by Jo Duchemin
I smiled broadly. “But she never puts marmite and strawberry together! What has she made?”
“Jacket potatoes – with a choice of beans, or cheese, or both. But it’s OK, we put sugar in the salt shaker, so we can make it taste better.”
In the afternoon, I sent Sandra and Ned out together for a while so that I could work on the project I had lined up for the children. I’d bought some plain, brown wrapping paper – the kind used for sending parcels – and some kid-friendly paints in glittery red, gold and green. We poured the paint into plastic trays and the kids put their hands in them, then they made handprints all over the brown paper. The result was special – customised family Christmas wrapping paper. We left it to dry on the kitchen table and watched a cartoon. After this, we wrapped the presents they’d bought for their parents and placed them under the tree.
“But, Claudy, what about Santa? Doesn’t he bring the presents?” Allison, the youngest, asked. I gave a death stare to the older kids, which silenced any possible outpourings of the truth.
“Santa delivers some gifts, I believe, but he’s absolutely fine with people helping him out by buying and wrapping presents. It saves him extra work.”
“OK,” Allison said, “so, then we’ve been extra good this year.”
“Exactly.”
“Claudia, there’s a van parked in front of the house,” Rachel commented.
I ran to the window, hoping that the police weren’t here to talk to me as that might upset or frighten my cousins. I sighed with relief when I saw it was a florist’s van.
“They aren’t coming to us, don’t worry, they must be going to one of the neighbours,” I suggested.
“Claudia, has anyone ever sent you flowers?” Rachel asked.
“No, I’m afraid not.” Just feathers, I thought. “Oh, someone left flowers on my doorstep once.”
“Was it romantic?”
“No. Not at all.”
“Why?” Rachel looked confused, her illusions shattered. I couldn’t tell her the truth.
“Well, they, um, had been left out in the rain all day and had started to go a bit mouldy. And I didn’t like the guy who left them.”
“Why didn’t you like him?”
The doorbell rang, saving me from the question. “I guess the neighbours are out, I’ll go to the door, you guys just – behave.” I got up from the sofa and went to the door. I opened it to see a delivery woman, her face mostly hidden by a large, and stunning, arrangement of flowers.
“Flowers for Miss Claudia Lee,” she said, handing the overwhelming arrangement over to me. I could sense Rachel watching from the doorway.
“Thank you, um, Rachel, could you take these, carefully, and find somewhere for them?” I asked over my shoulder. Rachel’s face was so excited, I could see she wanted to know all the romantic details – of which there were none.
“You need to sign here,” the delivery woman told me, handing over an electronic gadget. “You’re a lucky lady, we don’t make many of those arrangements. You must be making some man very happy.” She winked at me and walked back to her van. I closed the door and turned around to see five excited faces watching me.
“Who are they from, Claudia?” asked Rachel.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” Allison enquired.
“Kissing is yucky. Girls are yucky,” Danny added.
“I don’t know who they’re from until I read the card, and you guys should be minding your own business. Go watch some TV, I’ll join you in a few minutes.” I stomped past them into the dining room, where the overwhelming arrangement stood in the centre of the table. I snatched the little envelope that had been carefully placed at the top of the arrangement and opened it, knowing full well who the flowers were from.
For Princess Claudia,
Merry Christmas
Sam
I stared at the arrangement – it was made up of different shades of red and white – roses and lilies being the flowers I recognised making up most of the bouquet. It had arrived in its own vase and it clearly had cost a lot of money. It was too much. I was flattered, of course, but I felt completely overwhelmed. I heard little giggles behind me.
“Who are they from, Claudia?” Rachel was brave enough to ask again.
“Sam.”
“Who’s Sam?” Danny had piped up now.
“Just a friend.”
“Friends don’t send flowers like that.” Rachel’s statement was cutting.
“I know…hey, who wants to make cornflake cakes?” The younger kids were immediately distracted and ran into the kitchen, but Rachel held my eyes and smiled.
“If you marry him, can I be a bridesmaid?”
“If I say yes, will you leave the subject alone?”
“Yes,” Rachel promised, holding out her little finger to me for a pinky shake.
“Yes.” I returned her pinky shake.
I felt exhausted by the time Sandra and Ned returned and then had to handle Sandra’s questions about the flower arrangement. I told her I should call Sam to thank him and also put him straight on my feelings for him.
My feet felt like they were treading through mud as I climbed the stairs to the guest bedroom. It felt like trying to let Ben know I wasn’t interested, all over again. I picked up my phone and called Sam. He answered on the third ring.
“Hello, Princess,” he answered, sounding happy.
“Hi, Sam. I was ringing to thank you for the flowers, they’re breathtaking.”
“I knew you’d like them. How are you feeling today?”
“I’m fine, I’ve been kept busy by my monstrous cousins. I…look Sam, I…well, my aunt thinks you might be interested in me, you know, romantically, and…”
“Yes, Claudia, I am.” He said it so plainly, I was taken aback.
“But you know I’ve just come out of a serious relationship and had my heart broken.” I was stumbling over the reasons I’d planned for why he shouldn’t want to be with me.
“I do. That’s why I thought you might appreciate someone who isn’t messing around and playing games. That’s why I am trying to make it clear that I’m attracted to you.”
I didn’t know how to respond.
“Claudia, would you mind telling me how you feel about me?”
“I…I honestly don’t know…I’m so focussed on protecting myself from getting hurt, I’m still in pain over…everything.” I realised I couldn’t say Marty’s name or I would cry and I was desperate to avoid that.
“I know that feeling well, trust me. Listen, Claudia, I know you’ve been through so much this year and I don’t want to add to that.” He took a deep breath and continued: “The way I see it is that I met you at the wrong time. So, I’ll be your friend for as long as you want. If it takes a few months for you to begin laughing more than you cry, I’ll be there for that. I’m tired of being lonely and if one day you realise you’re tired of being lonely, and if you start missing me as much as I miss you right now; then that’ll be the right time.”
His speech brought a lump to my throat. “Why are you being so nice to me?” I croaked, “I don’t deserve it.”
“Yes, you do. No pressure, Princess. You take your time to let your heart beat again. I’ll be listening out for it.”
“Thank you. I’d better go.”
“Goodnight, Princess.”
“Goodnight.”
I felt shell shocked through dinner, hardly paying attention to the lively conversations taking place around me. The phone conversation was ringing in my ears, the words echoing and reverberating, over and over again. Sandra questioned me about it as we cleared the table.
“So, he admitted he’s attracted to you?”
“Yes, and he’s willing to wait until I work out how I feel about him. No pressure, he said.”
“And how do you feel about tha
t?” Sandra stopped piling up the plates and stared at me.
“Overwhelmed. He must be so sure of his feelings for me and yet I don’t even know if I’m attracted to him. I don’t feel like I did about Marty.”
“But you enjoy spending time with him?”
“Yes, he’s fun to be with. He doesn’t give me butterflies though.”
Sandra looked thoughtful for a second. “Maybe they’re still in their cocoons? Maybe he’s right, you just need time. Either way, he seems like a nice guy and heaven knows you need some of those in your life.”
Being at Aunt Sandra’s was hectic all the time and I started to long for the solitude of my house, mainly because when I spoke aloud to Marty, nobody could hear me. Here, I didn’t even have a chance to say the words I hoped he’d hear. I took a long, hot bath, enjoying the silence of the room, knowing the children were all downstairs watching TV with their parents. It was good to be able to think in peace. It gave me time to wallow in my thoughts of Marty, thoughts I’d neglected with the turmoil of the past few days. There was no contest between my feelings for Marty and my possible feelings for Sam. The contest was between living in the beautiful past and moving on to an unknown future.
I put on my pyjamas and ventured downstairs. I sat with the happy family for a few minutes. They looked like they should have been on an advert – the perfect Christmas family – and even though they included me and never neglected me, I felt like an outsider. I said my goodnights and headed to the guest room.
Waiting on the pillow was a white feather – larger than the others he’d left for me. I smiled, feeling giddy. I would get to be near him tonight. I tried to calm myself down, knowing my excited agitation would delay the arrival of sleep, the arrival of Marty. I pondered for a moment how it worked. What had he said? My soul searched for him? I hoped it wasn’t dangerous, knowing that I’d take any risks regardless.
I lay in the darkness, waiting for the dream to start, to be transported to the utopia that was being with Marty. There was nothing wrong with my heart. It was beating perfectly. It knew who every beat was destined for. Marty.
I was lying on my side, facing him. I could feel his breath on my forehead, his arms wrapped around me. I stayed as still as possible, just trying to hold on to every moment. This was truly breathtaking. He stirred slightly, pulling in a sharp intake of breath.
“Claudia, remember to stay still…This is the last time you can come to me like this. They discovered what happened when I left you feathers. They promised me one more chance to say goodbye, to explain to you why you won’t see any more feathers from me. Never think for a moment that I don’t love you. But I won’t be watching you. I have to stop that too. George said he’ll keep a watch on you – I asked for Olivia, but they decided on George. I saw what Tim tried to do. I felt terrible, I should have been protecting you, but my selfishness meant you were vulnerable. I never deserved you.”
I fought every muscle in my body to stay still, but I was desperate to shout how wrong he was, to comfort him for all these terrible lies he was saying about himself.
“I can’t give you the life you deserve. I can’t even give you a Christmas present. Just a stupid feather.”
I could feel his tears as he pressed his cheek to my forehead.
“I love you so much. But this is the end for us. There is no other way now.”
I felt him gently kiss my forehead, his lips soft and caressing. The desire to move, to kiss him back, was excruciating.
“I wish I could hold you like this forever, but I know you’ll wake up soon. I will always love you, Claudia.”
I felt the sickening lurch begin in my stomach and I knew I was leaving him.
“I will always love you, Marty.”
I woke up in the guest bedroom, tears running across my cheeks and one lone tear, Marty’s tear, on my forehead. I gripped the feather in my hand. A knock at the door shocked me. It opened as five excited bundles of energy ran into the room and jumped on the bed.
“Merry Christmas, Claudia!” they screamed in unison.
“Merry Christmas,” I whispered and ushered them out of my room. I closed the door, leant against it, and burst into tears.
Chapter 29
It was the worst Christmas of my life, much as I had expected it to be. I hid my feelings, laughing and joking with the children all day, but I felt like a zombie, muddling through with no idea of why I was bothering. Nothing mattered anymore. I felt like I’d taken a massive step backwards, to how I felt when Marty first disappeared. I held my feelings in all day, waiting until I was in bed to cry myself to sleep.
Boxing Day was even worse than Christmas day – without the distractions of opening presents and sitting down for a big family meal, I had far too much time to think. I could feel the depression taking hold and knew Sandra was concerned. I used my acting skills to try to hide how I felt, but it was a constant struggle. I was relieved that I would be heading home the next day, where I didn’t have to hide my feelings. Sam sent two messages a day to me, regular as clockwork – one in the morning, and one in the evening. I was pleasant but non-committal in my responses.
Uncle Ned drove me to the train station, helping me with my suitcase into the ticket hall. He was a naturally quiet man, content to stay in the background of life, but I’d always liked him and felt at ease with him.
“You’ll ring Sandra when you get home, won’t you?” he asked.
“Yes, I will.”
“She worries about you.”
“I know, but she doesn’t have to.” I gave him a big hug. “I’d better get on the train.”
I struggled with my suitcase through the ticket barriers and onto the platform, where a few other travellers waited for the train. The wind seemed intensified on the platform and I felt so empty that it could almost blow me away. The train pulled up, a few minutes later than expected, and I was grateful that the carriages were fairly empty. I lugged my suitcase into a luggage rack and found a seat nearby. I took a magazine out of my handbag and stared at the pages, unable to process any information contained within the columns.
My phone beeped, bringing me back out of my trance. It was Sofia:
Hey Hon, hope you had a good Xmas. Guess what? Ben’s dad said we can have our NYE party at his and we can stay over in his guest rooms – isn’t that awesome? Xx
I didn’t know how to reply. My Christmas had been anything but good and I wasn’t excited about New Year either. I tried not to burst her bubble, so I typed a generic reply:
It was good to see my family. I’m sure NYE will be great fun. I’m just on the train home now. X
I returned to trying to read my magazine, but I found myself looking out of the window at the countryside zooming past. A short time later, my phone beeped again. An old man across the aisle from me tutted. I shrugged apologetically and turned my phone to silent, even though it wasn’t a quiet carriage. Sam had sent a message:
Ben mentioned you were on the train already, I’ll be at the station to meet you. X
I wasn’t sure how I felt about this – it would be the first time I’d seen Sam face to face since he’d told me that he was attracted to me. I felt like I was split in two – on one hand, I was looking forward to seeing him, but on the other hand I felt like accepting his lift would be leading him on – I was still mourning the loss of my connection to Marty. I found myself wishing the train would break down, to have a delay, so that I would have more time to plan what to say to Sam, but it was as though time sped up, and before I knew it, I’d arrived at my destination.
I’d expected him to be waiting in the ticket hall, so I was shocked to see him waiting on the platform as I struggled to carry my suitcase off the train. He raced over to help me, taking the load as though it weighed nothing. I was worried he would try to hug me, which I didn’t feel comfortable with, but he didn’t touch me at all, he just smiled as thou
gh I was the most precious thing in the world.
“Come on, Princess, your carriage awaits.”
“How was your Christmas?” I asked.
“Better than yours, I’d wager. It was fine, visited some old friends, drank a very fine bottle of wine. Thought of you.” He looked over at me and I looked away.
“How’s Ben? Did you see Sofia?” I wanted to change the subject.
“They’re both fine, she’s a lovely girl – they’re both at my house now, I left them watching DVDs. Did you want to join them?” Sam asked, as he loaded my suitcase into the boot of his car.
I shook my head. “I want to go to my parents’ grave.”
He sighed. “Of course you do. I’ll drive you there.”
We didn’t talk on the short drive to the cemetery. My parents had been buried side by side and I knew my way to their graves off by heart. I thought Sam would wait in the car, but he accompanied me, standing with me for a moment and then discreetly walking further away, out of earshot, but where I could still see him. The graveyard was empty, aside from us. Dark clouds gathered overhead and I felt that a storm was on its way. A fresh bouquet of flowers had been placed in the middle of the gravestones. Someone had been here fairly recently. There was no note on the flowers, but my parents had been very popular with friends all over the town. I felt bad that I had brought nothing to leave for them. I felt in my pocket and found the last feather Marty had left for me. It seemed a fitting tribute. All the memories of the three people I loved the most.
“Hi, Mum. Hi, Dad.” I felt tears pricking at my eyes, my nose tingling. “I’m sorry I haven’t been by to visit. So much has happened. I miss you so much. Why did you leave me?” The tears were now streaming down my face. “I spent Christmas with Sandra. She’s fine. The whole gang are fine. We all miss you. Nothing seems right without you.”
I turned to my mum’s grave and said the words I wished she could hear. “I fell in love, Mum. It finally happened. Just like you said it would. But he left and now I’m all alone. I wish you could come back. I need you to mend my broken heart. Mummy, I love you. Please come back.”