A Different Reflection

by Jane L Gibson

  “Hell Kat, I do think you need sleep. I was only joking!” he replied.

  “Well don’t! I’m going to go to bed, I am not in the mood for arguing!” I informed him. In a bid to avoid too much more aggravation, I leant over and kissed him.

  “I’m just going to chill for thirty minutes, I will be in soon. Have a good sleep babe!” he said with no feeling and without his eyes leaving the TV screen.

  I wandered to our bedroom, shut the door and leant against it. ‘Babe’ – I was definitely going to have to pull him up on that word. It was starting to really annoy me. I brushed my teeth and climbed into the remarkably smaller bed. As soon as my head touched the pillow, I was dead to the world.

  Thursday was fairly insignificant. I had now started the new story and had done some background work before the interview tomorrow. The day rolled on into a normal workday, and the time flew by faster than I could have hoped for. I had to admit to myself that I was looking forward to seeing James and George tomorrow; not just because the whole situation of a spell had me hooked, but they did actually seem to be very genuine, lovely people. I smiled at the prospect of spending more time with them. I rode home on the tube and whilst trying to imagine James with any one of my single friends, I almost missed my stop. When I turned the key in the apartment lock, I suddenly realised that I couldn’t remember the walk from the tube; I was completely wrapped up in this fairy tale. More than anything, I was trying to imagine the whole situation of a witch being present and casting a spell. How would I ever be able to convince anyone else that this was all true? I would have to let them see James first and then explain; otherwise I was going to end up sounding like I had completely lost it. John had been home and changed into casual clothes for a business ‘football match meeting’ – his company had a private box. I knew that this was going to be another long and lonely night in. His note on the island made it quite clear that he was not in any rush to get home until he had closed the deal. I looked in the fridge, but decided that I couldn’t be bothered cooking, so I ordered a pizza.

  I felt remarkably tired again, and as I laid on the sofa hugging a cushion and mindlessly watching something on BBC 1, I hadn’t realised that I had drifted off to sleep until I woke breathless and startled. I had been dreaming that I was at Northfield and I couldn’t get out; I was running and running, and James was calling me. I could see George, but could never get to him, and then I smashed all the mirrors, thinking it would help James, but he simply disappeared and then George burst into a million tiny particles that all blew away in the air. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. That dream had been so vivid. I clutched the cushion tighter to my chest, calmed my breathing and realised that I really did care about helping them both and about what was going to happen to them. I looked at the clock; it was 10.15pm, so I switched the television off and put all of my notes away and decided it was bedtime. With glass of water in hand, I dozily walked to my bedroom and sank into bed, hoping that I would not have any more dreams as vivid as that one was.

  Friday’s tube ride to work was as expected: hot and crowded. There was nowhere to sit and then it was hard work fighting to get through everyone in the crowds. I reached the office in desperate need of a coffee. As I had arrived a little earlier I had beaten Claire, so I made her a drink, knowing that she would not be far behind me. At the usual Friday morning meeting I made a slightly poor excuse (and lie) for not getting anywhere with the intended Northfield story, but really pushed the new lead, which seemed to be taken well. I walked out of the meeting feeling relieved that for now I could carry on doing my job whilst on the side lines continuing to help George and James, knowing no one here was any the wiser. By the time I had grabbed a quick salad for lunch, it was time to go and interview Frances Holt, so I grabbed the car keys off Michelle at reception and took the spare car for the weekend.

  The ride out to Mrs Holt’s residence was easier than expected. She greeted me at the door and was most accommodating, giving me a wealth of knowledge about what she was trying to achieve. I was very impressed with her passion, motivation and generosity for helping returning soldiers rehabilitate back to some normality. She had a group of around four or six of them at a time, booking a multitude of activities for them as and when they felt they wanted to participate. She then helped them relearn the art of simple relaxation and talking to each other. She cooked all of the meals, did their laundry, and as her home was a large six-bedroom house with a swimming pool, there was certainly no reason to not enjoy it here. At the moment she was having a week’s break and so she invited me to come back in a week’s time when her new group of soldiers had then had the opportunity to settle in. She thought that I may like to get their opinion on what she was trying to achieve, which was all free of charge. After a couple of hours interviewing her, I made arrangements for the week after and asked if she would mind a photographer coming with me to take some pictures of her and the house and, if they agreed, some of the soldiers that she was trying to help. She was in agreement, and I came away feeling like the story was definitely not going to let me down in any way.

  Slowly, because of the traffic, I made my way to Northfield, and as I arrived I yawned slightly. I was mentally tired today; I had achieved a lot and although I had slept well last night, I still felt tired. I closed the car door and then ran up the stairs to the cover of the entrance, as the rain had again started to fall. I pulled the bell handle and waited for George. I was surprised that he was not ready for my arrival, but then I realised that I was a little early – it was only 5.20 pm. The heavy door creaked open and George’s happy smile greeted me.

  “Katharina, quickly – do come in. This weather is terrible!” he announced as I skipped in through the door and past him.

  “George, are you well?” I asked as he took my coat.

  “Indeed. I was just organising a bite to eat for us.”

  “Oh lovely, I am sorry that I am a little early. I was finished with my last appointment faster than expected!” I confirmed.

  “It is no problem at all. Come, let’s get you a warm drink.” He gestured for me to walk toward his apartment. As I neared the large mirror in the hallway with my reflection, I stood for a second and thought about James. Then, like fog had been lifted, I was no longer reflected and there he was.

  “James, how are you feeling today?” I smiled as I realised that I still had the ability to see him.

  “I am very well thank you, are you Katharina?” he asked of me. I looked him up and down and then smiled and continued walking.

  “I am, thank you for asking!” I replied as I grinned, knowing that he had definitely made an effort for my visit. His hair was brushed and neat, and his clothes less shabby; his shirt was tucked into his breeches. He looked different and I wondered how long it must have been since he last made any effort for anyone other than George. We arrived at the apartment and I could smell beef and onions and gravy. “George, I hope you have not gone to too much trouble?” I asked. “I thought you were just making a small bite to eat – you know, light refreshment?”

  “No trouble gone to, it is only some roast beef. I am going to make us hot beef sandwiches and they should be ready in about half an hour,” he then informed me.

  “Well it smells delicious!” I happily stated as he poured me a coffee. I perched on a chair at the island.

  “One thing George has got very good at is the ability to cook!” James suddenly announced.

  “Well, unfortunately I have had to, as you are unable to do anything for me!” George replied.

  “Not by choice, I hate to point out!” James remarked.

  “I never thought about that; anything we have on this side you can have on your side – like George’s lovely cooking, or a coffee or a newspaper – but it cannot be done in reverse?” I asked inquisitively.

  “I wouldn’t want to eat any attempt James had at cooking!” George laughed.

  “Yes, alright, laugh as much as you like! I would do it if I could, but alas I cannot
!” James unhappily said. I tried not to laugh as George chuckled to himself.

  “I can understand your frustration; it’s terrible not to be able to do anything for yourself!” I sarcastically smiled; James shot me a look of annoyance.

  “Don’t you start, I have enough with George reminding me on a regular basis. Maybe we should have limited the mirrors George, then you may have felt like I was not around quite as much!” he said with irritation.

  “Oh, so you had most of the mirrors put up then? There are a lot!” I remarked.

  “Well, I realised when I put a long mirror in here that James could somehow come to this mirror, so we tried getting more to see if he had the ability to move all over the house. In fairness, it gives him more chances to be a part of things here!” George said sincerely.

  “Maybe to his detriment!” James then stated as he smiled at George.

  “I wouldn’t have had it any other way, Master James!” George simply replied.

  “Really, Master? I think we are long past that George – I am thirty and this is a new era!” he answered.

  “Well technically you are 294 years old, so actually you could be considered for the Guinness World Records!” I laughed.

  “Not before George!” James smiled as he raised his eyebrows at him.

  “Alright, alright, enough about my age. I am sure Katharina has other pressing things to discuss!” George quickly changed the subject and gestured for me to speak.

  “Yes indeed, let me just get my notes.” I put my coffee mug down and quickly reached into my bag. I placed my notepad on the island and then flicked to the relevant page of notes that I had made with regards to my single friends. “Okay, unfortunately my bank of single friends is not that large, but to start with I have four that I think could be possible contenders: Claire, Rachel, Kate and Lisa. It’s not a lot to start with, I know, but I thought maybe if you agree, James, I could bring them over for dinner with the intention of either meeting my new friend George – or, a couple of them are rather wealthy, so there’s always the prospect of selling the leasehold?” I reported.

  “Well, sounds like a plan to me. What do you think, James?” George asked.

  “You would be happy to introduce your friends to me, after knowing my past?” James enquired.

  “That’s exactly what it is – your past. Do you not feel that you have changed in any way?” I asked.

  “Yes, I have changed remarkably, but still these are your friends!”

  “Well two are, definitely, but two I haven’t seen in a while. I think if anything, after all this time, your calmness at your situation shows strength of character, James, I would be happy for them to meet you!” I smiled.

  James stopped for a minute, then looked across at George and back to me. I could tell that he may have felt slightly uncomfortable with the fact that I was almost setting him up with blind dates; after all, his last experience with a woman he didn’t know very well did not end in his favour. I waited for a response and looked across at George, who shrugged at me.

  “Very well! Let us start next week if you can arrange it: dinner here with whoever you think we have the best chance of a result. I will try not to be dismissive instantly,” he said with caution.

  “Great, okay, I will start with Claire, my work colleague. She is single, twenty-seven years old, brunette, about five foot five, very slim but lots of fun. I am sure she would love to come – she was very jealous when I told her about George!” I remarked.

  “Maybe I could get her to fall in love with me!” he said sarcastically.

  “That really is not going to help our situation, now is it George!” James laughed.

  “Fair point. Let’s eat – I need to get these sandwiches prepared, shall we just eat here?” George asked.

  “Here is fine!” I replied, just as James said, “Here is good!” We both smiled that we answered at the same time.

  The hot beef sandwich with onion gravy, chips and salad was truly delicious. I cannot say that I ate it in a completely ladylike way – it wasn’t easy, with gravy dripping off my fingers, and with it being so damn delicious. It caused us all to laugh; I must have looked like I hadn’t eaten for a week. I licked my fingers and then used my fork to finish my salad.

  “George, you are really going to have to stop making such yummy food, I am seriously thinking of getting you to come and live with me! That was so, so good!” I informed him.

  “It looked like it was good!” James smiled sarcastically. I threw my linen napkin at the mirror.

  “You’re lucky that you’re behind that mirror, I would have been tempted to hit you for that remark!” I laughed.

  “I would like to see you try!”

  “Ooh, one day you will not be able to say that without it having some consequence!” I remarked.

  “Indeed, and I like to see a good appetite on a woman. Food is to be enjoyed!” George stated.

  “Thank you George!” I replied as I gathered our plates, including the one that sat at the end of the island opposite James with its sandwich still intact. I looked at it curiously.

  “I know; it is strange isn’t it? She made the spell completely confusing – trust me, it took us some time to work it out. Even though when we see James in the mirror and not ourselves, food and drink and other items still end up as a reality on his side of the mirror, even though it looks like a reflection, nothing in front of you changes on this side of the mirror. I can understand your expression – you have only had a couple of days of this, we have had 264 years! I think that you are grasping things really well!” George stated.

  “I just feel like I am wrapped up in a Disney film or something!” I replied with disbelief.

  “Come on, let us retire to the lounge with a drink!” George then insisted as he topped up my wine glass.

  His lounge was small and cosy and, as expected, there was a mirror on every wall. I kicked off my shoes and then gestured to George that I would like to curl up in the large armchair. “May I?” He simply replied with “Please do,” and as I sat I felt contently full and very, very, comfortable.

  “So, you must have at least one funny story whilst you have been in this predicament that you can enlighten me with. Or, better still, some scandalous gossip from the 1700 or 1800s. I cannot begin to imagine what you must have seen and heard over the years!” I excitedly announced. Being a journalist, I have always loved a good story from any era.

  George looked at James and then at me. He took a sip from his wine glass and then said, “How scandalous do you want it to be?” I raised my eyebrows at him and leaned forward slightly.

  “Really? You have scandalous gossip from way back then? Oh I am so intrigued – I want to hear it all!” I remarked. James simply gestured for him to continue.

  “Please do go ahead, as long as it does not include me!” James answered with sarcasm.

  “Well feel free to chip in anytime!” George replied to James, and then, like the beginning of a fairy tale, he began:

  “It was the year 1728…”

  As the clock ticked on, and the stories continued, I gasped, laughed, and was shocked, surprised and disgusted with the stories that ensued. I had no idea that that era could have been quite so scandalous, incestuous and completely and, unbelievably, as unromantic as I ever could have imagined. I was wrapped up in their tales of debauchery, seduction, crime and lies, but at the same time utterly disappointed that the romance of all the stories and fairy tales I had fantasised about from times past, were just that – fairy tales – and the likelihood of happily ever after was a mere myth.

  As George went to get us a coffee after his last tale for the evening, and I laughed with James about the stories they had told me, I looked at the time and was shocked to realise that it was now nine o’clock. I stretched from my comfortable chair and then happily took the coffee from George as he reappeared. I was fast becoming addicted to spending time with them both. I found George utterly charming – he was sincere and kind – and Ja
mes, although he had once been a rogue, he appeared to be a very different person now. He did not feel worthy of anything, it seemed; he realised his mistakes and I was sure that he felt he deserved his predicament. I, however, could not help but feel sorry for him. He had missed being with his friends and family, and time had passed him by in a torturous way. I was happy that I had the ability to see him, because right there in that moment, as I looked at him in the mirror, I wanted nothing more than to help him; my new mysterious – and handsome, I might add – acquaintance.

  Chapter Ten

  After telling John that my appointment had run over and I had been stuck in traffic, I managed to get away with not explaining that I had spent most of the evening with George and James. The weekend involved a dinner on Saturday with work colleagues of John’s and quite frankly it was hard work and very tiresome. Stocks, shares, mergers and advertisement campaigns for large clients were not my cup of tea. Nonetheless, I tried to look interested and commented on things that I could understand. All the while, my mind kept drifting back to helping James and trying to break a spell over two hundred years old. It was so hard to believe; even though I could see James, I definitely still felt like I was in a Disney movie.

  By the time Monday morning had arrived, I could not wait to get to the office to see Claire, my first innocent pawn in this elaborate game of matchmaking. As I sat and turned on my computer, Angela came by my desk.

  “Hey Kat, read the first draft copy of your story. Can’t wait to read the finalised draft. Sounds like an amazing woman!” she commented.

  “Indeed she is, I think it will bring a smile to most people’s faces when they read about her completely amazing selfless acts!” I replied. She nodded and walked away as she read the paperwork she had collected from the reception.

  A mug of coffee suddenly appeared on my desk with a blueberry muffin that was warm and smelt so sweet and fresh that my mouth started to salivate.