Pushing her half-eaten plate away, Gwen faced Crispin once again. She took him in with her eyes. None of it made sense. To look at him, you would never know he came from nothing. He had such a regal air about him. Where did that come from? He had such beauty, too. So handsome and fine of features. Everything from his posture to his mannerisms would have you believe he was someone of note.

  “Quit looking for anything beyond the obvious, Gwen,” he said, jarring her from her thoughts. “There is no mystery to me. This is it.”

  “Have you ever wondered who your real parents were?”

  His face turned hard, his eyes narrowing in response to her question. “I care not who they were,” he said through clenched teeth. “Whoever they were, cared not for me.”

  “Sorry I asked,” she said, placing her hand on his knee. Feeling him flinch, she decided to let it go for now.