A Different Reflection (15 page)

“Agreed!” he then said reluctantly. “I just do not want all of us ending up not living our lives as we should be!” I felt a twinge of guilt; he was just looking after me, and I did appreciate that, but this was the biggest thing to ever happen in my life – I was going nowhere!

“I know! Even with your negativity sometimes I do still want to help you both. Let's speak of it no more!” I smiled.

“Yes, let's not speak of it anymore. I enjoy Katharina being here, so don't you dare keep commenting on her leaving us, James!” George then said as he placed dessert on the table.

“Alright, alright I get the picture,” James then replied. George winked at me.

“Oh and by the way your dessert is in the kitchen!” George then announced.

“Great!” James said as he stood and left the room.

George looked across at me and smiled, and just before Kate returned to the dining room, he quickly said; “Well said, Katharina. It makes a change from me telling him to shut up!” I laughed at his comment and then we sat back down. It has to be said that James was very quiet during dessert and coffee and I felt slightly uncomfortable when Kate asked about John. I looked across at James numerous times and he did look up just once, when I explained to Kate that Northfield was for sale. She seemed interested in that, but only briefly. It was quite clear from her earlier discussions that she was travelling the world more than ever, and so I knew that she would not want to commit to a house of this size. It was disappointing, but I also was quite relieved. I realised that I didn't want anyone else to have it – which was very selfish, but I couldn't help it. I wouldn't dare tell James and George that I felt this way though.

Kate and I continued to catch up; it was lovely to see her. George made her very welcome. As the evening grew late, Kate announced that she would have to leave as she had to be in Paris the next day by noon. Her driver had waited all night for her, and it was so apparent that she loved what she was doing. She was still single, but had, it seemed, a numerous string of men around the globe that she hooked up with when she was in each city.

I walked her to the door and we made a promise that we would catch up again very soon, as she was to be in London for two whole weeks in a few weeks' time. She offered me a lift back to the city, but I wanted to stay and help George clear away and so I declined. As she pulled away, we waved to her and she joyfully shouted “Many thanks George!” as the car slowly rolled down the driveway. I looked across at George who was, it seemed, happy, even though things had not gone to plan. We walked back inside and James stood waiting very patiently.

“Thank you for organising dinner this evening. It was unfortunate that things did not go to plan!” he then stated. I had to stop myself from laughing; his tune had most definitely changed.

“You are very welcome. My matchmaking plans do not seem to be working very well though, do they?” I then asked him.

“At least you are trying, and contrary to what you may think, I do appreciate it!” he then said. I smiled at him.

“I know that you do!” I remarked as I started my way to the dining room. “Let's clear some of these plates away, then we can have coffee before I return back home,” I suggested. George happily followed along, not saying anything.

We laughed, tidied, washed the dishes and spoke about the very hectic lifestyles of my friends. It was, by all accounts, not as easy as we had first thought, and my single friends were fast running out. The last person on my list was my friend Lisa; a little older than James, but single after a failed marriage. It was worth a shot. We had coffee in George's apartment and discussed the next hopeful dinner. When it was finally eleven o'clock and my cab arrived, I was tired and left Northfield wishing that I was not; I wanted to cosy down into that large bed. I had to get back though, as I had told John that I would be home, and it was already later than I had expected.

I thanked George again for a lovely meal, and before I left I went to the mirror to speak to James.

“Good night James!” I calmly said.

“Good night Katharina!” he replied with a gentle smile.

“You know, one day I will be able to either shake your hand or give you a well-deserved hug. We will break this together!” I stated, hoping to give him some confidence and reassurance.

“I hope so!” he simply replied, and then I turned and kissed George on the cheek and ran down the stairs and into the cab to get out of the late evening drizzle.

I returned home to find that John had already gone to bed, but he woke briefly when I slipped under the sheets to ask if I had enjoyed my meal with Kate. I hadn't told him where we were eating, but he knew who I was with. I gave him a quick synopsis on our night's discussion and then happily drifted off to sleep.

I started the new story at work. Kate had texted to thank me for a lovely evening at a ridiculous hour this morning, so I presumed that she was on the go at the crack of dawn. Claire was dedicated to one of the other journalists today and had her work cut out, and so I had a slightly less structured day, which included information gathering, coffee drinking and daydreaming about James and George and Northfield! When a copy of Jane Austen's novel was dropped on my desk from a height, it snapped me back to reality briefly. It had been the anniversary of
Pride and Prejudice
last year, and another colleague had offered to lend it to me once she had finished it, but noted that it was ‘bloody hard reading'! I smiled and looked at the front cover and then read the first couple of pages. I could not picture the Bennets and the handsome Mr Darcy… only James, his mother and a very angry but beautiful witch sprang to mind, and I found myself daydreaming again about years past, when they would have been a physical presence.

I checked my phone again. I had texted Lisa this morning, and although she was well-known for not replying for at least three or four days, I hoped for something. It was another disappointment though; I had nothing. I carried on with my day, but it had to be said that my head was not entirely focused on the work that I should have been doing. I found myself Googling ‘Northfield' and ‘James Henry Aldersley' and even that was not giving me any results. I sat back and sighed; I was, it seemed, completely addicted to being involved in this fairy tale. I knew that I would not be happy until things were eventually resolved. Grimly I started to picture myself finding no single appropriate woman, and me being an old woman, with James still being the way he was – it sent shivers down my spine. I had to keep fighting for them; how lovely the images that appeared in my thoughts were, of being able to sit and share a glass of wine, or a meal, or just a conversation with James sitting in front of me instead of behind a glass barrier. I smiled to myself; I wished that there were more that I could do, but I do not think Googling or looking in the yellow pages for local ‘Witches for spell breaking' would be appropriate, considering the year we were in!

The next two days resulted in no reply from Lisa, even though I had texted her again twice, but I knew that she would eventually. By the time Friday arrived, I was relieved and excited that I would be having drinks with Claire tonight. John was out with work colleagues again, but he had suggested that we meet later in the evening. Claire scowled when I mentioned this; she did not have a high opinion of John at all. We arranged to meet at Dalla Terra, in Covent Garden; Claire had a passion for red wine and good food to nibble on and always preferred to start the night with a very decent glass of wine that ‘she could enjoy and remember tasting'! It was a wise decision to have a little bite to eat before we embarked on the numerous bars that I know Claire would want to visit.

The night was running along smoothly; we were, by all accounts, getting very merry but we were luckily still in control, and Claire had managed to have two drinks bought for us in two consecutive bars. She certainly knew how to wrap men around her little finger; I had forgotten how much she liked to do that. It was apparent, however, that she was definitely not suitable for James; she was far too outgoing and liked her single life far too much. As the evening passed at a remarkably fast pace, and I found myself getting worse by the minute from the alcohol, I was reminded that I was not being very attentive to the men that were giving Claire and I attention. Claire had pointed this out numerous times, and I in return had pointed out to her that I was engaged, but then I said something that I probably shouldn't:

“Anyway, I do not want to talk to these men. I have certain interests in another man and it's not John!” As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I thought about what impact this could have, but not being able to tell anyone about James and George was killing me. I did tell them that I would only tell their story if it was a matter of life or death, and at this precise moment in time, under the influence of alcohol, I did feel that I was likely to burst and die, if I didn't tell someone… and so it all spilled out.

“Excuse me?” Claire replied as she pushed the two handsome men that were trying their hardest with us to one side. “What man is this?” she asked. That was when I realised just what I had done. Firstly she would think I was going crazy, and secondly I made a promise to James and George and I knew that there was no going back now. I could tell by the look in Claire's eye that she would most likely coax an answer out of me if I did not willingly tell, so here it went:

“You know Northfield and George?” I slurred.

“Yes?” she replied, then quickly followed it up with: “God you're not in love with George, are you? I mean he's lovely, and there is the older man thing, but not that old!” I laughed at her comment and then continued:

“No, not George! The guy in the painting!” I replied as I looked at her response.

“The dish? The guy I commented on?” she happily replied.

“Yes, that's the one!”

“Kat, if you haven't noticed he's dead!” she laughed.

“What if I told you that he wasn't?” I replied as I took a sip of the cocktail in front of me. Her eyebrows raised and she looked at me as if I was slightly deranged, but she pulled up a bar stool and perched in front of me.

“Okay, now you have my attention – this sounds interesting!” she replied.

“Please try and listen to what I say with an open mind, but promise me that you will not say anything to anyone!” I asked her as I touched her hand. “It is really important to me!” I declared.

“I promise. Jesus Kat, I don't want you locking up in an institute,” she laughed.

So I told her the whole story of James and George and the witch, the magic and the spell. She sat and listened and intently gasped at certain points. She did not interrupt me; she simply sucked on the straw in her drink. By the time I had finished the whole story, I felt so much better. I no longer had the feeling of self-combustion now that I had been able to tell someone what was going on. She continued to drink her cocktail for a while and then I had to break the silence.

“Well, say something!” I then commented.

“I am assimilating!” she said, then carried on drinking. I sat and tapped my fingers on my glass, waiting for her reaction. “Well, given the choice, if he were alive, I know who I would choose!” she then declared with a cheeky smile. “You may be working too hard, or going slightly crazy, but all I can say is, I would prefer James – God he looks yummy, and I bet he is a firecracker in bed! You know my feelings on John; I've never gelled with him. I am sorry, Kat, but that's the truth!” she stated as she took another suck on her straw. “Anyway, why are we discussing this? You should definitely write this down, you know – write a book. It's a fantastic story Kat!”

“Story – yes it does sound a little farfetched, doesn't it!” I replied. “I know that you do not like John all that much, and believe me recently I have had my moments with him too,” I replied. She touched my hand.

“Maybe that is why you are hoping for something else?” she raised her eyebrows at me questioningly. “Look, all I am going to say is that I do not want to see you in a straightjacket, and quite honestly I do not understand what is going on with you at the moment. However, I trust your judgement and so my advice would be this: follow your heart, Kat. Our hearts very rarely let us down and, let's face it, your head is all over the place at the moment, so there's no point listening to that!” She laughed as she finished her drink. I smiled.

“Thanks Claire, at least you didn't laugh at me… anyway just out of curiosity, how the hell can you deduce that James would be a ‘firecracker' in bed from simply looking at a painting?”

“With those eyes and that alluring look? Are you kidding me? God, you seriously cannot tell me you don't look at that painting, or in your case look at him directly in a mirror… in real life… and think that he would not be interesting in bed?” She ordered us a tequila shot; I think she had the strong feeling that I needed something stiffer, probably because I did sound clinically insane!

“Alright, I get the picture!” I laughed. “Please don't say anything about this to anyone. If John gets wind of it, I do not suspect that he will be all too happy!”

“I would not give that man any extra ammunition to fire at you Hun! I do not know what your feelings are toward him at the moment, and honestly I do not see it lasting – he doesn't deserve you!” she then replied sincerely. “Your secret is safe with me!” she finished as she made the gesture of crossing her heart with her finger and zipping her lips. “Now get this shot down your neck, we are moving on!”

Claire certainly knew how to have a good time. The drinks were many and unfortunately mixed, and when it was nearly ten o'clock, and I was swaying very badly, I suggested that the next bar should be where we were meeting John. Her face dropped immediately; she was not too pleased, but she also would not want me travelling home on my own. So, swaying together, we got a cab and laughed the whole way there. Just before we exited the cab, my mobile pinged – at last Lisa had replied:

‘Hey Gorgeous, hope you are well? I would love to catch up with you soon, just send me some possible dates and then we can pencil it in!'

I punched the air with excitement. Thank goodness she was back in the world of technology. I replied immediately with difficulty; the screen on my phone was, I am sure, smaller than earlier, and the buttons were even smaller than that. I told her that I was out but would be in touch tomorrow and it would be dinner sometime next week, at a very nice house, with a very charming older friend! We almost fell into the wine bar that John had said he would be at, laughing and knowing all too well that we were far drunker than we had realised. We made our way to the bar.

“Don't you want to find your fiancé?” Claire asked in a very mocking tone.

“No, I am going to look around and see where he is, but I think he should come to me!” I replied. Claire smiled at me.

“Cheers to that girl. Let's see if we can spot him!” Claire announced as our cocktails appeared on the bar. She paid and then, sucking her straw, started to glance around the room. She certainly knew her drinks and wasted no time breathing in between them! “Yep, spotted him!” she then said as she pointed precariously across the room. “Holy sshhh –!” She then stopped herself and leaned into me. “Is that the bloody girl from the office?” she asked as I finally spotted him and realised that Nadine was, yet again, draped around his shoulders.

“Yep, there's a surprise!” I replied. I was upset, but knew that I was drunk. Just as I replied to Claire, he actually removed her arm and stepped away from her.

“Ooh I bet he knows you're here or about to arrive, he's worried he's too close to her… look!” Claire slurred.

“Well, I cannot be bothered with confrontation, so I am going to text him!” I announced as I pulled my phone from my bag.

“What you gonna say? Dump him, then we can go somewhere else!” she then laughed. I scowled at her again; after all, he had tried to undrape her from around his neck.

‘I'm here! Can see you, but can't be bothered to fight my way there. At the bar with Claire!' I hit send and then dropped the phone back in my bag.

“Let's see how long it takes him to come find me!” I laughed, now realising just how drunk I was.

It didn't take long. He looked at his phone and gestured to his colleagues that he was looking for me. Claire suggested we hide, but I rolled my eyes at her – we weren't schoolgirls. When he eventually caught sight of us, he made his way over.

“Oh sweet Jesus here he comes!” Claire announced as she turned away slightly.

“Hey ladies, how are we?” he asked as he pecked me on the lips.

“John. Pleasure as always!” Claire suddenly said, as if she was surprised to see him. I chuckled slightly at her.

“Claire, likewise! Sounds like you two are slightly inebriated?” he then asked.

“Oh, we're not that bad!” I then stated as I ran my finger down his bottom lip to silence him, which in turn had Claire in hysterics.

“Oh Jesus, you're both completely smashed!” he then said, as we tried to stop ourselves from laughing.

“I notice that you have your other woman here?” I then stated as I pointed to Nadine. He turned and looked at her and then back at me.

“Really? Do you have to bring that up again? She was just out with her friend, that's all!” he replied.

“Convenient!” Claire whispered under her breath.

“Excuse me?” John then asked in a sterner tone.

“Coincidence!” she said slowly and loudly, then took a sip from her straw.

“Right, I suggest that we finish these drinks and then get you home!” he announced. I nodded, much to Claire's disapproval, but unless I wanted to spend all of Saturday with my head in the toilet, I knew that he was right.

Claire ended up talking to one of John's work colleagues, Ben, who I always thought was a little quiet, but sweet. She decided to get another drink with him, and John assured me that he would see her home safely, so I was happy. The cab ride home was short – most probably because I fell asleep for part of it. As we went up to our apartment, John then informed me that he had bumped into Rachel earlier in the evening. She was out celebrating with work colleagues about her new job!

“She mentioned that you had asked her to dinner at a friend's? A big old house, with amazing charm and character?” he then stated. I seemed to sober slightly and immediately.