A Different Reflection (21 page)

“Right – I will be with you in a jiffy, just let me get the keys!” George replied, disappearing from the kitchen.

“Oh and a very happy birthday James!” I then sincerely said. He nodded in acknowledgement.

“Thank you, Katharina. I shall look forward to seeing you on your return, and I do hope that your day is vastly better than the last two!” he remarked.

“It can't be any worse!” I sarcastically replied.

“I would like to think not!” he grimaced.

“Right, off we go!” George then said, as he ushered me out of the kitchen like I was a small child.

“Enjoy your day!” I shouted back to James.

“Likewise!” he called back, but he did not come to the hallway mirror to say goodbye.

The ride to the station was not long at all; in ten minutes we were there. George parked carefully outside the station doors and I checked my make up in the mirror, then opened the door and reached back for my bags.

“Thank you George!”

“No Katharina, thank you. I feel that we have such purpose nowadays; I have not felt that for so long!” he replied with a kind smile. It made me smile too.

“My pleasure. I will get all the groceries and I will see you here later. Once I have my phone I will text you!” I replied, then I closed the door and walked in to get my ticket. I looked back to where George, like a protective father, waited until I entered the station before making an attempt to move. I liked the gesture; it was endearing.

The train ride to King's Cross was much quieter than my usual morning tube ride. It gave me time to think about what present I could get James – and also about what on earth I was going to cook. Me and my big mouth; I was good at the simple things – stir fries, curries, anything with chips and pasta – but I did not make a good gourmet chef! I decided to pick Claire's brain once I got to work. More importantly, what on earth was I going to buy James for his birthday? As I mindlessly wandered to the tube and then to the office, thinking about presents, I was shocked when I arrived at work and dropped my bag on my desk; I couldn't actually remember the journey from King's Cross to here! I must have looked preoccupied as Claire promptly returned with a steaming mug of coffee and placed it in front of me.

“Looks like you need this!” she said as I dropped to my chair. I took a sip and then looked at her keen gaze; she was waiting for an answer.

“Strange weekend; I argued with John, left my apartment, stayed at Northfield – John rang me and admitted he'd had an affair with Nadine, I'm cooking dinner for a male friend tonight and it's his birthday and I don't know what to buy him!” I stated in a factual way. Claire's mouth dropped open.

“Bloody hell, and I thought my weekend wasn't that great! Just backtrack a second – firstly, I always told you that John was an arse; secondly, I cannot believe that he has done that to you, you should cut off his –”

“Yes, I get the picture!” I quickly intervened, holding my hand up. Not a very pleasant thought on a Monday morning. “Thirdly…?” I asked, hoping she would continue.

“Thirdly… when you bought that big old place, was that only because of the hottie you can see?” she then asked. I had forgotten that I had told her about James, in that moment when a confession seemed appropriate after alcohol consumption.

“Maybe…” I simply replied. I didn't want to get back into that discussion again.

“Birthday with a male friend? Interesting! Would he be a very much older male friend?” she then asked, making the point that she was still on the subject of James. I placed my mug on my desk.

“Look,” I whispered to her. “I know that you think I am crazy, but trust me I am not. I need to buy a present for a friend that hasn't had much opportunity to get out recently… something thoughtful!” I hinted, hoping that she might have a good idea. She stepped back, looked at me and then placed her hand on her chin.

“Hmmm, let me see. Not been out in a while… not in prison, I hope?” she suddenly said.

“Well, kind of. Not in the way you're thinking!” I replied as I took another sip of coffee.

“It is the hottie, isn't it?!” she then said.

“Sshhhh!” I replied. “As much as I love you for believing me, Claire, I really do not want to have to explain myself to anyone else!” I confirmed with an authoritative tone.

“Alright!” she replied quietly. “If it was me, I'd say either a bottle of champagne – to share, of course – or a picture of myself in my best underwear. That would be sure to win him over!” she laughed. I removed my bag from the desk.

“Yes, very funny, thanks for that! We do not all have the rather distasteful idea of presents that you have!” I sarcastically replied.

“Let me think about it!” she laughed as she returned to her desk.

“Oh, and before I forget, can you ring down to IT and ask if they can arrange me a replacement phone this morning? I threw mine at the wall after talking to John!” I confirmed.

“Not surprised! Of course, I will get on that straight away,” she answered.

The morning went considerably well. The IT department were very efficient and had appeared with a brand new phone, put my sim card in it and sorted all the necessary stuff to get me up and running in a matter of hours. As he handed it to me, he declared that I had twelve new messages and three voicemails. I knew straight away who they were likely to be from. As I was about to open the first message, a delivery girl arrived with a huge bunch of roses and asked for me. Rachel, at the end of the office, pointed my way. Claire looked at me and raised her eyebrows. The IT guy promptly left, telling me to let him know if I had any problems, and the delivery girl walked over, put the roses on my desk and asked me to sign for them. I took the card from the outer cellophane as she left and read it. ‘Babe, I am so sorry. I love you, please forgive me X.' I growled under my breath, picked up the roses and gave them to Claire.

“Please get rid of these! Do whatever you want with them – bin them, have them, whatever – as long as I do not have to look at them!” I wanted them out of my sight immediately. How dare he still call me ‘babe'? If he loved me, he would not have done what he did. Claire quickly walked away with them. I flicked open my messages again.

‘I'm sorry.'

‘Babe, please talk to me.'

‘Please… I love you.'

‘I'm an idiot.'

‘It meant nothing. Forgive me?'

By the time I got to the sixth message, I had had enough, so I deleted the rest. He was an idiot. He seemed to have no idea about the concept of love, and I had no intention of talking to him ever again. I sighed and took a deep breath. If the voicemails were anything like the messages, I had the strong notion that I would probably feel sick, so I deleted those as well. If there was anything important from anyone else, they could call me back and I would explain that my phone had been damaged.

I walked to the water cooler to get a cold drink and as I did so Claire walked past me. She patted me on the shoulder.

“I'm proud of you. Keep being strong, you deserve better!” she quietly said. I smiled at her and took another drink.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Giving this poor plant a drink – it looks like it's at death's door!” she replied as she filled the pot with fresh water. I had a sudden amazing thought for James' present.

“Claire, you're a genius!” I replied as I marched back to my desk.

“I am?” she asked with confusion, then carried on watering.

As I made my way to Pulbrook & Gould on Sloane Street – the best florists that I knew – it was a bit of a fight through the lunchtime rush, but I knew it would be worth it. I picked up a sandwich and a birthday card and then walked into the most beautiful shop of colour, scent and visual stimulation. It would be very easy to spend a month's salary in here; the flowers were out of this world, and some were so unusual, unlike anything that I'd seen before. I made my way to a corner that displayed plants in fine porcelain and smiled when I saw exactly what I was after. After Claire's brief spark of inspiration in the office, I had decided to get James a Bonsai tree – a little of the outdoors-indoors, and he could trim it to shape as it grew. I decided that it would be a little project for him, and the specimens they had on offer here were divine. I selected a Chinese elm, which was just like a miniature beautiful elm tree, that was a few hundred years old. It was planted in a sage green rectangular pot. Along with the Bonsai scissors they sold me, I had the present sorted.

They carefully placed it in a special carrying bag and as I headed back to work I felt happy and relieved at my choice. I knew that James would know that I had thought hard about this present, and I also knew that he would appreciate it. Claire had popped to Harrods for a special gift for her mother's birthday and so hastily I asked her to get me three luxurious-looking desserts. I was going to do fillet steak, potato wedges and salad (a hearty man's meal) and I had already picked those bits up from the trusty Marks & Spencer when I had got my lunchtime sandwich. When I arrived back at the office, I quickly ate my lunch whilst Claire showed me the lovely silk scarf that she had purchased. She said I would love the desserts, but they were tied up in a box, so I had to take her word for it. She placed them in the fridge and stuck a post-it note on my computer screen to remind me to take them.

The afternoon moved on at a steady pace, and when Claire gingerly appeared at the side of me at four o'clock, telling me that John was on the telephone, I decided that I needed to speak to him at some point. I picked up the receiver and that horrible sickly feeling came back!

“John, what do you want? You know they do not like us taking personal calls at work!” I said calmly.

“Ah, thank God Kat. You haven't replied to any of my messages! I was worried!” he replied.

“Worried about what? The fact that I cannot bring myself to speak to you, or has it suddenly dawned on you that you have lost me?”

“Please don't say that babe. I am very sorry and I want things to go back to how they were!” he said hopefully.

“Well I don't! Jesus, John, things can never be the same again! I will answer your messages when I am good and ready, but until then you need to give me some space – okay?” I said with force.

“Okay, okay. I understand you need some time to cool off!” he said flippantly.

“
Cool off
?” I said, realising that my voice was now so loud I was attracting an audience. I lowered my voice and continued; “I will never cool off from this, John. Now leave me be – I will talk to you when I stop hating you so much!” I finished and hung up. I rubbed my forehead and then reached for my mobile; I needed to let George know what time I would be back.

‘I will be arriving at Bexleyheath at 6.14pm. Would that be an acceptable time to have you collect me, George? I have quite a few bags!'

I felt instantly better for knowing that I was going home to George and James. I sighed and thanked God for my new family.

Once five fifteen had arrived, I started to tidy up my desk. I knew that I had plenty of time to get to the station and my official working hours were nine to five, but it was very rare that I left on time. Claire bounced across to my desk whilst re-applying her lipstick.

“Excited about the birthday tea?” she asked inquisitively.

“Actually I am! Oh, and before I forget, I am having a birthday party at my new house soon – I hope that you will come?” I told Claire.

“Really? Ooh, how exciting. What date? I am definitely coming to that! Can you introduce me to the hottie?” she then asked.

“Claire, I have explained that I cannot make you see him. You have to see him for yourself!”

“Yeah, yeah, like some magic fairy tale, I know!” she sarcastically replied, making hand gestures. “So when is it and what are you doing?” she asked with excitement.

“The dress code is black tie and ball gowns, and I'm having a band and caterers. I booked the caterers this afternoon, actually!” I replied. “I have printed the invitations and I will post them tomorrow after writing the envelopes tonight; it is on Saturday 22
^nd
September.”

“So organised! It's your thirtieth, isn't it?” she then enquired

“Yes it is, but I do not want a big fuss Claire!” I pointed at her meaningfully. She smiled.

“Spoilsport!” she muttered. “Can I help with anything? Decoration, organising the house, picking out your outfit?” she inquisitively asked.

“Actually, it would be really nice if you could help with all of the above!” I replied, feeling glad that she had asked. “All the female company I can get at the moment would be an absolute bonus!”

“Brilliant, just tell me when. I am definitely free this weekend,” she informed me.

“Great! Well definitely Saturday then, why don't you stay over?” I asked, hoping that James and George didn't mind.

“Oh my God, I would love to! Big house, interesting stories – so you keep telling me – plus the possibility of swooning over some handsome guy… and I get to spend time with you!” she excitedly chirped.

“Well, that's settled then. Saturday it is! I must get going or I will miss my train!” I replied as I put on my coat.

“Don't forget those bloody cakes. I went to a lot of trouble carrying those!” she then reminded me.

“I am going to get them now!”

“Goodnight Kat, have a good evening!” she called as she rushed for the elevator. I waved my hand in reply and went to the kitchen to retrieve the box from the fridge.

The tube ride was unusually quiet tonight, but maybe that was because I was travelling in the opposite direction, and earlier than normal. When I walked onto the platform at King's Cross, it was a relief to get a blast of cold air, even though it was filled with diesel fumes and food smells from the nearby restaurants. I had purchased a return ticket this morning and so I simply found a seat on the train – which was a novelty – and placed my bags on the one next to me. I smiled as I looked out of the window; what a refreshing change to my usual journey home. I was looking forward to getting out of the city centre, and to being welcomed back by George to my new home.

As the train slowly pulled away from the platform, I looked at my phone. There were no more messages from John – hopefully that meant he had got the message that I had no intention of speaking to him yet. I happily placed my phone back in my bag and relaxed into the seat for the twenty-seven-minute journey to Bexleyheath. Far more enjoyable than the hot tube ride. I knew that George would be waiting, as he had replied to my earlier message simply with: ‘Yes, I will be waiting. Glad to see you are back in the world of technology!' It had made me smile.

I had to stop yawning as the train pulled in; having a seat on the train was the most relaxing way of travelling. I picked up my bags and made my way out of the station toward the car park. I had no sooner walked out of the front doors than George was there, asking if he could carry my bags. It was a very strange feeling, being waited on, quite chivalrously, but I had to admit that I liked it. George chatted the whole way home and asked about my day. I told him about John telephoning me and the outcome, but he seemed glad that it was not affecting me as severely now. As we drove down the driveway of Northfield I let out a small sigh.

“Happy to be home after a long day?” George asked, smiling.

“Yes, I am! I do love it here so much,” I happily replied.

As we stepped out of the car and I reached into the boot for two of the bags, George gathered the other three and prompted me to go inside. It was fast becoming dull again, as well as dark, and the promise of rain seemed inevitable. I walked in and shrugged off my coat, and suggested that I change into something more casual while George took my shopping. James was nowhere to be seen, but I was glad of this as it meant that I could hide his present for a while longer.

When I returned to George's apartment, present and card in hand, they were, as always, chatting generally about things – one of them being my party, but I had to put a stop to that, for today was not my day! I walked in with feeling.

“Right, enough about my party. Today is all about you, James, and it is your birthday so come here!” I beckoned to him as I walked to the mirror in which he stood and prompted him to come nearer. As he did so I asked him to turn his face close to the glass; I kissed his cheek – not that he would feel it, but the gesture was there. “Happy birthday!” I then announced as I turned to the island and placed his bag and card there, ready for him to receive his reflected copy. George just smiled back at me as James took a moment to straighten himself, fidgeting for a moment.

“Thank you!” he replied quietly.

“That was unexpected; I've not seen him lost for words for a long time!” George chuckled to himself.

“Look I know you said you didn't want a fuss, but I wanted to get you something. This…” I said as I touched the bag, “… took some thinking about, but I decided it would be constructive for you to have a small project that I can keep track of, and at the same time you are getting a small part of something that you have not had in a long time!” I finished as I turned to him and waited, with my hands clasped hopefully together. George had now walked to my side, he leant on the island next to me.

“This is exciting!” he announced.

“Indeed. I was not expecting presents,” James simply stated as he turned and walked to his version of the present. He slowly looked into the bag, and I was happy when a very large smile appeared on his face. He reached in, carefully pulled out the bonsai elm tree and inspected it with intrigue. “This is most beautiful. It is remarkable how it is nearly an exact miniature of an actual tree – like the ones in our grounds!” he continued as he turned it.

“Well, it's a little of the outdoors indoors; you did comment that you missed being outdoors. You need to love it and look after it, and as it grows you need to trim it to shape; there are special scissors in the bag. I am expecting you to approach the task willingly as something to keep you entertained!” I advised him. He looked in the bag and retrieved the scissors, then looked at me after placing it on his worktop.

“It is the most thoughtful thing that I have received in many a year – along with the painting from yourself this morning, George. Thank you, both of you; it is indeed a good birthday!” he smiled.

“Yes well just make sure you don't kill it, boy!” George sarcastically chirped as he carried on unpacking the shopping. I looked at James and winked, then turned to George.

“George, do not think that you are getting away that easily!” I said as I pulled the bonsai out of the real bag behind me. “You, my dear friend, are going to have the pleasure of looking after its twin!” I remarked as I handed it to him. James laughed heartily.

“Spoke too soon George!” he continued. “This is now indeed a healthy competition to see who has the best tree. I cannot think of a better present at all!” he finished.

I raised my eyebrows at George, who inspected the tree and placed it on the worktop alongside the scissors. Then he turned and hugged me and kissed me on both cheeks. “Thank you, it really is beautiful. James, I accept your challenge!” he quite adamantly replied.

“Oh dear, this may end in tears I suspect!” I replied as I started to get things ready. I had seen where George put the dishes away and so I started to prepare the food whilst they both bantered away at each other humorously!

Dinner was entirely enjoyable; it was simple enough but tasty – a good mixture of the basic food groups – and we all finished everything on our plates.

“Well, that was delightful!” George said as he patted his tummy contently.

“Yes, thank you Katharina. I also enjoyed that!” James replied.

“Well, it wasn't exactly the dinner of the century, but I decided something simple was the way forward,” I finished as I sipped the last drop of my wine. George reached the bottle to refill my glass as I stood and went to the fridge to get out the desserts.

The neatly tied box was quite heavy and I wondered how many desserts Claire had decided to buy. I untied it carefully after retrieving three plates and when I flicked the lid back I grimaced a little at her choice, and instantly had a vision of her laughing to herself all the way home. She had chosen three crumbly pastry desserts, filled with fresh cream and strawberries with a rich glaze, with patisserie cream in between and chocolate drizzled across the top. All in all it wouldn't have been so bad, but they were all in the shape of love hearts! Not only that, but she had got them to stick a further chocolate heart on top of the pastry, that had ‘Happy Birthday' in white icing written upon them. I could kill her; hearts would not have been my choice, but it was too late now!

“Is something wrong?” George asked.

“No, not at all – I do have a confession to make though!” I replied, still grimacing. “I asked Claire to pick these up for me whilst she was in Harrods and, I have to say, they wouldn't have been my first choice – she always was one to wind me up!” I finished as I started to place them onto the plates. Both George and James looked across, and then George smiled.

“I cannot see anything wrong with that choice!” he smiled.

I gave him an ‘I know you are only trying to be nice' look, but deep down I was wondering what on earth James was thinking about the whole situation. Love heart cakes on his birthday… I suppose it could have been worse, although I wasn't too sure how at that moment! I blushed a little as I placed it on the end of the island and very sheepishly said: