Promised Soul

by Sandra J. Jackson

  “What did I do?” I whispered to Jason, ignoring the rest of the flight attendant's announcement.

  “Nothing really, I think you called out Thomas.”

  “Was I loud?” I tried not to sound too concerned.

  “It's okay,” Jason reassured me. “You more or less just whispered the name. I don't think anyone else heard you.”

  Soon after, the plane touched down and taxied to the gate. With the last of the announcements over, I unbuckled my belt, and with Jason's help, retrieved my carry-on bag. After waiting patiently for several minutes, I was exiting the plane to begin my new adventure. Butterflies danced in my stomach as I headed into the terminal.

  Fourteen

  Aaron shut his computer down and glanced at the neatly stacked papers on the desk one final time to make sure everything was in place. He had returned late the night before after having been home with his mother, and now he felt a deep sense of urgency to get back. The only reason he was even at his office was to take care of some unfinished business. Now that he had, he was ready to get on the road as quickly as possible. Though his mother's condition hadn't worsened, there was no telling how much longer she had. With one final sweep of his eyes across his desk, Aaron rose from his chair quite satisfied that everything was now arranged, and he was free to leave, though he still couldn't quite shake the feeling that he was missing something. Aaron pushed his chair back into place.

  “Ah, there you are. How's Kate?” Peter asked as he stood in the doorway of Aaron's office, a great look of concern and sympathy on his face for his friend.

  “No change really,” Aaron said wearily.

  “Well, that's good then, right? Perhaps she's not as bad as Doc Brown first thought.”

  Aaron knew Peter was just trying to be positive for him and though at times it drove him nuts, he knew how much his mother meant to Peter as well. He wouldn't be selfish in his feelings as there were others in his life who had been touched by his mother's warmth, sincerity, and kindness.

  Aaron looked at Peter and forced a smile. “Thanks, Peter. I'm sorry I've unloaded much of my work and worries on you this past week. I really couldn't have done it without you. I owe you.”

  “Look no worries. I have others taking over some of your clients the next couple of weeks. Your mum is family to me, too. You know I'll do anything to help. When are you planning to head back?”

  Peter's question caught Aaron off guard. He thought for sure Peter understood that he'd be going back as soon as possible. “I promised Mum that as soon as I left here, I'd be on my way.”

  “Right now? Aren't you picking up a client at the airport?” Peter asked with surprise.

  Aaron rubbed a hand over his face as he remembered Krista. “With everything going on, I completely forgot. Though didn't you just say you'd taken care of everything?” Aaron crossed his arms. He was annoyed both at Peter for leaving his client unattended and at himself for forgetting. He was mostly annoyed at himself though as he never expected to forget about a client, especially one who had kept him so busy.

  “She was the only client I didn't bother with. Since she's staying at Jane's, I assumed you would be taking her. Sorry, mate.” Peter rubbed his brow.

  Aaron noted his friend's exasperation and effort to remain calm. He returned the favour and took a breath before speaking; arguing about it wouldn't solve anything.

  “No, it's not your fault. I should have… Ah well, it doesn't matter.” Aaron looked at his watch. “Her flight should have just arrived and…”

  “I'll take your place; your mum will be fine 'till you get there.”

  An unspoken understanding came between them as Aaron sat back down at his desk, grabbed a pen and notepaper, and wrote hastily. When Aaron finished, he stuffed it in an envelope and sealed it.

  “Here take this to her, it explains everything,” Aaron said handing the sealed envelope to Peter. Peter took the envelope and put it in the pocket of his shirt.

  “Thanks, mate.” Aaron rushed out the door.

  Fifteen

  Having landed on time, I hoped that when I at last made my way through passport control and baggage claim, Aaron would be waiting for me. Finally, after forty minutes, I followed the signs leading the way to the official airport meeting point. It was a short walk to the arrivals hall, where a small crowd gathered and waited for their travelers. I scanned the crowd looking for my name among the few cards still held up by strangers. Slowly, people began leaving with those who had come to pick them up, friends and strangers alike. Ten minutes had passed when I finally noticed someone holding up my name on a piece of cardboard. As I approached, the man holding the cardboard smiled broadly.

  “Krista Adams?”

  He was a handsome, young man with a gleaming smile, full of perfectly white teeth. He had beautiful, bright blue eyes and very short, red hair, not at all, what I'd imagined Aaron to look like. Nonetheless, he was very pleasant looking.

  “Hi, Aaron, it's so nice to finally meet you!” I excitedly extended my hand.

  Within seconds of speaking, I knew I'd been a little overenthusiastic with my greeting as Aaron's eyes widened briefly, before he smiled. He took my hand in his, the warmth and softness surprised me as my hand disappeared into his much larger one.

  “Nice to meet you too, but you should know I'm not Aaron. I am his very good friend and business partner, Peter.”

  I was surprised and a little disappointed. I truly wanted to meet the person who helped make my dream a reality, not to mention he'd promised to pick me up. My feelings reflected in my expression as Peter quickly began explaining the situation, putting my mind at ease.

  “I'm sorry to say that Aaron was not able to meet you due to unforeseen personal circumstances. Rest assured, as Aaron and I are business partners and childhood friends, I am very well acquainted with your situation and know that you will be staying at his aunt's home in Bourton.”

  I stood there; mouth agape, listening to Peter's animated explanation. Realizing he was now staring back at me, I quickly closed my mouth.

  “I see.” No other words came to mind. We stood there awkwardly for another moment before Peter spoke again.

  “Shall we go now or…” His voice trailed off as he stared at me. Finally, he averted his gaze and pointed towards the exit. I instantly snapped out of my trance.

  “I'm so sorry, it's just all so new and exciting and you know, unexpected. I'm a little overwhelmed by everything.”

  Peter nodded, reaching down and taking the handles of my two large suitcases. He mumbled something under his breath as he started to walk away pulling my bags behind him. The bags looked as though they were bursting at the seams, ready to spew out their contents. Puzzled, I continued to stand where he left me, my feet still firmly planted in place. Solicitously, he turned around.

  “Shall we?” he asked me again directing me with a nod of his head towards the exit.

  “Yes, of course,” I said as I adjusted the carry-on bag on my shoulder and hurried to catch up to Peter as he led the way out of the airport, and I quietly followed behind.

  “I must tell you,” Peter began, turning to look back at me, “I am a bit at the back of the car park; I hope you don't mind the short hike.”

  “No, after flying for so long I am glad for the chance to stretch my legs a bit.” We walked along quietly before I felt the need for small talk. “So what kind of car do you drive?” I looked around the parking lot at the seemingly equal amount of familiar and unfamiliar makes and models. I was not one who was very well skilled in the recognition of car makes and models, unless of course the name appeared on the car. I hoped he drove something I could spot from a distance, such as a Volkswagen Beetle.

  “It's a Peugeot 508.”

  “Oh!” It was definitely not anything I'd ever heard of before.

  We continued to walk toward the back of the parking lot. Rather, he walked while I almost had to jog to keep up with him, his stride being much longer.

  “I ta
ke it you've never heard of it before,” Peter said, walking slightly ahead of me.

  “Nope!” I said breathlessly as I slowed down my pace and fell a good five steps behind. Suddenly, Peter stopped ahead of me and turned around.

  “Sorry, I didn't mean to walk so fast.” He waited for me to catch up. When I did, we continued making our way to the back of the lot. He wasn't joking when he said it was a hike. We continued our walk in silence.

  “It's French.”

  “What is?”

  “The car, it's a French make.”

  “Oh! What colour is it?” I looked around as we neared the back of the lot where there were fewer cars, and I hoped his was some uncommon colour that would stand out.

  “Blue, and it's right over there.” He pointed to a metallic blue car about 10 metres away.

  “Perfect, let's get out of here.” Finding a boost of energy, I hastily walked past Peter towards his car. He chuckled behind me, but it was of no concern, I wanted to get out of there and begin my adventure.

  When we had both reached the back of the car, Peter unlocked the trunk with a click of his key fob. He lifted the largest piece of my luggage and placed it in the trunk, a pensive look on his face. He looked at me, and I smiled.

  “I don't think that other one will fit in here, it'll have to ride in the back.” He reached up and closed the trunk, as I started around the side of the car.

  Peter laughed behind me. “If you're going to drive, you might want these,” he said, holding out the keys towards me.

  I was baffled. Why would I drive? I soon realized what he meant as my eyes glanced at the car.

  “Sorry, I forgot your cars are backwards here,” I laughed, walking towards him.

  “Backwards! I'm afraid you have it wrong, your vehicles are the ones that are backwards.” He smiled and winked at me as I walked past him, headed to the other side of the car, and climbed into the passenger side. It felt odd being on what would be the driver's side back home. I jumped slightly at the sound of the driver's door closing. If Peter noticed, he said nothing.

  “All set then?” Peter asked as he buckled his belt, turned the key in the ignition, and began to back out from the parking spot.

  I took a minute before answering, taking it all in as I settled down in my seat.

  “More ready than you'll ever know. Oddly enough, I feel as though I'm home.”

  Sixteen

  It was strange riding in a car on what felt like the wrong-side-of-the-road, but I soon adjusted. Despite my exhaustion from travelling, the exhilaration of finally being in England was enough to keep me awake as we drove towards Bourton. We travelled out of Greater London on a busy four-lane highway and within minutes, we were outside of the city heading northwest. Aside from driving on the opposite side of the road, the scenery didn't look much different from home. I laughed at myself for being so ridiculous.

  “Something funny?” Peter asked; his eyes glued to the road ahead.

  I waved my hand dismissively. “Nothing, I just thought things would look… different.” Not exactly, the word I was searching for, but the only one that came to mind.

  “Different – in what way?”

  “I don't know, maybe I've seen too many movies or pictures or something.” I turned and looked back out the window.

  “Well, I suspect all motorways look similar. I am quite sure you're bound to find places that look nothing at all like home.” Peter said, still staring at the road in front of him.

  We drove in silence for a few more minutes while I took in the sights. Dense bush followed alongside the highway, held back in places by wooden fencing. Occasionally, a farmer's field would come into view. I paid close attention to the road signs as we travelled, eventually spying a sign for Oxford. My interest piqued.

  “Are we driving through Oxford?”

  “Actually we're traveling around. Do you know of Oxford?”

  “Some, only what I've read about and the university, of course.”

  “So, what do you know?” Peter asked testing my knowledge.

  “Just that it's famous for its university. I mean I don't remember what I've read about the city itself.”

  “You'll see a bit of the city as we drive around.” Peter took the next exit. A few moments later, a red double-decker bus passed us from the opposite direction.

  “Now I feel like I'm in England!”

  “Ah! The red-double-decker bus.” Peter looked at me with an amused smile.

  “Well yes, they are kind of iconic, you know.”

  Peter shook his head and continued to drive down the tree-lined, two-lane highway as we ventured further in toward Oxford.

  “This is really pretty!” My excitement was becoming more difficult to contain.

  “Yes, I suppose it is.”

  I looked at Peter, but his eyes never left the road. He certainly was handsome, yet it was difficult to have any sort of real conversation with him, small talk was all we managed. I'd never experienced such awkwardness speaking to someone of the opposite sex before and wondered if it had anything to do with coming from different cultures. He was pleasant enough and except for his long-winded explanation at the airport, he really didn't have much to say. At the very least, I expected he'd explain the sights along the way. Granted, so far there wasn't a whole lot to see on our road trip. Nonetheless, he was a tour guide after all, surely he could tell me about something; maybe even give me a history lesson.

  We drove in silence. My eyes focused on the road ahead while my ears attuned to the quiet hum of the air conditioner. Topics for discussion swirled around in my mind. I opened my mouth to speak but stopped myself. I needed to talk as the silence was becoming uncomfortable. Peter was Aaron's business partner and friend. We were bound to meet again and I didn't want this awkwardness to follow us.

  My mouth opened and I spoke the first words that came to my mind. “So… I meant to ask earlier, how long of a drive is this anyway?” I kept my eyes glued to his profile – studying him.

  “It's about an hour-and-a-half from the airport to Bourton.”

  “That's right, Aaron told me that.”

  “Hmm.” Peter grunted; his gaze firmly attached to the road and both hands glued to the wheel. I was in part glad that he was such an attentive driver – I was relaxed.

  I turned and looked back out the window, resigned that the rest of the trip would be in total silence. Minutes passed, and as I stared at the passing scenery, my eyes began feeling heavy. The hum of the air conditioner was hypnotizing. No sooner had my eyes closed when Peter's voice startled me awake.

  “We're here!”

  “What? Bourton?” I asked a little surprised and dazed, unsure how long I'd actually been asleep.

  “No, Oxford, or rather the outskirts. The 'Welcome to Oxford' sign is just ahead, see there,” he said pointing out the sign as we drove past. I caught a glimpse of it and was delighted to find out that sleep hadn't taken over for very long.

  Within moments, we were entering the city outskirts and finally there were things to see. My eyes absorbed as much as possible as we drove along; drowsiness no longer an issue. My brain adapted to my surroundings as it finally sunk in. My heart thumped with joy at a dream finally realized. My throat clenched, for fear I might squeal like a child. My thumbs twiddled, excited and nervous. My stomach rumbled, loud and embarrassing. My thumbs stopped. My throat opened letting out a small gasp. My heart skipped. My brain distracted. My eyes looked down. Instinctively, my hand flew to my abdomen as if to staunch the embarrassing noises, but it was too late.

  “Are you hungry? We can stop somewhere along the way,” Peter asked, this time he turned to look at me. I felt my ears begin to burn and sensed the redness taking over.

  Great! Why is he looking at me NOW? “No, I'm fine.”

  “Are you sure? It's really no trouble.”

  “No, I can wait till we get to Bourton. I would sooner have something to eat there… so I can get used to the town.” I added quickly as an
afterthought.

  Peter nodded. “Fine, that sounds reasonable; it's not much further. I don't think you'll fade much between now and then.” His blue eyes quickly scanned over me as if trying to gauge whether or not I could last the rest of the drive.

  “Yeah, I'm good.” I turned and looked back out the window just in time, as a sudden warmth washed over my cheeks.

  As we drove along, Peter easily managed the first of six traffic circles that we would encounter, or 'roundabouts' as he called them. Seeing the first one reassured me that I had made the right choice in not renting a car and driving to Bourton myself. It would only have resulted in my driving around in endless circles, no doubt eventually heading off in the wrong direction.

  The dense shrubs and trees sandwiched the road as we left Oxford behind, and a bicycle path followed along escorting us out until it broke away and merged with another road that headed elsewhere. Once more, we were travelling through the countryside, and for a short time, the two-lane highway merged with another road – three lanes heading north. The southbound lanes were only visible wherever dense shrubs and trees were sparse. The landscape continued to change as did the road. Peter and I drove in silence, apart from the few times I asked him about the things I saw.

  Soon after the final roundabout, we made a right hand turn off the highway we'd been travelling on, and Peter announced that we were on the final leg of our journey. The quaint, narrow road seemingly transported us back in time, the pavement being the only thing that gave the true century away.

  Just as I was about to speak, my stomach rudely interrupted with another cacophony of growls, indicating that it would not wait much longer. Peter, who seemed unable to control himself, laughed aloud. I was mortified at first, but soon joined him, especially when Peter's stomach started in on its own rebellion.

  With the resulting giggles finally under control, I returned to paying attention to my surroundings. A small, stone wall covered with what looked like ivy, led the way on the right hand side of the road while trees followed along on the left.