by N L Ardwick
Never Forget You
N. L. Ardwick
Copyright © 2015 N. L. Ardwick
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study,
or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents
Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in
any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the
publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with
the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries
concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.
Matador®
9 Priory Business Park
Kibworth Beauchamp
Leicestershire LE8 0RX, UK
Tel: (+44) 116 279 2299
Fax: (+44) 116 279 2277
Email: [email protected]
Web: www.troubador.co.uk/matador
ISBN 978 1784625 979
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Matador® is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd
Converted to eBook by EasyEPUB
My first novel is dedicated to my parents. Thank you for all the sacrifices you made for me, the love, your endless support and making me believe that I can achieve anything. Without you I would not be where I am today.
Contents
Cover
Love
Part 1
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
Part 2
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
EPILOGUE
Love
….but one cannot, perhaps, love or believe at all if one does not love or believe a little too much.
W.B.YEATS
Part 1
CHAPTER 1
23rd October 1990
It was beginning to get chilly and winter was drawing nearer. Harpreet looked out of the window of her flat. It was dark outside and it was difficult to feel upbeat as the day beckoned. Harpreet had just started a job at a law firm on the other side of town. It was a fresh start for her or so she told herself. She had thought that moving eighty miles from the place she had called home would make her forget the demons which followed her, from which she was not able to free herself. Her mood felt as grey and overcast as the skies outside.
Harpreet was brought up in a strict Asian family. Her parents, although they had emigrated to England from India almost forty years ago, still lived in accordance to the old practices and cultures to which they were accustomed, as did many Asian families in the same position. She recalled how her mother would refuse to watch any of the TV channels except the Asian channels which transported her back to her home land as if she had never left.
Harpreet was born in Birmingham and had spent all of her life there up until now. She had only ever visited India once with her mother and had not stayed long enough to fully appreciate this land which was so alien to her. She had felt guilty that she did not feel as though she belonged. Her mother had already decided that at the grand old age of twenty two she was already getting too old to find a suitable husband. She was told by her grandmother who had seen her for the first time that she was far too skinny and no man would want to marry her.
Harpreet did not take offence. In fact she felt endeared to this old lady whom she had met for the first time. She had been widowed for twenty years, Harpreet’s grandfather having passed away in his early sixties. Since then she had lived with Harpreet’s maternal aunt and passed her days cooking and looking after her grandchildren. Harpreet looked at her grandmother with sadness. She was old now and frail. Harpreet hugged her tightly and turned to look at her once more before she left for the airport. She did not know if she would ever see her again. She would have liked to sit down with her and listen to her tales of a world Harpreet had only heard stories about.
Harpreet was tall and slender and had long black hair which flowed like silk down her back. Her complexion was olive and in Asian culture she was deemed to be fortunate as she had fair skin. She had heard horror stories of girls buying products to lighten their skin or being rejected by a potential suitor because they were too dark.
Harpreet had woken early and eaten breakfast in a leisurely manner. She then had a shower and got dressed. She tied her hair back into a pony tail and then fixed it up into a bun. She was wearing her grey trouser suit today and a white shirt. She sat down at the chest of drawers and applied her make up, looking at herself in the hand mirror which was carefully perched on the top. She noticed the dark circles under her eyes which no amount of make up could cover. Sleep had deserted her, the endless nights reaching out before her until the first light of dawn appeared through the curtains.
The door of the bedroom was opened. Harpreet turned round to see her son Gurmeet standing in the doorway, already dressed in his coat with his satchel slung over his shoulder. He had turned ten only a few weeks before and was growing taller by the day. She noticed that he resembled his father more and more. It was half term and Gurmeet was to be dropped at the childminders’ where he would go in the school holidays.
Harpreet arrived outside the door of Simmons and Jones at five minutes to nine. She looked up at the sign above the office window which had seen better days and had been painted over, erasing the name of a partner who had left some years ago. Harpreet took a deep breath and went into the building. She was met by the receptionist Sylvie, a girl in her twenties whom she noticed was constantly chewing gum. Harpreet greeted her with a smile and asked about her evening. She had made a big effort to be nice to everyone as she was new and she wanted to fit in. She had learnt that it was very important to get on with the secretarial staff or they could make life a misery as more often than not, they would have the bosses’ ear.
Sylvie was not happy this morning. She gave Harpreet chapter and verse as to what had happened the evening before with Matt, her boyfriend (whom Harpreet was familiar with by now even though she had never met him).This time Matt had arranged to take Sylvie out for the evening and had let her down at the last minute and gone out drinking with his friends. After recounting the sad tale, Sylvie burst into tears, her eyes heavy with mascara now looking like something out of a horror film. Harpreet pulled out a tissue from her handbag and handed it to Sylvie who seemed to pull herself together immediately. She held one of her false eyelashes in her hand which had become unstuck in the tears. Harpreet managed to get away with the excuse that she had an urgent letter to prepare.
She went upstairs to her office on the second floor and looked at the pile of post which had been left on her desk. Her room was next to one of the two partners of the firm, Pete Simmons. He was a short man, around five feet five inches tall and carried far too much weight for his frame. Harpreet could hear him bellowing from the next room. He was shouting some sort of abuse at the Trainee Solicitor, Tim. Pete Simmons was a man of little social etiquette and treated everyone whom he came across with contempt. Harpreet decided she would only leave her office when necessary, at least not until lunchtime when she would scurry past and pretend she was taking an urgent call.
She had dictated on most of wha
t had been left on her desk and looking down at her watch, she was relieved to see it was now one o’ clock. She put her mobile phone to her ear and hurried down the stairs. As she passed she noticed the door to Pete Simmons’s room was open and he was having what looked like a strained conversation with the Senior Partner, Edward Jones. Pete Simmons’s face was bright red and he looked as though he was going to explode.
Harpreet went to the café next door. There were not many places to choose from to eat and this was the nearest. She went to the counter and chose a cheese and tomato sandwich from the display of inedible looking food and watched as the shop assistant picked up the sandwich with no hygiene gloves on and placed it on a chipped plate. She ordered a coffee and took her food and sat down just as a young lady came into the café and smiled at her.
She was of Sri Lankan origin and had a dark complexion and short black hair which was cut into a bob. Her name was Amanthi and she was one of the Trainees at the firm. Harpreet liked her. She was a kind person and went out of her way to help. Amanthi sat down at the table opposite Harpreet and pulled out a book form her bag. She told Harpreet what she was reading and seemed very excited as she told the tale of two star crossed lovers who were so in love that they ran away so that they could be together. Harpreet shared Amanthi’s love of books but lately did not seem to be able to concentrate on anything for very long.
The afternoon passed without incident. Harpreet left at 5.30pm and walked out on to the street which was now busy due to the evening rush hour. It was foggy. She looked into the distance and could see the church steeple partly visible against the grey sky. It looked like it was going to rain. Harpreet was not going straight home today. She did not go to her car which was parked around the corner but instead walked towards the town centre which was some fifteen minutes away. Gurmeet was going to a friend’s house for tea and she did not need to collect him until 7.30pm.
Just as she arrived in the town centre, Harpreet turned down a side street and stopped outside a building called Dukes Court. This was her first appointment with Julia, a counsellor. She was nervous as she climbed the stairs to the first floor and rang on the doorbell. The door was opened by a middle aged lady. She was wearing a floral skirt which fell just below her knee and a blue jumper. She wore glasses and had her greying hair tied neatly into a bun.
Julia must have sensed her apprehension and smiled sweetly as if to reassure her. “Hello Dear” she said in a kind voice. “Come in and make yourself at home.” She directed Harpreet to a chair by the window. The room was sparsely furnished with only two chairs and a table with fresh flowers in a vase. Harpreet sat down. Her heart was pounding and her palms were sweaty. She had been given Julia’s number by her friend Dave who had said to her that she really needed to speak to someone about what had happened….about Amy. Dave said it would be easier to talk to a stranger.
Julia said she was not under any pressure to talk about everything today and that Harpreet could take it at her own pace. She asked Harpreet to tell her about herself. Harpreet started to tell Julia about Gurmeet. She liked to talk about Gurmeet and felt happy inside when she told people about him. The hour passed quickly and before she knew it, it was time to leave. To her relief, she felt more comfortable now even though she had not spoken about anything. Julia said it was fine and she could talk about it when she was ready. An appointment was arranged for the following week. As she walked back out onto the street, Harpreet felt that all too familiar weariness. Her heart felt heavy and it took every ounce of her energy to walk back to the car. She wanted to cry. She wanted the pain to go away.
Harpreet sat in the car and waited a while before she turned on the ignition. She was alone now. She started to cry and when she eventually drove the car out onto the street, her tears turned into sobs. She did not care if anyone was looking. If they knew the heavy burden she carried they would understand her grief.
Gurmeet was waiting for her with his bag packed. His eyes lit up when he saw his mother. She felt sorry for him, for what he had been through. It was not his fault. It was not his fault that everything had gone wrong. “Mummy, are you alright?” he asked gently as they walked towards the car. “I am fine son, don’t worry,” she reassured him.
The following day, Friday was quiet in the office. There had been many new arrivals in the past few months and just as many departures. Harpreet thought it was because of Pete Simmons’s intolerable manner. Even though jobs were scarce, it was still difficult to accept the torrent of abuse received at the hands of Pete Simmons. Harpreet needed this job and it was for this reason that she tried not to get upset at the constant criticism which came her way.
When they got back to the flat, Ajay was already waiting for them. Gurmeet got out of the car and ran towards his father. Ajay hugged him tightly, so tightly as if he thought that if he let go Gurmeet would disappear. Ajay looked older, weary even. Sometimes in her own grief, she forgot that he was grieving too. He had lost everything. Gurmeet was now in the car waiting to go home with his father as he did every other weekend. He had now become accustomed to this routine or so she thought. Sometimes it was difficult to read him, as to how he was coping. Ajay walked towards her and asked her how she was. “I’m fine,” she replied. This was the answer he always got. Not the truthful answer as to how she really felt. They had not spoken about it since it happened.
Ajay told her he had rented out the house where they used to live. He could not live with the memories he said. He could not live alone. He had moved back in with his parents until he could get a transfer at work and rent a small flat where Gurmeet could come to stay.
Harpreet suddenly felt a sense of relief. She felt all alone and she was happy for Gurmeet that he would get to see more of his father. “Ajay,” she called as he turned to walk away. “I’m talking to someone, I mean a therapist. I have only seen her once but I feel that it will help me.” He was turning away as she spoke, barely acknowledging what she had said. “Good, I’m glad,” he said and with this he got into the car without looking at her and drove away.
Harpreet got up late on Saturday. She looked at the small clock beside the bed and saw that it was already 10.30am. She had not slept much during the night. When she did sleep, she had disturbing vivid dreams, which were just a reflection of the turmoil in her head. She was waking up most mornings in a sense of panic, feeling that she was losing control, like she was falling down a tunnel faster and faster.
She remembered now that she had seen Ajay the day before and he had been cold towards her. She was alone again with her thoughts. When Gurmeet was with her, she had a temporary solace from the demons in her head. She got up swiftly, opened the curtains and looked outside. It was raining and the sky was grey. It was now the end of November and Christmas would be here in a few weeks.
Just as she finished getting dressed, her mobile telephone rang. It was Dave. She felt relieved at the sound of a familiar voice. “Hey Harp, how are you?” he asked. He sounded upbeat and she sensed that he was not alone. “I’m good Dave,” she replied. He told her that he was on his way to Oxford with Chloe to see her parents. They were having a drinks party that evening. Chloe was Dave’s girlfriend of six months. She came from a wealthy family and was studying a Masters in Archaeology.
“We thought we would drop in to see you if that’s ok?” he continued. She was not really up to having visitors but Dave had been so kind to her that she thought it would be nice to see him. After all, she would have the rest of the day alone.
Dave and Chloe arrived almost an hour later. Dave was dressed in a grey jumper and jeans and his Barbour jacket which he wore quite regularly. He had a slightly olive complexion. His father was white British and his mother was from Morocco. Harpreet had kept in touch with Dave since she had left school. She remembered several girls at school making friends with her because she was friends with Dave. Dave was tall, over six feet and had dark hair which was cut very short. Her parents did not mind her being friends with him as long as she was
not seen out and about with him and they could keep an eye on them if he came to the house.
Dave came in first and said Chloe was parking the car. “Did you go to see Julia?” he asked apprehensively, not knowing how she would react and whether she wanted to talk. “I just thought that I would ask you before Chloe came in. I didn’t think you would want to talk about it in front of Chloe as you have only met her a couple of times.” Just as he had finished speaking, Chloe came into the hallway of the flat. “Hi Harpreet sweetie, how are you?” she asked. She came over and kissed Harpreet on both cheeks. Chloe looked as immaculate as ever. She was a part time model and a good ten years younger than Dave.
Harpreet made tea and the three of them chatted, mostly about work. Dave was an Architect and said he was waiting to hear whether he would be getting a promotion. There was a meeting on Monday to decide his fate. Chloe told her how she had got a modelling assignment in Paris and would be going there for a few weeks in January. Her parents had invited several friends and business associates to the house this evening to celebrate their wedding anniversary.
An hour later, they were gone. Harpreet sat down on the sofa once she had seen them out. She was feeling exhausted. Everything was an effort. She dreaded the evening coming followed by another night when she would not sleep. She decided to go for a walk into the High Street. Maybe a walk outside would help her to settle later on. She wrapped up warm, and even so she still felt a chill as she stepped outside the door. The High Street was quite busy as on any other Saturday. The Christmas decorations sparkled in the shops inviting people in to buy things.