Jim was standing in the lounge, leaning on the mantle when she entered the room. He looked up and met her gaze. She couldn’t read the emotion she saw there. Was it regret? Was he about to ask her to stay?
Staying as calm as she possibly could, she kept eye contact. “Right…I’ll be going. You don’t have to put up with me any longer,” she stated coldly.
“It was no bother really.” His smile did not arrive at his eyes.
She turned to leave but stopped with her back to him. “Just answer me one thing, Jim… Why did you make love to me last night?” Tears of anger combined with hurt welled in her eyes, causing her vision to blur.
Jim frowned as he stood up straight, his fists clenched by his sides. “You were leaving anyway, Felicity. You have a life to go back to.” His frown deepened. “And…isn’t…isn’t that how you and I say goodbye?” She turned to look at him. He actually looked confused. She took a deep breath. Revenge. Of course. It was revenge. How cold and calculating could a man be?
“You…you bastard,” she whispered. “I never thought you were the kind of person to keep score. You’ve been waiting for this opportunity…haven’t you?” She began to physically shake. The tears overflowed but she didn’t care anymore.
He held his hands up in surrender and stepped toward her. “No…no, Flick. That’s not—”
“Save your breath, James,” she interrupted, uninterested in any pathetic explanation he had to offer. “That’s how you want to play it? Fine. I’ll be sure not to think of you when I’m in New York. I mean…why would I waste my time?” She opened the door and stormed out without looking back.
~~~~~
Jim stood frozen to the spot. He was completely baffled. What the fuck just happened? He couldn’t understand her reaction. She didn’t love him…did she? No! She had left him. She only came here out of guilt! Last night was about history and pent up feelings of lust…it was about goodbye…not love. He snapped to his senses and was determined to stomp to the car and have this out with her. She left me, for fuck’s sake! How dare she act like I’m the one in the fucking wrong? When he arrived at the curb, she was half way up the road, driving much too fast. He watched until she was out of sight and then he went back inside and slumped onto the sofa.
“I just don’t get it,” he told Jasper. “She left me and now I feel like shit? I just don’t understand, Jasper. We both wanted that intimacy last night. I’ve been fucking dreaming about her, for fuck’s sake. I could tell she wanted it, too. Just sex…that’s all she wanted. She made it clear when she left me the first time that she didn’t love me,” he rambled at the dog who looked on with his ears back as if unsure how to react to his master’s loud voice.
Jim wandered around all day trying to figure out what on earth had gotten into Felicity. He vacuumed, scoured, scrubbed, and did several loads of laundry. Still he couldn’t figure out a plausible reason for her behaviour. It’s not as though she came here to win me back. He snorted at the thought. He decided to take Jasper for another long walk.
The snow was all but gone. But it was a bitterly cold day. Jim and Jasper walked up to the viewpoint he had shown Felicity. He felt sad as he looked out across the valley. She had left the painting propped up against the wall in his guest room. She obviously didn’t want it after all that work. But it was beautiful. He wanted to hang it but felt sure that he would be overtaken by sadness whenever he looked at it. Just as he was when he looked out at the real thing now.
He returned to the house after an hour and a half of brisk walking in the cold January air. The lounge was chilly. After he had built a fire, he went upstairs to change into his joggers and a sweater. Maybe lifting weights would help? Before he made his mind up he noticed the brown padded envelope on his nightstand. Picking it up, he examined it. It was written in Edgar’s own handwriting and had evidently not been opened since Edgar himself had sealed it. Jim took it down the stairs with him. Once he had made coffee, he opened the envelope.
Inside the contents were neatly tied with a red ribbon, rather like the legal documents of a solicitor. There was a thick wad of paper, which he presumed was the manuscript of the incomplete book on George Leigh Mallory. Underneath the ribbon was an envelope addressed to Jim, again in Edgar’s handwriting. Jim slid his finger along the seal and took out the contents. Awash with emotion, he began to read.
Dear Jim,
If you are reading this, I am no longer with you. I instructed my solicitor that no one but no one must open this letter, except for you. My dear boy, I can only apologise for the fact that, no doubt, you were excluded from my send off by my wife. It pains me to be sitting here knowing that this will undoubtedly be the case. She has some ridiculous notion that you are bad for my girl. How one could surmise such nonsense when one only has to know you to understand how much you cared for (and probably still do) my Felicity.
Please forgive Felicity. For she, too, has the ridiculous notion that my busybody of a wife knows what is right and wrong for her. The well-known phrase ‘Mother knows best’ sticks in my craw, old boy, I can tell you. The day you were forced out of my family was one of the saddest in my life and as my illness took over me my one real pleasure, apart from seeing my daughter, was awaiting your wonderful letters. You have a way with words, son.
This brings me on to the manuscript enclosed. Now I know you want none of the fame and fortune of becoming a well-known writer, even though your talent is beyond that of many published writers I have read, and so I present to you an opportunity to, ironically, become my ghost-writer. I would very much like for you to finish the manuscript and forward it to Geoffrey Haddington, my editor, who has been instructed to await your contact. If you choose not to take this opportunity, however, know that my opinion of you will not deteriorate. I regard you with the highest esteem and always have. Please remember that.
Now, onto my main reason for writing to you from beyond the grave. Hmm, that’s a strange thing to write when I am still here! Anyway, I digress. Felicity has not been the same since she jettisoned you from her life. I can only liken it to a light being switched off. Her eyes don’t sparkle the same anymore. She’s lost her…how do you put it? Va-va-voom! I have to say that is a word I never thought I would write! Anyway, I am digressing again!
A week ago, after I had been honest with Felicity about my illness and the fact that I wouldn’t be around for very long we had a heart to heart. I asked her to be truthful about your break up. Jim, she broke down and sobbed. She cried for about fifteen minutes and I just held her. When she had calmed herself down I asked her again. I would like to share with you what she said.
Felicity felt that she had something to prove to her mother. She felt that she had to be seen as a successful, wealthy woman who was going places. The crazy thing is that I already saw that in her. But her Mother, who has always been critical, had standards that she set which were impossible to meet. I know things about Penny that would make all of that seem a little ironic but I am sure they will come out soon enough, if they haven’t already. Penny, for reasons known only to herself, didn’t feel that you fit in with this inflated sense of importance she had for material things; and quite rightly too. You are far better than that.
Felicity confessed to me that you were her soul mate. You were her best friend. She convinced herself that these things were not important. She did so to gain her mother’s acceptance. I cannot tell you how sad and angry this makes me. I sincerely hope that Penny can live with herself for the damage she has caused.
Despite all of this I too must admit to being a fool for love. No matter how much my wife meddles and interferes I cannot help but love her and I know that she loves me too, deeply. I know, also, that she wants the best for her daughter. She is just misguided as to what that entails. I have spoken to her recently about you and think she may be realising what she has done. This has made her angry. But this anger, whilst outwardly expressed in a way that hurts others is only dealt with as such because to turn it in on herself
would destroy her. The guilt she feels is eating away at her and she has no idea how to deal with it. I am sure she will have protested at Felicity coming to see you, through pride.
Now, what I am about to impart came directly from Felicity’s own mouth…she still loves you. I will write that again in the hope that it sinks in. Felicity still loves you, Jim. She has remained in-love with you all along. She just pushed the feelings down until she too believed they were gone. Her heart is broken. She realises now that she made a terrible mistake in letting you go but she will not and cannot bring herself to tell you of this as she feels sure that she has hurt you to a level which is beyond the powers of forgiveness. And so I am doing so from wherever I have gone. I know you can forgive her because I have forgiven Penny. When you love someone as much as this it is all you can do.
Now, I requested that Felicity should deliver this package to you personally if you had not been allowed to attend my funeral. If she has in fact delivered it and she is still with you when you read this letter then please don’t be upset with her if you were not informed about my passing until after the funeral. I can assure you it will not have been her decision to not invite you. If she is still with you I would like you to take a long look into her eyes and see the truth. You are meant to be together.
If Felicity is no longer in Scotland I would like you take a long look at yourself in the mirror. Ask yourself if you can forgive this misguided young woman and if the answer is yes, I want you to get in that battered old Land Rover of yours and drive down to London to take back what should never have been broken asunder.
She feels that you and she have some connection that goes deeper than ‘normal’ love. She dreams of you often and a place where you and she stand looking out over a valley surrounded by trees and mountains. It sounds very much like some of the places you have described in your beautiful letters to me, Jim. You are two souls which are incomplete without one another.
Please, for the sake of you both go to her. You will never be complete with another. I think you know this.
I will close now as I am feeling rather tired and emotional. It pains me to know that I may never hold you in my arms again, Jim. But know this. I have loved you since my daughter brought you home. You and I had an affinity just like a Father and his son and that is what you have always been to me. My son.
With much love
Your Father
Edgar
Chapter 15
Jim’s shoulders shuddered as he sobbed. His face was wet with hot tears. Jasper sat beside him with his head resting on his knee. The information contained in Edgar’s letter both shocked and saddened him. He had blown it. There was no way things could work out now. Any chance there may have been to reconcile with Felicity had died. The way she looked at me as she left. He groaned. How could I have been so stupid? So blind? There was no point chasing her down. None.
He sat, drumming his fingers, his knee bouncing up and down as it often did when he was frustrated. He re-read the passage over and over where Edgar told him that Flick still loves him. He mulled it over in his mind and then read it again.
He picked up the phone. “Miranda? Hi, it’s Jim. I need to ask you a favour. Any chance you can look after Jasper for me? I need to go to London.” Miranda was intrigued but Jim didn’t elaborate. She agreed to take Jasper in the next day. Jim dashed up the stairs and grabbed an overnight bag. Once done, he picked up the phone again.
“Charles? Yeah, hi. I need to ask you a favour. Can I stay with you for a couple of days? Great! Thank you sooo much. I should be down tomorrow afternoon, I’ll explain then.” Jim sat back with a face-splitting grin fixed firmly in place.
He looked down at Jasper and scratched the top of his canine friend’s head. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained, eh, Jasper?”
He had no clue what he would say to her once he arrived. He had no clue whether she would even speak to him. He wondered if he should call Polly in advance and see how the land lay as he felt sure that Flick would have called her to let her know she was on her way home. But then again, even if Polly said he mustn’t come, he would still get in the Landy and head off to London to see for himself. Why waste time on pointless phone calls then?
He decided he would get an early night and rise at around six, pack some sandwiches, and set off. He figured he could make most of the journey without stopping. He resolved that he would only stop if absolutely necessary, that way he could maybe meet her from work and they could go somewhere neutral to talk things through. That was it. All planned. He breathed a sigh of relief, leaned back, and closed his eyes.
Suddenly he bolted upright when he heard a loud rhythmical knock at his door. His heart leapt. Shit! Maybe she came back?! He hurried to the door and yanked it open, almost pulling it off the hinges in his excited rush.
“Ta daaa!” A tall, lanky man threw his arms around Jim.
“Euan?!” Jim shouted, hugging his brother back. “Shit, Euan, why didn’t you call? I could’ve picked you up at the airport!”
“In that ancient old shed you call a car? No thanks! We hired something a lot more civilised, didn’t we, Tar?” he asked over his shoulder. The petite frame of his girlfriend stepped sideways and opened her arms out to Jim.
“Hey! Tara! You look amazing, come here.” Jim scooped her up and swung her around and then pointed to his brother. “And you, you great heathen, you leave my lovely Landy out of this. She’ll go on forever. She’s done me proud all these years and there’s plenty of life left in her yet.”
“Yeah, whatever you say! And get off ma woman, you hairy lout!” Euan punched his brother’s arm playfully.
“God, it’s so good to see you both, come in!” Jim stepped aside as his brother and potential sister-in-law entered his tiny cottage.
“Geez, bro. I’m sure this place gets smaller.” Euan laughed. His last visit had been the year that Jim had moved in and he had been overwhelmed by the size of the property compared to the one he and Tara shared in New South Wales.
“Aye but there’s only me and Jasper so it does us just fine.” He went through to the kitchen to make coffee for his guests. “So, how long are you staying?” he asked, cringing as he remembered his letter from Edgar and the plan to chase after Flick.
“We’re here for a month, mate! A whole month!” Euan beamed at his big brother.
Shit. That would mean that Flick would be in the states when they left. Shit, shit shit! What could he do? His brother had flown all the way around the world to be with him. He couldn’t just leave and dash off to London/USA on a whim. It wouldn’t be right.
“That’s great.” It was great. It was wonderful. He would just have to have a major rethink.
The evening was filled with chatter and catch ups. The brothers joked around like old times and Tara listened intently whilst the two regaled her with stories of their childhood in Dumbarton. They told her these stories whenever they got together. She rolled her eyes frequently and smiled as they carried on regardless.
Euan and Tara updated Jim on their latest hobby, windsurfing. Jim was slightly envious at that. It was something he had always wanted to try but had never had the courage. As the evening wore on, Jim cooked a large pan of Spaghetti Bolognese and a garlic baguette. The wine flowed and so did the conversation. At around midnight, Euan stretched and yawned. He looked down at his gorgeous girl who lay across him, fast asleep.
“I’m bushed, Jim. I think I’ll turn in if you don’t mind, eh?”
“Aye, you know where your room is, bro. I’ll make breakfast when you get up so don’t rush, eh?” The brothers hugged and Euan scooped up his girl like a little china doll and carried her up to bed.
~~~~~
Jim couldn’t sleep. He lay awake almost all night trying to figure out what to do. He could call her…but that would be impersonal. He wanted to see her face and discuss things properly. He would have to wait. It may mean a flight to the USA but so be it. Eventually he drifted off into a fitful sleep.
Sleep didn’t carry him away for long. He was in the kitchen making coffee at eight the following morning when he decided to call Charles and explain that his visit was cancelled.
“What was your reason for coming all this bloody way, old boy?” Charles enquired, probably guessing that there was more to this than just a social visit.
“It’s a long story, Charles, but to give you the abridged version… Flick brought me an incomplete manuscript as requested by her Dad via his will. In the envelope with it was a letter. Edgar said in the letter that Flick still loves me.”
“Bloody hell! Do you think it’s true? Or another bloody lie?” Charles asked in his Charles-type way.
“Edgar wouldn’t lie. He says she told him I’m her soul-mate, that she has always loved me, that she regrets how things ended between us.”
“Well, it was her bloody doing, old chap. You weren’t going to bloody chase her down were you?”
“I wanted to at least talk to her, you know? I need to know if she still feels that way, although after how things ended when she was here this week, I am guessing I’ve blown it.”
“But Jim, I thought you were over her? You spent so long putting things in place to help you bloody move on.”
“Aye, I know…but…I can’t help myself.”
He went on to explain to Charles what had happened the night before Flick left. How they had ended up sleeping together and about her reaction the next day when he treated it as just sex. He felt quite ashamed as he spoke, realising that this was the first time he had ever done something as callous. It wasn’t meant to be callous. He had simply misread every single signal. The stupid thing was he had been completely oblivious to the signals and the looks until now.
Through the Glass Page 15