A Different Reflection (28 page)

“I should think not, I can think of nothing worse!” I replied, cringing at the thought. “Trust you to turn this into a binge drinking night; do you realise how expensive some of these wines are?” I asked Claire.

“I dread to think, but I am going to try at least one of them!” she then replied as she ushered George to his kitchen to find a corkscrew. I looked at James.

“I am so sorry, there is no explanation for her behaviour!” I said as I rubbed my head.

“No apology necessary, she knows how to enjoy herself… obviously!” James laughed.

“Oh, I assure you she certainly knows how to do that!” I replied.

The drinks flowed – far too many in fact, where I was concerned – and Claire, in her usual boisterous way, had George dancing yet again, to pop songs that I am sure were not to his taste, but he indulged her nonetheless. James and I laughed at them and the fact that I was slurring my words, along with Claire. George and James seemed completely in control and that frustrated me a little. I went up to James and quite decisively pressed my index finger against the mirror at him.

“Do you ever consume enough alcohol to become the slightest bit inebriated?” I managed to say without slurring too much. He smiled.

“Oh believe me, I have had more than my fill, and I am sure it will cause some affliction in the morning!” he said.

“Hmmm, we shall see. At least I have managed not to completely embarrass myself this evening!” I sniggered as I started swaying.

“The evening is the worse for it, I feel!” James remarked humorously.

“Are you saying that you enjoy seeing me behaving inappropriately?” I asked with annoyance.

“I enjoy seeing you behaving so free-spiritedly! I do not wish any affliction upon you, but it does make me feel warmly toward your nature when you are so relaxed with both George and I!” he replied.

“I feel that you are one of the most kind-hearted people I have ever met, James Aldersley, and you say the nicest things! I am so glad that I met you,” I said as I placed my hand against the mirror and he in turn placed his against mine. We stood and looked at each other. At first I thought it was the wine, but soon I realised that I was breathing heavily, with the sensation of an overactive bottle of champagne being opened in my stomach. I confirmed to myself right then that I had intense feelings for James and I suddenly became very aware that I felt incredibly vulnerable.

I snatched my hand back to my side, and he looked at me with slight concern. I placed my glass down on the table and then quietly said before turning away from him:

“Forgive me – I feel that the effects of this wine have allowed me to put you in an incredibly uncomfortable position. I think it is high time I retired before I make a fool of myself!” What was I thinking? Plain Katharina attached to a man with such distinguished credibility, good looks and charm? Regardless of his past, how could he ever fall in love with someone as plain as me? I did not wait long enough to hear him say:

“You do not realise how much I have hoped to see such a reaction from you!”

I forcefully marched over to George and Claire and informed them that I needed to retire before I fell over. We exchanged cheek kisses and I left the room, shouting goodnight as I walked.

I was not aware of James shadowing me, but I heard Claire say to George: “Is there more to those two than I know?”

“I fear not, but it would be a match to envy any from any novel or film that I have ever come across!” George replied.

I swallowed hard and shook my head; obviously my behaviour toward James was becoming noticeable to others too, and so James was bound to be aware. I stopped and took off my shoes before continuing up the stairs and as I turned down the corridor to my room I was aware of James' presence.

“Are you following me?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

“I merely wished to see that you arrived to your room without injury!” he replied. I smiled at his casual response, then he continued: “Katharina, I do not want you to retire without accepting a response from me to your last comment!”

“James, please don't – you have no need to make me feel better or try and resolve my obvious lack of tact. I understand that I am average and plain and I should not make gestures toward you to make you think that I am trying to attach myself to you.” I grimaced in the knowledge that he felt the need to smooth things over with me, but I did not expect his response.

“My pride has often been in the way of my feelings, but your complete tenderness to my plight and your selfless endeavour to end it has indeed captured my heart. I cannot allow you to retire feeling that you have made a fool of yourself, for your complete honesty and unselfish behaviour toward me, make me think of you as nothing less than my saviour! In response to your last comment, any attachment to you – friend or otherwise – is truly my honour!” he said it with such warmth that I almost melted… it took me a while to reply.

“As always you calm my worries with your words!” I replied; he acknowledged my response by nodding once. “To know that you are not repulsed by my honesty and actions pleases me more than I can say!” I finished, then I smiled, and before I realised what I was doing I had walked to the mirror, raised myself up on my tiptoes and kissed it in the vicinity of his cheek. When I lowered my heels, I stayed where I stood for a moment, my breath condensing on the mirror, and I listened to his breathing, which was now exaggerated. I stepped back, looked at him and simply said: “Goodnight James.”

“Goodnight Katharina,” he replied as I opened my bedroom door. “I hope that tomorrow sees us not too afflicted by the consumption of old wine!” He smiled.

“Oh I really hope so too!” I replied.

“I shall return downstairs and see if Claire and George are ready to retire!” he then informed me before he turned to leave. I closed the door and smiled to myself. Perhaps there was a possibility of us being more than friends, if he should ever have the inclination to feel any love toward me.

I managed to get to sleep easily; the alcohol made sure of that. However at approximately 4am I woke after dreaming, sweating and thirsty. My mouth felt like a dry desert, with the aftertaste of one too many glasses of wine. I decided to go downstairs and get a glass of milk to help me get back to sleep. The house was a very different place in the dead of night; reflections from the windows and the large clock's ticking in the drawing room were more noticeable than at any other time of day. I reached George's kitchen and quietly crept in, retrieved a glass and opened the fridge door. The milk was cool and thirst-quenching and I quickly drank a glass and refilled it. I closed the door, glass in hand, and nearly jumped out of my skin.

“You are finding it difficult to sleep also?” James suddenly said.

“Jesus, I didn't see you there!” I replied as I placed my hand on my heart to slow its frenzied beating.

“I am sorry to alarm you,” he quickly replied. I laughed nervously.

“It's fine, you just startled me – I wasn't expecting anyone else to be awake!” I replied as my heart rate slowed down.

“Very well,” he calmly said, and we stood in silence whilst I drank my glass of milk nervously.

“I suppose we should be quiet in case we wake George?” I then said.

“He is usually a very sound sleeper!” James replied, but as he said that we heard George stirring in his room, so I gestured for James to follow me into the main house.

I felt like a teenager, creeping around the house, and unfortunately I was now wide awake. I paced the hallway, then wished that I had put on my robe as I was cold. I thought for a moment; I wanted to speak with James, but it wasn't right to be stood shivering in my pyjamas. I decided to take a plunge and ask him something that he would probably find slightly out of his social rules of etiquette, but after our earlier conversations I hoped that he would oblige.

“James, I am cold and even though I am now awake, I would prefer the comfort of my room.”

“Of course, I am sorry – please go ahead!” He gestured for me to leave.

“I was hoping that you would keep me company for a while?” I then asked. He glanced at me once and then half smiled.

“I should like that, if you are entirely sure?” he replied. I nodded in response and then started my way up the stairs.

I closed my door and climbed onto my bed and under the many sheets. The warm ambient light from the lamp made me instantly relax. James looked nervous and so I started the conversation.

“So, as we are both awake I think that I should like to hear some more stories about you from your past!”

“I am sure that my past would not make you think very well of me,” he replied.

“Knowing that you suffered or for that matter made others suffer slightly in your past does not stop me wanting to know more about it or you! After tonight, it occurred to me that there have probably been many times that you have been more than intoxicated from alcohol. Surely there are some interesting stories from then?” I smiled hopefully.

He was sat on the end of the reflected copy of my bed. He had his flouncy white shirt on, open at the neck, and his breeches; his hair was messy but I like that. It was arousing to say the least, but I managed to control my reaction. He pondered for a short time and then his face relaxed and he smiled.

“There have been a few moments in my past in which I thought my time was upon me,” he remarked, and then proceeded to tell me about all the amusing incidents in which he had lost control of any sane reasoning – enough to do something very stupid whilst drunk. He made me laugh, which was something that I had not done with such force with a man in a long time. I tried to muffle the sound with my sheets as I worried about waking Claire numerous times. His retelling of a duel with pistols – which he had insisted upon during a fight in an ale house – had ended up with him merely injuring the other party and them calling a truce. After both parties were continually falling over on the icy ground they gave up trying to stand still long enough to shoot. That is where the pistols in the attic had come from – he took them as a token of the day, and a reminder of his stupidity. It also came to light that George had accompanied him on this duel, and it made me realise why he felt such parental responsibility for James; he had been through more challenges with him than most parents ever have to endure.

I started to feel tired again; the excitement had worn me out. As I yawned and rubbed my eyes, I gestured to myself and my obvious state of exhaustion and the fact that I could no longer stay awake. I straightened my pyjamas and then looked to James and his attire.

“Where are your pyjamas?” I asked him. He shrugged. “You know, I think if you want to move on, James, it would be a good idea to start wearing clothing of this time period more often!” I remarked.

“I should but, in all honesty. I thought that if I were to dress in clothing from my period, it would be easier for you to relate to me!” he finished.

“It would be nice to see you in a pair of jeans again!” I confirmed, smiling, and then I reached over to the lamp. “Goodnight James. Thank you for keeping me company, this has been a lovely evening!” I said, before switching off the light.

“Indeed it has!” he said in the darkness, and then I drifted off to sleep happily.

Sunday morning was relaxing and satisfying. George had made the biggest English breakfast that I think I had ever seen, but he insisted that it was necessary in aiding a quick recovery from the wine last night. I had to say that even though I felt unwell the night before, I woke feeling better than I could have expected. Claire was not so great! She had finished the rest of another old bottle of wine with George, and retired to bed nearly an hour after I did. Even though she ate, she complained at her rollercoaster stomach and the fact that she had a very bad headache. I passed her some paracetamol and refilled her coffee; I had had the sense to take two when I had my milk in the early hours of the morning.

I had not made any comment, but I noted that James had arrived at breakfast this morning in dark blue jeans, which sat low on his hips, and a plain black t-shirt. He looked casual and fairly relaxed, and I presumed that he had done this for my benefit after our conversation last night. I smiled at him after giving him the once-over, then took a large bite of my toast, and he simply shrugged in acknowledgement and smiled back. We seemed to have a mutual appreciation and respect for each other, and the thought of that made me exceptionally happy.

The morning proceeded slowly. After reading yesterday's paper, I took Claire outside to show her around the grounds, during which she of course quizzed me.

“So, how long are you going to let James stay in this state?” she asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Well, it seems that he needs to make someone fall in love with him and they have to physically say that to him. What are you waiting for? It's obvious you think he's mega hot!” she then stated.

“Claire, I can't believe that you would think that!” I replied hesitantly.

“Oh come on… I mean, after John you could say that this is a bit of a whirlwind situation, but if he's as hot as that painting then I'd have had him out of there and in my bed by now!” she laughed. I pushed her in annoyance and then smiled.

“It's not as easy as that though – that's just it. I want him to love me too. I do not think that I am good enough for him, but you are right – the longer I spend here with them, the deeper my feelings for him get. I just feel that I shouldn't; I mean I have just ended one engagement!” I confirmed.

“Oh Jesus Kat, that is nothing, you could have been married five times already, but it makes no difference if you love each other! They are slightly strange circumstances, I'll give you that, and the fact that you have never physically met him is a little out of the ordinary, but… it is what it is, so make the most of it!” she said. I hugged her; she always was one for putting things into perspective. “Unless of course you free him and he either has bad breath or a small penis, then you may want to throw him back in!” she then laughed, and I couldn't help myself – I did too.

We entered the house in fits of hysterics after she announced that she thought the latter unlikely, and both James and George came to see what all the fuss was about. I had to elbow Claire to stop her from saying anything crude, but she simply stated that we were reminiscing about old times. The day was more enjoyable than I had anticipated and we went to the wine merchants to buy supplies for my party, played games, listened to music and I showed Claire the library – she was as fascinated with it as me, and we stayed in there for some time. When it came to 3pm she decided that it was time she returned home. She had errands to run before returning to work tomorrow – one of them was visiting her brother Scott, who had just started a new job; she promised she would call by to find out how he was getting on after his first week. George offered to take her to the station as he wanted to pick up a couple of newspapers and so after she had packed up we said our goodbyes. She offered to come back and help next Saturday, the day of the party, so that I was not stressing! George kindly invited her to stay for the night; he knew that I enjoyed her company. She looked at the large mirror in the hallway and said:

“Nice to hear you James!” she smirked to herself.

“A pleasure to have you stay with us, Claire!” he replied, and although she could not see him, he bowed to her. She walked up to me and hugged me and then whispered in my ear:

“His voice is to die for, so I know he's definitely hot. Get cracking, girl – I can't wait to actually see him!” She enforced this by slapping me hard on the right buttock. James and George simply raised their eyebrows at her in curiosity; hopefully they had not heard her!

The house seemed a little quieter after she had left, and I had not realised until then how tired I was. I asked James if he would like some tea.

“That would be very nice, but it does bother me that I cannot make it for you for a change!” he stated.

“That's sweet, but it's only a cup of tea!” I replied. We proceeded to sit in the day room; the view across the gardens was never tiresome and we conversed for a while before James excused himself and sat at the writing desk in the corner. As I picked up my book from the library to continue reading, he produced the journal that I had given him, along with what looked like the journal that his mother had written in. It frustrated me that I could not simply go and read what he was writing, as he dipped the quill into the inkpot and then started writing along the paper. I closed my eyes and imagined being next to him; being able to see him, smell him, touch him and see what he was writing.

It was some time later when George came back into the room and woke me up from the chaise longue, where I had fallen asleep. As my sleepy eyes opened, I looked at my half-drunk cup of tea that was now stone cold and then I sat up slightly and looked at James, who was now sat reading. George smiled at me.

“It seems we have one very tired young lady!” he remarked at my zombie-like state.

“I am sorry, how rude of me,” I replied, then looked at James: “I am so sorry for falling asleep in your company!” He looked up from his book.

“I could not be prevailed upon to wake you. You looked… serene. No apology needed!” he simply said, and his gaze went back to his book.

I sat and stretched and George handed me a
Sunday Express
. I placed it at my side and reached for my cup, which I intended to clear away, but George stopped me and told me that he had made a fresh pot and I should stay put. I took a deep breath and then circled my head a few times, trying to alleviate the slight tightness in my neck. James simply watched me and so I closed my eyes and couldn't believe it when I started to imagine him massaging my neck. I opened them again quickly and steadied myself where I sat.

“Everything alright?” he asked. I felt slightly flushed, but quickly answered:

“Perfectly!” I smiled and picked up the newspaper.

George returned with the tea, which was refreshing, and we all sat and read the papers, sharing them between us. I glanced up a couple of times and was happy to find them both relaxed and quiet and simply enjoying the time to read and take in news from the world. This was fast becoming a happy scenario in my daily life, and I loved every minute of it. I noted that James had now taken to relaxing with jeans, a t-shirt and no shoes – he was barefoot – and it made him more real somehow. I excused myself before dinner and went to refresh my face; the cool water was needed, as I could not seem to snap out of this sleepy feeling. I returned downstairs feeling much better; just brushing my hair made a difference, and I chose to pin it up for dinner. We ate – no more wine, thank goodness, and no dessert! – and then for a change watched a little television. By the time the news came on, I decided that was my cue to leave and retire to bed. James again asked if he could walk me to my room and I agreed.

“Well, this weekend has proved to be most enjoyable!” he remarked, smiling.

“Even with the complexity of Claire's character?” I asked. He laughed.

“Yes she is quite different, but I can see why you like her. She is not afraid to state her opinion, as firm as it sometimes is!” he then said.

“I have never known her to be any different. I think in some way it is for self-protection. It would be nice to see her settle down with someone!” I replied.

“I feel they would have to have a very strong character also! I would find her frustrating at times!” he said laughing.

“Well, it was simply nice to share something amazing with one of my best friends, and the fact that she could hear you was progress I thought?” I gestured to him. He nodded in agreement.

“Indeed, that has never happened before. I have the strong feeling that things are changing, I think it is for the better!” he then said hopefully.

“Well, we have next weekend to look forward to. I am really excited! I shall be shopping for my new dress soon with Claire; it is strange to think that by this time next week it will all be over!” I then commented sadly.

“Then we must ensure that we enjoy every single moment!” James said as he stopped beside my door.

“Yes, we must – and that includes you too!” I then confirmed. He smiled.

“Good night Katharina.”

“Good night James!” I replied before walking into my room and closing the door.

I walked across my room and realised that all of these formalities were things that I loved; James walking me to my room, his protective instinct at my wellbeing, his complete dedication to my happiness… all things that I had craved in every relationship, and yet I had never once seen James in the flesh. I questioned if I was doing the right thing, putting myself in this situation; maybe at some point soon I would wake up in hospital after a bump to the head and realise it was all a dream! For now, I wanted to live the fairy tale, including James, George, the house, the chivalry, the magic… I was in love with everything here. I smiled, realising that Claire was right; that love that I felt did include James.

I went downstairs the next morning very happy at my new realisation that I was – however ridiculous it may seem – in love with James. In the last few days he had proved how much he meant to me, and Claire, in her usual manner, had reinforced something that I was trying to hide. Even though I felt bound to him, I did not want to say anything just yet for fear of rejection and him not returning the sentiment. After all, I had just ended an engagement, which initially made me think that I may just be trying to grab onto anyone that made me feel wanted. I made a decision for now to say nothing until I felt sure that he had feelings for me, which could be some time – it was obvious that he found it difficult to express his feelings at all. In the kitchen, he was sat yet again at the end of the island, wearing jeans and a white linen shirt that was open at the neck and had the sleeves rolled up. He stood as I entered and I smiled widely.

“Good morning!” he calmly said and gestured for me to sit. George, with apron on, produced a pile of pancakes topped with blueberries and strawberries and repeated the greeting.

“Good morning!”

“A very good morning to both of you!” I replied. I was trying not to continually grin, as it would have them enquiring after my happy persona! They looked at each other and then at me as I started to help myself.

“I trust that you rested well?” George then asked.

“George, I did indeed. I feel better than ever this morning!” I replied, with a tone of contentment. They looked at each other again.

I ate, got myself ready to go and then bid James farewell, firstly by saying it and then by yet again kissing the mirror in the vicinity of his cheek. He raised his eyebrows at George and as I walked toward George I kissed him on the cheek also.

“Shall we go?” I then asked. They both stood still for a moment, and then George jumped to attention and followed me out of the door. James said nothing, which amused me – he was probably in shock at my actions this morning.

Work was fast-moving; my new story was well under way. Angela was impressed with my seemingly new focus and input during the meeting, particularly on other colleagues' work, and everything seemed to be slotting into place. Claire eyeballed me a few times curiously whilst she took notes, and as soon as it came to lunchtime we sat to eat at the small cafe around the corner. She said nothing at first, as I took a bite of my sandwich, but then asked:

“Okay – spill the beans!! What is it with you today? You are more confident, happy, being very constructive with everyone at work and still smiling! What happened after I left yesterday?” she enquired.

“What makes you think it was to do with anything at home?” I asked, smiling like a Cheshire cat. She folded her arms and scowled at me, and I put my sandwich down. “Alright, I came to an obvious conclusion last night: I love everything at Northfield!”

“I know that!” she said, obviously expecting a more detailed answer.

“… Including James!” I then said and looked at her, hoping that she wouldn't think I was mad.

“I knew it!” she exclaimed, banging her hand on the table. “I told you I knew that look. You certainly never looked like that at John – since a long time ago, anyway! Did you tell him? Is that why you're happy? Did he come out of the mirror and give you the best night of your life?” she then said and I nearly choked on my sandwich as she took a bite of hers.

“Oh my God, is that all that you think about?” I asked.

“Pretty much!” she laughed. “So?” She gestured for me to continue.

“It was everything; we sat together reading the papers, had dinner, talked, watched some television and then he walked me to my room. He always seems to know what to say, and it makes me melt!” I concluded.

“Well, if his voice is anything to go by I can understand that! Why haven't you told him?” she asked as she took another large bite.

“I am worried that he does not feel the same way. For this to work and the spell to be broken, he needs to hear me say I love him, but I want him to tell me that he feels that way too. If I declared my love and he didn't, I do not think that I could live there any longer!” I said with dismay.