Cinnamon Twigs

by Darren Freebury-Jones

  A figure moved past me - a man, tall and sinewy. The gentle sunlight revealed years of worries and loneliness on his brow. But his blue eyes retained a youthful sparkle. He stopped for a brief moment to gaze at my mother’s house, which projected a deep shadow on the pavement.

  The man’s face looked familiar. I couldn’t remember when or where I’d seen him. But I’d definitely gazed into those blue eyes before. He smiled sadly at me. And then that smile, that brief moment, floated away, forgotten for many years to come.

  I made my way back to my flat, hoping to make things right. The pleasant weather did nothing for my nerves, as I prepared to tell Lauren I’d been unfaithful. If God were real, he’d look down at me unfavorably. All I could do was hope and pray that Lauren wouldn’t leave me, that we had a future together. I hoped. I prayed.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  The Museum

  Lauren left me, of course. She shouted, cried and hit me with a torrent of blows. She’d finished her education at Cardiff, but she didn’t go back to Salisbury. She moved out of our flat and in with a friend. I told her I’d move out but she insisted that she be the one to leave. She couldn’t stand being near any trace of me. This wasn’t like her drunkenly kissing Fred. Sleeping with my ex, sober, after merely bumping into her… What the hell was I thinking? There were no long moments of silence. Periods where I could have a contemplative fag in the garden. I told her what happened, she told me to fuck off, and then packed her stuff and left. She was so strong in her pain. So resolute. I didn’t think I could ever change her mind, make her realize how sorry I truly was. How sure I was that neither of us would ever have to jump over the hurdle of cheating again after this.

  I didn’t deserve to win her back, but I couldn’t live without her. Booze offered no solace as I spent my evenings stumbling in and out of bars. Drinking just depressed me more. Each night, Lauren visited my drunken dreams. Each painful morning, I clung to the bed sheets, wishing she still lay beside me. But I’d lost her. I’d lost her smile, her pretty blue eyes and her cuddles. Waking up and knowing that was such a horrible feeling. I had to win her back.

  I followed her everywhere, begging her to speak with me. But she refused each time. I’d broken her heart, and I could tell how much she’d been hurting inside when livid tears appeared in her eyes.

  I was sitting in Gorsedd Gardens, under the shade of Lord Ninian Edward Crichton’s statue, gazing at the sunbathing students. They were all so bloody happy. It felt like a lance was being thrust between my ribs whenever I heard them giggling. Newlyweds stood in front of the fountains, having their photographs taken, smiling for the cameras on that picturesque day. Butterflies cleaved the air, seeking their favorite plants or scuffling with incensed bumblebees.

  I remembered the first time I’d spoken to Lauren. And now she’d left an icy trail running through the sunny Gardens. She would become a memory, a vague figure from the past, unless I could win her back.

  Suddenly, I caught sight of Lauren walking up the worn steps of Cardiff Museum.

  I followed her.

  She’d come to Gorsedd Gardens, like me, to remember old times. She quickened her pace, evading me. But I wasn’t going to give up. We had to talk.

  Lauren made her way into a room exhibiting dinosaur fossils. The room was warm and dimly lit, a cavernous dragon’s cave filled with lurking shadows and unknown horrors. The sounds of a prehistoric rainforest echoed across the exhibits, evoking images of towering Cretaceous trees and groaning monsters. Lauren moved past a model of a woolly mammoth and stopped to read a board concerning something called a Procompsognathus, which existed in the Triassic period. I stood behind her. She pretended not to see me. Instead, she fixed her eyes on a little girl. The girl tried to run faster than a series of flashing footprints on the ground, showing how fast a dinosaur could run.

  ‘Mummy, the Galimimus is faster than me!’ the girl squealed cleverly.

  ‘I came here on a trip with my parents when I was little,’ Lauren whispered. ‘I used to race the footprints as well.’

  My heart pounded. Those words had been addressed to me, even though Lauren kept her eyes on the child.

  ‘Why don’t you try racing them now?’ I whispered in her ear.

  ‘I’m not a little girl anymore.’

  ‘Lauren, please let me talk to you.’

  ‘I am, aren’t I?’

  ‘I love you.’

  ‘That’s just not true.’

  ‘Of course it’s true!’

  ‘If you loved me, you wouldn’t have cheated on me.’

  ‘You used to say that I’m a fool sometimes.’ I turned her around so I could look at her face.

  ‘I meant on the stage,’ she said.

  ‘Yeah, I know. But I’m the picture of a fool right now. I did a very stupid thing, and I’ll regret hurting you until the day I die.’

  ‘I don’t know if I can trust you.’

  ‘I will never hurt you again,’ I said. ‘Please, come back to me. Please. You’re the only girl I care about.’

  ‘And what about your ex?’

  ‘I want you, not her. I don’t know why I hurt you. I guess I suddenly found myself caught up in the past…’

  ‘Well, we’re in a museum now.’ Lauren turned away from me. ‘The past is all around us. Maybe we should leave our relationship here.’

  ‘Please, babes. I honestly don’t know if I can live without you.’

  ‘I don’t believe you.’

  ‘Look into my eyes.’ I desperately tried to turn her back. ‘Look into them.’

  She fixed her sad eyes on mine.

  ‘I will never cheat on you again. I will love you forever. I’m nothing without you.’

  ‘How can I trust you?’

  ‘I don’t know. But I swear I’m telling the truth. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.’

  ‘You want to spend the rest of your life with me? Prove it.’

  ‘Marry me.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Marry me.’

  ‘Oh, God! Don’t even joke about something like that! You think that proposing to me is going to win me back…’

  ‘Maybe it won’t. All I know is that I want to be with you forever. I want to marry you.’

  The tears fell from her eyes like heavy rain.

  ‘Please, Lauren.’ I kissed her. ‘I’ve surrendered. I’m yours. Every part of me belongs to you. No matter where I am or where you are, no matter what surprises or challenges life brings, I’ll always be yours because you’re all I could ever want. I loved the days and nights we spent together, the arguments, the resolutions, the playful banter - everything we were and should be.’

  ‘You really mean it?’

  ‘I really do. I’m so sorry for what I did to you.’

  Her brinish tears touched my cheeks as she kissed me.

  ‘Then I’ll marry you, Silly Billy’ she said.

  My heart leapt smilingly. Everything was as it had been, as it should be, and I felt a sudden urge to skip around the exhibits. I don’t know what I would have done if Lauren hadn’t come back to me. Nothing could be more wonderful than spending the rest of my life with her.

  We held hands and made our way to the planetarium, kissed under the constellations: Cassiopeia, Andromeda, Perseus. That was the best kiss I’d ever had, her hair soft against my cheek, the motions of the heavens encircling us. Asterisms: Ursa Minor, Orion’s Belt, Hercules’s Club. A perfect celestial scene.

  I soon bought Lauren a beautiful diamond engagement ring. Emerald cut. I worked bloody hard to earn the money to pay for it, but my princess deserved everything she got.

  I had to tell my mother that Lauren and I were engaged. I knocked her door on a hot afternoon. I waited, my heart pounding in my chest, until she opened the door and stared at me. She didn’t say anything. She just stood there in silence.

  ‘Can we talk?’ I asked her.

  ‘C-come in.’

  She made me a cup of coffee and we sat on the
sofa.

  ‘How have you been?’ I breathed in the tendrils of steam rising from my cup.

  ‘I’ve been okay, I guess. But I think I may have heart disease or something. I can feel it in my chest, stirring. But I haven’t been to see a doctor.’

  I nodded, accustomed to my mother’s hypochondria.

  ‘Why did you come to see me?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m really sorry that we stopped talking.’

  ‘Well, you abandoned me, you bastard!’ Her eyes burned fiercely.

  ‘I’m sorry, mum.’

  ‘Maybe I’m partly to blame.’

  ‘Maybe, but I’ve been blind and selfish.’

  ‘Let’s just forget about it.’

  ‘Yeah, I think that’d be the best thing to do.’

  ‘It hurt. I’ve waited every day for you just to give me a call or pop down, Dan.’ She looked down at her coffee cup.

  ‘I’m back now. And I won’t abandon you again. I promise.’

  I could tell she’d struggled without me as we spoke about what she’d been doing in my absence. It didn’t matter what she had said or how much it had hurt. She cared for me. Looked out for me.

  ‘I have something to tell you,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘I’m getting married.’

  A moment of silence. My mother’s face betrayed no reaction.

  ‘To who?’ she finally asked.

  ‘Lauren, of course!’

  ‘So, you’re still together.’

  ‘Yeah, still together.’

  ‘Don’t you think you’re a bit too young to be thinking about marriage?’ She placed her coffee cup on the floor.

  ‘No. It feels right.’

  ‘You may regret it at some point down the line. You really are very young, very young to the world. Do you really think that she’s the one?’

  ‘Every waking moment, every thought I have - it’s all for her. I love her.’

  ‘Love can be blinding, trust me.’

  ‘I’ve got my other senses. I know. In my heart, I know.’

  ‘You sound like such a bloody thespian.’ She smiled cheerfully, but dejection dwelt somewhere in her expression.

  ‘I wanted you to know.’

  ‘When are you looking to get married?’

  ‘Next summer, hopefully.’

  ‘Am I invited?’

  ‘Of course you are, don’t be silly!’ I chuckled.

  ‘I thought you’d come back, but you’re flying the nest for good.’

  ‘I’ll always be here for you. I promise you. I’ll never leave you again.’

  ‘Please keep that promise, because the thought of losing you again really hurts.’

  My mother had conveyed emotion, a rare moment that touched me.

  I hugged her.

  ‘Get off me, you soppy bugger!’ She laughed.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  The Wedding

  Lauren and I decided to get married at St Mary’s Catholic Church, where I’d been baptized. Everyone in Cardiff knew Father Dwyer, especially the pub landlords. Father Dwyer was renowned for his kindness, as well as his frequent intoxicated states during Mass. He was a very intelligent man, although he often tripped over his words. I had the utmost respect for him, even though I liked to joke about his drinking habit. He’d been a member of the clergy for a long time.

  ‘Do you believe in Christ’s ascension into heaven?’ He smiled at Lauren and me as we sat in front of him, discussing the proposed marriage.

  ‘Of course,’ I said.

  ‘That Jesus died for our sins?’

  ‘Yup. That too.’

  ‘As an expiatory offering on account of our wrongdoings, pierced for our transgressions?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘Do you believe in the Immaculate Conception?’

  ‘Now that’s the bit I’ve always found questionable,’ I jested.

  ‘Really?’ Father Dwyer arched his eyebrows, revealing the deep wrinkles on his forehead.

  Lauren fixed me a stony look and nudged me in the ribs.

  ‘What are you nudging me for?’

  ‘He’s only joking, Father. He’s a bit of a joker, my Daniel.’ She took my hand in hers and squeezed it hard.

  ‘Ah, bit of humor never hurt anyone.’ He grinned, stood up and said goodbye to us, remarking as Lauren exited, ‘“So light a foot will ne’er wear out the everlasting flint.”’

  ‘I see you’re familiar with your Shakespeare, Father,’ I said. ‘Funnily enough, Romeo and Juliet happens to be her favorite play.’

  ‘Indeed. I don’t just read John Donne, you know.’ A sparkle appeared in the old man’s eyes.

  I grinned. It’s always nice to exchange a wanky literary joke with the priest who ducked your head in water when you were a nipper.

  A shadow passed over Lauren’s face as we exited the church.

  ‘I can’t believe you were acting like that!’ she said.

  ‘Ah, come on, I was just winding you up.’

  ‘You wanted this wedding to take place here as well, you know.’

  ‘Of course. He didn’t seem to mind, anyway. The bloke’s pissed most of the time. Just look at the way he parks his car.’ I pointed at an old banger taking up two spaces outside the church. ‘He parks horizontally!’

  My wedding day was the best day of my life. I’ve never felt so complete as when I kissed Lauren’s soft lips, while our family and friends applauded. A spark of unadulterated happiness passed through the air as I gazed into her beautiful blue eyes, and Father Dwyer smiled at us with his lazy drunken eyes. I placed my hands on Lauren’s shoulders, the fabric of her gorgeous white wedding dress slipping through my fingers.

  ‘You may now kiss a bride,’ Father Dwyer garbled.

  I remember it well. Lauren’s pearly smile and the first violin playing the opening bars of Pachelbel’s Canon. Exhilaration surged through my veins. I recognized that life is lived for those warm moments, the moments of happiness that transcend the bad and stay with us, until death forces us to part with them.

  I acknowledged our guests’ congratulations. A crowd congregated near the entrance of the church. Lauren spoke to her friends and family. I found my mother among the cheery faces and embraced her.

  ‘I wish you the best of luck in your new life.’ She searched my eyes for a moment, and turned away with a teary expression on her face.

  ‘Love you, mum.’

  ‘I know.’ Her wet eyes told me she was happy for us. ‘Good to you, I am.’

  ‘Indeed you are.’ I beamed.

  Just before we left the church to be greeted by buckets of confetti, I held Lauren in my arms and looked up at the statue of Jesus hanging above the altar. The stained glass windows admitted a warm light, which lingered on Christ’s face. I took the whole church in, from the marble arches to the font. I wanted to remember it all forever.

  ‘What are you looking at? You’re very strange!’ Lauren giggled.

  ‘What does that tell you about yourself then?’

  ‘I must be just as strange to marry you.’

  ‘One hand, one heart, one strange couple!’ I giggled. ‘I think it’s time to take note of Father Dwyer’s example, and get very drunk.’

  The wedding party was a haze of hilarity and blazing emotions. My maudlin mother spent the night arguing with everyone that she wasn’t a hypochondriac, because she could genuinely sense she had terminal cancer. After all, she was a healthcare expert, working behind a till at a local pharmacy… She attached herself to me for the rest of the night, burbling, ‘I loves you much, Daniel, I do. Look after me when I’m gone. Dunno how long I’ve got left…’ She’d had far too many double vodkas, but so had everyone else. Guests stumbled into chairs and tripped onto tables. Lauren’s dad, a stout, affectionate man, shook my hand vigorously throughout the night and at one point offered me a tenner, saying, ‘Go on, son. You deserve it for taking her off my hands!’

  ‘I’ve taken far too much money off you alread
y, Mister Caldwell. But I’m sure she’s worth more than that!’ I laughed.

  ‘For God’s sake, Daniel, call me Rich! You make me feel like your teacher, not your father-in-law… Now, down to serious business. What do you think the best nine and ten combination would be for the Lions’ tour?’

  Pints smashed, people said ‘Yay!’ and the poor barmaid swept up the broken glass.

  ‘Yay!’ I exclaimed, after dropping my own pint, despite telling people to be more careful with their drinks.

  Towards the end of the night, Lauren and I danced to Eric Clapton’s definitive love song, Wonderful Tonight. We struggled to stand, never mind dance. But we stayed in each other’s arms as the softly lit room orbited us.

  ‘I love you, completely, utterly, unalterably, immeasurably love you,’ I said.

  ‘That’s a very concise description.’ She grinned, her eyes wide and oceanic.

  My face hurt from smiling so much. I couldn’t help it. I spent the night looking like I had an upside down clothes hanger in my mouth. Lauren and I stopped dancing when my mother joined us for Bob Marley’s Is This Love with her maniacal attempt at a moonwalk. She bopped away like a lunatic with an itchy arse.

  I led Lauren over to a table in the corner of the room. I stroked her hair and we kissed.

  Warm tears gushed from her eyes and onto my cheeks.

  ‘I’m so happy,’ she whispered.

  ‘Me too. I love the fact I’m gonna spend the rest of my life with you.’

  ‘You’ve gotta look after me.’

  ‘Likewise.’

  She took my right hand in hers and ran a delicate finger down the forked life line on my palm.

  ‘This, right here, is true happiness. This moment. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.’ I kissed her eyelids and then both corners of her lips.

  ‘Come on. Let’s dance again. Your mother has fallen asleep on the buffet table.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  The Honeymoon

  We went to Elounda, in Crete, for our honeymoon. Everything just felt so right. I know it sounds pretentious, like predetermined destiny bullshit, but Lauren was definitely the one. She was meant for me. I’d never felt so sure about anything in my whole life.