Through the Glass

by Lisa J. Hobman

  She smiled wider. “You called me Flick.”

  “Aye, I did.” It was Jim’s turn to take a deep breath. “Flick…I’ve never stopped loving you either. I let you go because…I thought that I didn’t make you happy. That was all I ever wanted…for you to be happy. So I figured I loved you enough to let you go.” He leaned toward her and cupped her cheek with his free hand.

  Her mouth fell open at his words. She was silent and her brow furrowed as she seemed to be allowing the news to sink in. “Oh, Jim…what did I do?”

  “Hey, stop that. It’s over…forgotten.” He waved his hand dismissively and then returned it to her cheek. “It’s what we do from now that matters.”

  She nodded slowly. “So…what should we do?” Her tears were relentless now, and she covered his hand with hers, leaning into his touch.

  “Flick, I don’t know if you remember but you said…when you woke from your coma…that you wanted me to take you home… My home is Scotland… I don’t know whether that changes things.”

  Another sob escaped her throat. “Oh, Jim…you want to take me home to Scotland?”

  “Sweetheart…there’s nothing I would like more. Is…is that what you want, too?” He blinked as his tears finally overflowed and he swallowed hard. She couldn’t speak. She simply nodded.

  He stood and bent toward her. Tilting her chin up, he kissed her gently. Her hands snaked up around his neck, and she deepened the kiss. “I love you so much, Jim.”

  He wiped away the tears from her cheeks. “I love you too…no more tears, eh?”

  Chapter 30

  June 2012

  The cab pulled up outside the restaurant where Jim had secured a table in a quiet area at the back. Glasgow city centre on a Saturday night wasn’t known for its serenity or composure, and Flick was still panicky in crowded places. Since her release from hospital a week ago and the flight back to Scotland, she had recovered well and was only now on minimal medication. They had spent the first few days down in Hampshire with Penny and had travelled home on the insistence of Jim who had a surprise to share.

  Investigations into the attempted murder of Flick had resulted in Lia Cole and Chester Withers being arrested, awaiting trial for this and several counts of forgery. The surprising thing, and the thing that had hurt Felicity more than anything, was that Vitale DeLuca had been arrested for illegally supplying the drug that had almost killed her. He, too, had been involved in the forgeries and had known both Lia and Chester. Initially, he was supposed to coerce Felicity by way of his masculine charms into becoming involved in order to implicate her, blackmail her, or keep her quiet about the whole thing. Flick turning him away had clearly scuppered their plans, and she felt glad that she hadn’t fallen for his apparent sensuality. He had seemed so sincere when they almost spent the night together, and she had thought he genuinely liked her. Discovering it had all been a ruse to acquire her coercion made her feel ashamed and incredibly foolish.

  It was now the middle of June, and Julian had been in touch again to ask her to view the exhibition of the artist he had discovered. She had explained that she had resigned from her job, and had no interest in this anymore. But had eventually agreed to go and look as a last favour to Nilsson-Perkins—who had been roped into things following an explanation from Julian.

  Jim and Flick met Julian at the restaurant with hugs and handshakes. “Wow, you really look amazing, Felicity, considering what you’ve been through.” Julian held her at arm’s length.

  “That’s sweet, thanks Jules. I feel much better. I just want to get this evening over with and get home to Shieldaig with Jim.” She gazed lovingly up at him standing beside her with his arm tight around her waist.

  They chatted over dinner about Julian’s latest work and enjoyed a wonderful meal together, and even though she had been a little reluctant to go to the exhibition as the time drew closer, she felt the excitement building. They climbed into the waiting cab that took them to the gallery. Julian had arranged to show Felicity the exhibition when the gallery was closed so that she would feel safer.

  They walked through the large wooden doors and followed Julian to the exhibition hall. “So do I get to know the artist’s name yet?” she asked.

  “You will soon enough, don’t worry. The exhibition is called Through the Glass. That will suffice for now.” He stopped at the double doors. “Now I want you to close your eyes.”

  “Julian, I’m not five. This is about art, remember?”

  “Oh shut up moaning, woman, and humour me.” Jules laughed.

  With an eye roll and a sigh, she did as he requested and allowed him to lead her through the doors and into the stunning wood panelled room that she was already familiar with. It was a room in which she had viewed exhibitions in years past. Jim hung back and watched her walk in. Julian walked her to the beginning of the exhibition.

  With his hands on her shoulders he whispered, “Okay…open your eyes.” He released her and she heard him step away.

  Felicity fluttered her eyes open as instructed and gazed up at the first painting. Waves of confusion and recognition washed over her simultaneously. She spotted the stand, which showed the exhibition title and the artists name ‘Flick MacDuff’. She gasped and her hands shot to her face. She looked over to Julian who stood with one arm across his middle and the other resting on it, his finger on his lips, watching her reaction. He grinned widely. Her eyes shot back to the painting.

  Slowly, she walked toward the next piece, took her time viewing it, and then moved on. Scenes she had encountered on countless journeys with Jim, with friends, and with her parents all hung before her. Scenes she had looked at through the glass and had recreated first in pencil and then in paints. What an unexpected situation to find herself in.

  The colours, the brush strokes…all her own. Every mark remembered. Every memory so special. She walked on until she had viewed all but the last painting. Standing before this final piece overwhelmed her, and a sob escaped as she looked into the scene that had plagued her memory for years until she was taken there by Jim. Only then had the memory of looking back through Jim’s family holiday snaps as they finished university come flooding back into her mind. The place was somewhere she had thought she had imagined. She had so desperately wanted it to be real, and discovering that it was had filled her heart with such joy.

  She couldn’t quite take it all in.

  As she walked around again, a wide smile spread across her face. Through the Glass…this is me…this is what I see through the glass…I understand now. All this time, I’ve been living a life that wasn’t mine. The high-flying career, the status symbols…it all means nothing. It’s like I’ve been watching myself through the glass. But I need to step back into my life…this life…the life I was meant to have. With Jim.

  She glanced over to where he stood. He was leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest, observing like he always used to. But this time it was different. This time the smile on his face was genuine and full of adoration. This time she could see who she was through his eyes and it all fell into place.

  Finally Felicity turned and looked at Julian. Her face streaked with mascara. “How? Why?” was all she could manage to say.

  “Felicity…you’re such a talented artist. This is what you deserve. Your own exhibition.” He held his arms out to gesture toward her paintings. “What do you think?” Julian looked worried now.

  “It’s…it’s wonderful, Jules. Thank you…thank you so much.” She rushed toward him and flung her arms around him, burying her head into his shoulder.

  “Um…Felicity…I think your gratitude is aimed in the wrong direction, honey. It was Jim who did all of this.”

  ~~~~~

  Slowly, she turned to look at Jim, who now stood with his hands in his pockets watching as the realisation hit his beautiful Felicity. Myriad emotions coursed through his body and his eyes stung with the familiar feeling of unshed tears.

  “You? You did this? For me?” Her
voice was almost a whisper as she slowly walked toward him.

  He cleared his throat. “After you left to go back to London and I read that letter, I realised I needed to do something to get you to remember how much you love painting and maybe that way you would come back to me.” A little saltwater escaped and he wiped at his eyes.

  “Oh Jim. I wanted you to come after me…desperately.”

  “Aye and I would have if Euan and Tara hadn’t turned up just as I’d arranged to do that very thing. Then I heard that you’d left for New York. I asked Jules for his help and he’s being far too bloody modest if you ask me. I couldn’t have done this without him. I just had the idea… He made it happen.”

  She made her way to stand in front of Jim and looked up into his eyes. She smoothed her hands up over the lapels of his suit jacket, and he pulled her into him as his heart pounded in his chest.

  His lip trembled as he looked down at her. “This is who you are. This is who I love.” He leaned to kiss her. Brushing his lips softly over hers, he felt her melt into him.

  “I get it now… I understand…and you’re right…I love you so much, Jim… Thank you for reminding me.”

  He stroked her face and ran his thumb over her lower lip. “Flick?”

  “Yes, Jim?”

  “Please, can I take you home now?”

  ~~~~~

  December 2012

  Being back at the cottage for the last few months had been wonderful. Flick had forgotten how much she had loved it there for those few short days at the beginning of the year. They settled into life back together with ease, but this time things were so much better. It felt like it did in the early days when they had first met. The long walks together with Jasper were so special, and she had been painting such a lot. She told Jim how much she loved him as often as possible as if she was making up for lost time, and whenever she did, the look in his eyes made her heart skip and swell.

  Christmas morning arrived and Flick was rather giddy. She had been working on a little painting for Jim in secret, and she was eager for him to unwrap it.

  “Jim…wake up sweetie… I think Santa Claus has been,” she whispered, sliding her hand down his naked back. He murmured and rolled over, wrapping his arms around her.

  “Mmmm… Merry Christmas, gorgeous. I love you,” he said huskily in his delicious, deep morning voice. His Scottish accent sent shivers travelling the length of her spine, and she decided maybe the gifts could wait a while. She slid her hand delicately down his smooth skin and grasped his prominent, morning arousal. He groaned his approval, and while caressing him, she moved to straddle his waist. Once she had guided him inside, she gazed down and began to move, keeping her eyes firmly locked on his. She smoothed her hands over his toned chest, and her fingertips traced his defined abs as she moved, revelling in the fullness of having him inside her body again. She would never get enough of this feeling.

  He caressed her waist and moved up to cup her breasts lovingly, toying with the buds that peaked as she arched into his touch, needing more and more of him.

  Rocking her hips back and forth she watched Jim’s eyes darken with lust as he moved his hands down to grip her hips. With one hand, he pulled her down so that he could take her mouth. His hand cradled her head as her tongue explored and tasted the man she craved with every fibre of her being.

  She had so much lost time to make up for.

  She could feel the warm glow building in her belly and that Jim’s movements had become more urgent. When she pulled herself upright again, he slipped his hand down between their bodies and massaged her sensitive place pushing her higher and sending tingles through every nerve ending in her body. It was the most amazing sensation. She threw her head back as they climbed together, up towards the stars, calling each other’s name in the heat of their passion, and covering one another in warm kisses. This was the way love should be. This was real. And it felt so good to be in his arms again.

  Once their breathing had calmed, she pulled on his T-shirt and went downstairs to light the fire that he had built in readiness before bed on Christmas Eve. She made fresh coffee, and he arrived in the kitchen behind her, sliding his arms around her waist and nuzzling her neck.

  “Mmmm, you smell delicious. Have I told you I love you this morning?” he mumbled into her hair.

  She covered his arms with her own. “You have…but I never tire of hearing it.”

  ~~~~~

  After eating croissants and drinking their coffee in the kitchen whilst Jasper looked on, apparently waiting for their leftovers, they went and sat beside the Christmas tree in all its pine-fragranced freshness. Flick handed him a small parcel. He ripped the paper off, being careful not to damage the contents.

  When he took out the canvas, he gasped. “This is the view of the valley that you painted while you were here when the snow hit.”

  “It is. I wanted you to have this, seeing as the original is on display now. It’s somewhere that means so much to both of us, and although we can walk up and visit there whenever we like, it felt like the right thing to paint for you.”

  “Flick, it’s so beautiful, thank you so much. It means such a lot to me too… I just love it.” He kissed her deeply. He looked a little overwhelmed and cleared his throat. “Erm… here’s your gift… Merry Christmas, gorgeous.”

  Flick eagerly tore the paper off, not taking as much care as Jim had. He laughed as he watched her. Taking out and looking over the contents, she began to sob quietly, her body shaking and tears flowing freely. She looked up into his eyes where she saw her own tears mirrored in his eyes.

  Looking down again, she read the cover of the book. “Reaching Everest, a Biography of George Leigh Mallory by Edgar Johnston-Hart.” She curled her lips up into a huge grin. “Oh, Jim…it’s wonderful. I’m so proud of you. Of both of you.” She flung her arms around him and kissed him once again.

  ~~~~~

  They prepared their Christmas lunch together and enjoyed a slow dance in the lounge to Bing Crosby’s White Christmas. After sitting on the old tapestry couch snuggled up together, Felicity lifted her head from Jim’s chest. “C’mon, let’s go for a walk up to the view point.”

  “Awww, Flick I’m comfy and cosy right here with you,” Jim whined, nuzzling her neck. Jasper had clearly heard the word walk, and his ears had pricked up. His tail had begun wagging frantically in a rhythm all of its own.

  “Too late, Jasper’s ready, too. C’mon…please?” She pouted and fluttered her eyelids at him, and he finally gave in to her feminine whiles.

  After wrapping up warm, they trudged along in the biting air of the chilly December afternoon up to the view point depicted in Felicity’s painting and the old photo from Jim’s childhood. They stood and admired the view in silence, their arms wrapped around each other and Jasper sitting beside them.

  As Flick glanced up at the sky, she gasped. “Jim, it’s snowing!” The sparkling flakes cascaded from the sky and began to settle all around them, carpeting the bracken with a white blanket. The landscape was rapidly transforming into something of a winter dreamscape.

  After they had watched the snowflakes flutter down for a while, Flick turned to Jim. “I was wondering…why did you put my name on the exhibition as Flick MacDuff?”

  He chuckled. “Ah…It was mainly because we didn’t want you to put two and two together if word got out about the exhibition…although looking back I think it was a bit daft really.”

  “It has a nice ring to it really, doesn’t it?” She smiled out at the view.

  “Aye, well I always thought it did.” His smile was tinged with a little sadness

  She pulled away from him and grasped his shoulders, turning him to face her. He looked a little confused.

  Undeterred, she gulped in the cold air. “Jim, I know that we’ve had a rocky relationship and that I was stupid on more than one occasion. But…I want you to believe me when I say that it will never, ever happen again.”

  “I know, Flick, you don’t need t
o—”

  “Jim, please let me finish… I have something I need to ask you...but I’m a little scared of the answer. And I distinctly remember you saying that you were only going to ask once…so I figured…it must be my turn…” She rambled as confusion still clouded his eyes, a line appeared between his brows. Felicity continued regardless. “The name, Flick MacDuff…I’m hoping it’s still up for grabs?”

  “Flick…I don’t understand…you want to change your name? But we can just change the name of the artist on the exhibition now that everyone—”

  She rolled her eyes. God, he can be so dense. She stopped his words with her fingertips. “How about you stop talking and listen to me properly, eh?”

  He clamped his mouth shut and nodded his acquiescence.

  She fumbled in her coat pocket and dropped to one knee, warm salty tears now trailed a heated path down her chilled face. She held up the silver Celtic band toward him. “Jim…I want to be her…I want to be Flick MacDuff…please…will you marry me…again?”

  He stared down at her with his mouth open, but didn’t speak.

  Oh shit…“I know it’s sudden and I know that maybe it’s too soon…but—”

  He dropped to his knees before her and took her face in his hands. “Felicity?”

  “Yes?”

  “You took the words right out of my mouth…. The answer’s yes.”

  They sealed their engagement on their knees in the deepening snow with a passionate kiss, surrounded by snowflakes falling like confetti—as if they knew.

  This wasn’t really a second chance at love. It was a first chance at being who they had always been deep down. Having had the chance to step back and view their own lives, like observers looking through the glass, they knew that this was who they were.

  Flick and Jim.

  Together, this time, forever.

  Epilogue

  February 2013 — Three Years After the break-up – Eight Months After the Reconciliation