A Different Reflection (9 page)

The drive back to the centre of London was long due to the traffic, but nonetheless it gave me time to run through my new reasons for not doing this story before I got to work. I parked and, as I rode the elevator to the office floor, I sighed. I had the story of a lifetime and something that I could never have dreamt of in a million years, but I could tell no one about it!

The doors to the elevator pinged and I stepped out onto the office floor, greeted Michelle, the receptionist, and then walked to my desk. I had to try and convince all of them the truth behind my dropping the story, and I already had an idea that I could put in its place from previous research. The first person that would be a tester would be Claire, who was very excited when she saw me arriving at my desk.

“Coffee?” she asked.

“Please, long journey in!” I noted with lethargy.

“Then you can tell me all about it!” she stated as she bounced away.

“Great!” I said to myself.

“Kat, how was the visit?” I then heard Angela call. I grimaced then turned to face her.

“Not that great, unfortunately! Nothing really to write about, just a slightly deluded old guy!” I raised my eyebrows at her and shrugged my shoulders to be more convincing, but remarkably she replied easily.

“Shame, but you know this job Kat… you win some, you lose some!” she chirped as she happily then went to Mark, one of our other journalists who was doing a piece on pilots and flight crew, which had her excited enough to take the emphasis off me.

I knew that I would have to produce something good. It was my job, and one that I didn't want to lose; I loved this team and working here. As I sat and pondered over the stories considered prior to George and James, a steaming mug of coffee appeared.

“So, tell… what was it like? How was he, and what did you do?” she asked with curiosity.

“Well, he is charming and the place is amazing! We had dinner and chatted and danced in the ballroom, then I came back!” I replied.

“Is that it? What about the intriguing story?” she asked.

“There wasn't one, unfortunately; he is just a very friendly, lonely guy who was given the right to live there by the previous owner – a dear friend that didn't want to see George left on the street, so left him the estate!” I said matter-of-factly.

“Oh, well I suppose it is sweet, but not what you hoped for!” she remarked, then leant forward. “You did have fun, though? I mean, a house like that and the chance to stay there – it must have been great!”

“Oh don't get me wrong, I enjoyed the whole experience, Claire. George is the most kind and gentle man I have met in a long time. In fact, I will more than likely keep in touch with him; I did find his company stimulating in other ways and he made me laugh a lot, which no other male company has done in a long time!” I replied sincerely.

“Well good for you! I bet that he is really glad that he has met you too.”

“Maybe one day I could take you to meet him?” I replied, suddenly realising that Claire was single. First innocent suspect for finding someone for James!

“Maybe… although I am not the same placid person as yourself; you know that I am a little wilder. I may be too much for him!” she then replied.

“We need to fall back on one of our other possibilities, Claire. I think I may get in touch with Frances Holt, the lady who has set up her house to take in soldiers after their return, in a bid to give them some respite. I think it will be a good place to start!” I then concluded.

“I agree, I think that is a fabulous story; I always was drawn to that one,” she confirmed. “I will get all of the details back out for you,” she said efficiently as she wondered back to her desk.

I sighed with relief; for the most part, everyone seemed to have accepted my lie for now! I had work on my mind and was also wondering how in God's name I was going to try and help George and James. I had to take into account the fact that I was going to be spending more time with them, which I knew was going to be harder to explain to John, who wasn't even happy with this first visit. I placed my head in my hands and closed my eyes briefly, then took a deep breath and a large gulp of coffee and decided to take one step at a time. A few more days after 264 years was not going to make a huge amount of difference to them. I replayed the whole fairy tale in my head, then blinked and looked at my computer screen to try and focus on work. This was like living in a movie and I was a main lead now. I smiled; the thought of James' blue eyes staring at me made my stomach flip a little.
Snap out of it
, I said to myself.
You're an engaged woman
, I quickly forced myself to remember, and picked up my mouse and started clicking away.

The afternoon passed quickly. I had already spoken to Frances Holt and arranged an interview in two days' time; she seemed very keen to do a feature with our magazine, so that was all in place. I left work that day feeling slightly better that I had achieved something, and in celebration of that I decided to cook John dinner. I texted him to ask what time he would be home, only to get the following reply: ‘Sorry babe, out with clients trying to close a deal. Probably be 10.30 before I am home!' I threw the phone onto the sofa at the side of where I sat. “Great!” I moaned to myself, then I shook my head – I hated him calling me babe. Darling or sweetheart maybe, but babe? Honestly, I felt like someone from a seedy bar! I decided that I couldn't be bothered to text him back; it wasn't like he asked how I was, and this was becoming a regular habit now, me eating alone. My mind wandered back to James and I reached across and retrieved my phone, picked up a notepad and pen and started to scroll through my contacts. I must have a few single girls that I know to introduce to James and George. I wrote the possibilities down and then looked at the list – four, including Claire at work. I scowled; this wasn't going to be as easy as I had first thought.

I made some pasta and sat curled up on the sofa whilst I ate, making a list of negatives and positives for each single friend that I had, and the potential compatibility between them and James. The only way to see if any of them were appropriate would be to take them to Northfield. I should speak to James first and see if he would agree to what I proposed. I looked at George's number on my mobile, and before I realised what I had done I had pressed call and he had answered.

“Katharina, good evening!” he said.

“Ah George, good evening. I just wanted to let you know that everything went well today – I think I threw them off your track and now I am hopefully doing a feature on another story that I had as a backup!”

“Wonderful news, thank you again for your help!” he sincerely replied.

“Well, don't thank me yet. My bank of single friends is not that big, George. I think that I may need another visit with you and James to discuss the way forward, so I propose meeting with you again, maybe on Friday about 6pm. I have to go and interview for the other story and I can swing by yours on the way back – it's not that far away,” I suggested hopefully.

“That would be lovely, we really look forward to seeing you. Can I offer you some light refreshment on your arrival?” he kindly asked. “After all, you will have been working all day!”

“Yes, alright George, that would be lovely! I will see you both then!” I replied.

“See you on Friday. Oh, and Katharina…”

“Yes, George?”

“I really do appreciate what you are doing for us!” he quietly said.

“My pleasure, it's certainly something new for me!” I laughed as he bid me goodnight and I him.

I had slipped into my pyjamas after a long soak in the bath. True to his word, as I was drifting off on the sofa whilst watching some series, John walked in the door at 10.40pm. He dropped his things at the island and walked across to me. “Hi babe!” he said as he kissed me on the forehead.

“Hi. Long day?” I asked.

“It was indeed, but I think that we have made some progress, so it should be plain sailing from here on in! I just want to get this deal put to bed as I have other pressing deals to sort. Not enough time in the day – you know how it is!” he answered as he pulled his tie off. “I'm just going to jump in the shower.”

“Alright, I am tired so I won't be staying up long,” I informed him.

He returned in his pyjama bottoms and with his chest bare. He picked my feet up, then sat and placed them on his lap. “What you watching?” he asked.

“Not paying attention – I'm too tired!” I replied.

“Oh yes, bad night's sleep. So how did it go?” he asked. I had long past worried about what he would think now. It didn't seem like anything I did really appeared on John's radar.

“There isn't really anything to tell. He is a very kind lovely older man, who is unfortunately lonely, but he has the right to stay in an amazing house!” I confirmed.

“Never mind babe, you'll find something else. So, he didn't try it on with you then?” he laughed. I sat up promptly.

“Jesus John, is that all you were bothered about? Not the fact that this is my job and it is important to me, or the fact that I was actually excited about it? No he didn't bloody try it on with me! I like him and I will tell you now that we will remain friends!” My raised voice shocked me too.

“Hell Kat, I do think you need sleep. I was only joking!” he replied.

“Well don't! I'm going to go to bed, I am not in the mood for arguing!” I informed him. In a bid to avoid too much more aggravation, I leant over and kissed him.

“I'm just going to chill for thirty minutes, I will be in soon. Have a good sleep babe!” he said with no feeling and without his eyes leaving the TV screen.

I wandered to our bedroom, shut the door and leant against it. ‘Babe' – I was definitely going to have to pull him up on that word. It was starting to really annoy me. I brushed my teeth and climbed into the remarkably smaller bed. As soon as my head touched the pillow, I was dead to the world.

Thursday was fairly insignificant. I had now started the new story and had done some background work before the interview tomorrow. The day rolled on into a normal workday, and the time flew by faster than I could have hoped for. I had to admit to myself that I was looking forward to seeing James and George tomorrow; not just because the whole situation of a spell had me hooked, but they did actually seem to be very genuine, lovely people. I smiled at the prospect of spending more time with them. I rode home on the tube and whilst trying to imagine James with any one of my single friends, I almost missed my stop. When I turned the key in the apartment lock, I suddenly realised that I couldn't remember the walk from the tube; I was completely wrapped up in this fairy tale. More than anything, I was trying to imagine the whole situation of a witch being present and casting a spell. How would I ever be able to convince anyone else that this was all true? I would have to let them see James first and then explain; otherwise I was going to end up sounding like I had completely lost it. John had been home and changed into casual clothes for a business ‘football match meeting' – his company had a private box. I knew that this was going to be another long and lonely night in. His note on the island made it quite clear that he was not in any rush to get home until he had closed the deal. I looked in the fridge, but decided that I couldn't be bothered cooking, so I ordered a pizza.

I felt remarkably tired again, and as I laid on the sofa hugging a cushion and mindlessly watching something on BBC 1, I hadn't realised that I had drifted off to sleep until I woke breathless and startled. I had been dreaming that I was at Northfield and I couldn't get out; I was running and running, and James was calling me. I could see George, but could never get to him, and then I smashed all the mirrors, thinking it would help James, but he simply disappeared and then George burst into a million tiny particles that all blew away in the air. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. That dream had been so vivid. I clutched the cushion tighter to my chest, calmed my breathing and realised that I really did care about helping them both and about what was going to happen to them. I looked at the clock; it was 10.15pm, so I switched the television off and put all of my notes away and decided it was bedtime. With glass of water in hand, I dozily walked to my bedroom and sank into bed, hoping that I would not have any more dreams as vivid as that one was.

Friday's tube ride to work was as expected: hot and crowded. There was nowhere to sit and then it was hard work fighting to get through everyone in the crowds. I reached the office in desperate need of a coffee. As I had arrived a little earlier I had beaten Claire, so I made her a drink, knowing that she would not be far behind me. At the usual Friday morning meeting I made a slightly poor excuse (and lie) for not getting anywhere with the intended Northfield story, but really pushed the new lead, which seemed to be taken well. I walked out of the meeting feeling relieved that for now I could carry on doing my job whilst on the side lines continuing to help George and James, knowing no one here was any the wiser. By the time I had grabbed a quick salad for lunch, it was time to go and interview Frances Holt, so I grabbed the car keys off Michelle at reception and took the spare car for the weekend.

The ride out to Mrs Holt's residence was easier than expected. She greeted me at the door and was most accommodating, giving me a wealth of knowledge about what she was trying to achieve. I was very impressed with her passion, motivation and generosity for helping returning soldiers rehabilitate back to some normality. She had a group of around four or six of them at a time, booking a multitude of activities for them as and when they felt they wanted to participate. She then helped them relearn the art of simple relaxation and talking to each other. She cooked all of the meals, did their laundry, and as her home was a large six-bedroom house with a swimming pool, there was certainly no reason to not enjoy it here. At the moment she was having a week's break and so she invited me to come back in a week's time when her new group of soldiers had then had the opportunity to settle in. She thought that I may like to get their opinion on what she was trying to achieve, which was all free of charge. After a couple of hours interviewing her, I made arrangements for the week after and asked if she would mind a photographer coming with me to take some pictures of her and the house and, if they agreed, some of the soldiers that she was trying to help. She was in agreement, and I came away feeling like the story was definitely not going to let me down in any way.