A Different Reflection (13 page)

“Goodnight James.”

“Goodnight Katharina!” he replied as I closed the large door behind me.

If I said that I slept well, that would be a lie. I had strange dreams, woke in tears a couple of times and was angry when I was awake instead of sleeping. I did feel that I had a watchful eye over me on a couple of occasions, which helped me settle a little easier. I was not looking forward to confronting John today and I knew that he would want to see me at some point. I went to the bathroom and took a hot shower, and when I returned to my room in just my towel I heard a small cough – an announcement that someone was there. I turned to the mirror to find James glance briefly at me and then turn around.

“Good morning. George presumed that you may be up fairly early and so he has made breakfast, if you would care to join us,” he invited.

“I would love to, just give me ten minutes!” I replied, and James nodded and wandered toward the door in the mirror. “Oh and good morning James!” I then called to him. He stopped briefly and then continued until he was gone.

Effort was not playing a big part in my appearance today: I wore jeans, t-shirt and a dash of tinted moisturiser. I did not suspect that they would mind me having breakfast with them whilst I had wet hair, so I simply tied it up loosely. As I approached the kitchen, I could hear them talking; they seemed to sound concerned with my wellbeing, which was nice to hear. As I entered, James stood and bade me good morning again, whilst George simply walked up to me and gave me a big hug. I hadn't realised until then how much I needed one.

“Good morning Katharina. How did you sleep?” he asked.

“Not as well as I would have liked!” I laughed lightly. “I am glad that I was here though, so thank you for having me.”

“It was our pleasure. Would you like some pancakes this morning? There is nothing like comfort food at times of upset!” George asked.

“I would love some, but only if you have something sweet and fattening to put on them, George. I think I need a sugar overload this morning!” I replied as I smiled.

“We can certainly help you out with that,” he said as he placed jam, syrup – both maple and golden – honey and fruit compote on the island. My stomach instantly started to rumble.

“So, what are your plans today?” James then asked as he watched me pour a little of everything on the stack of pancakes that George had just placed in front of me.

“I have no idea. I suppose I need to confront him and try to decide what to do with the outcome of the many answers he could give me,” I said, trying to be realistic.

“If you want to stay here for longer, you are more than welcome,” James replied as I sighed heavily.

“Honestly James, I could very easily hibernate here forever! However, that is not going to resolve anything is it?” I confirmed. He shook his head as he sipped his coffee.

“Well let's not worry about that too much for now. I need to tell you both about the phone call I received yesterday from Madison Cleaver,” George then said, with slight apprehension.

“The estate agent?” I asked.

“Indeed. He had someone enquire about the house – a developer, by all accounts, who wants to turn the house into apartments!” George reluctantly said.

“Absolutely not!” James said with feeling. “How on earth is that going to help us, George?”

“Well there is the slight possibility of more people seeing you!” George replied, trying not to dismiss the whole idea.

“I cannot imagine having this house broken up into pieces, George. I would rather stay like this forever than let that happen. This is my home – our home!” he finished. I could hear his upset at the thought.

“I am sorry, George, but I have to agree with James on this one. If you break this amazing house up into pieces, its whole character and ambience will be lost!” I said sincerely.

“Thank you!” James quickly snapped in response. I smiled.

“You're welcome!” I replied as James smiled back at me.

“What did you tell them?” he asked George.

“Well I said that I would think about it!”

“Well you can call them and tell them definitely not!” James snapped again.

“Alright, it was only an enquiry. I do not want to see this house broken up into numerous living spaces any more than you do. I am merely trying to understand what options we have – after over 200 years, we do not seem to be getting very far, do we?” George then said, with the authority of a father.

“Boys! Please! I do not think it is necessary to argue over this. Neither of you – or I, for that matter – want this to happen and so the answer is no, simple as. Just leave it at that!” I confirmed, then started to eat my pancakes again. I had no intention of listening to more disagreements today, but it did send a spark of an idea into my head about the money that my father had left me – my guilt money, as I called it.

Breakfast was hearty and I was more than content after my fill of everything, including three cups of tea. I sat back on the chair and watched the two of them chatting about everyday maintenance and things that needed to be addressed. In light of my current situation, it was a refreshing change to just listen and observe and not have an opinion on anything. I asked them to excuse me for a while whilst I went to brush my teeth and on returning to my bedroom I thought I had best look at my mobile, which I had set to silent last night. It made my stomach knot when I saw eight missed calls from John, and the same amount of texts begging me to talk to him and asking where I was. I sat by the window and looked across the symmetrical shrubs below my window that led to the lawn. The day was grey, but the view was still breathtaking – it had such a variety of green and gold and brown that even the very greyest of days could not look dull.

As I sat gazing out of the window, there was a knock at my door.

“Come in,” I announced.

“Katharina, are you alright?” George asked as he looked at me staring through the window. I took a deep breath and held up my phone.

“I will be when I have faced the inevitable. He has tried to contact me numerous times; I still do not know how I feel about all of this!” I replied as I hugged my knees tighter to my chest. George walked across to me.

“May I?” he asked, gesturing to the space at the side of me.

“Please do!”

“Can I say something?” he asked me. I simply nodded. “I know that we have not known each other for that long, but I do feel that I am a very good judge of character. You need to stop trying to reason with what you think and what he is going to say. Firstly, you cannot possibly understand how you will react until he has had the time to explain himself; only then can you make a decision. Secondly, I have believed for a long time that at times like this we usually, deep down, somewhere inside, already know what outcome we want. It is whether you believe it is worth fighting for, and you will only know that in here!” he finished as he tapped his chest over his heart. “Our hearts are not unbreakable; they can sometimes be fragile, but they are usually sure of what they want and desire, even if the head hasn't quite listened to it yet. Just remember that whatever happens, they do heal and repair, and learn to find what they do desire, so if the outcome is not what you expect there is still hope!” he kindly finished as he placed his hand on my knee. I had a tear in my eye and composed myself for a second before sincerely replying.

“Thank you; I value our friendship more than you can know, George, even though our acquaintance has not been long. I've only just realised that recently I do not feel that I have many of the ‘real' friends that I used to, that I can just sit and talk to, like I can with you. It makes me happy to know that you are here… both of you!” I replied as I took his hand and squeezed it tightly.

“Chin up, dear. I am going to leave you whilst you call your fiancé and then, if you like, I will drive you back into London and wait until you know for sure that you want to stay there,” he then said. I felt very lucky that I had such a dear friend.

“Okay, I have found a little courage now. I will be down soon to let you know what I want to do!” I replied. He nodded in confirmation and smiled, then left the room.

After taking a few minutes to compose myself, I pressed the call button on my phone before I changed my mind. John had a lot to say; a lot of apologies and a very good explanation that, whether I wanted it to or not, sounded very believable. We spoke for nearly twenty minutes and then he asked me to come home so that we could discuss it further. I decided that I owed him that much. Whether I believed him or not, I could not deny that our relationship deserved the chance to try and make some sense of this. I straightened the bedding and tidied the room that I loved so much, and then I packed up my bag and took it downstairs and placed it on the chair in the hallway.

By the time I returned to the kitchen, George had made a fresh pot of tea and coffee.

“Would you like one?” he asked.

“Coffee would be great please,” I replied. He placed it in front of me and then looked at me for a few seconds before saying:

“Well, how did it go? You seem remarkably calm,” he then stated. I raised my eyebrows sarcastically.

“What is the point in being anything but calm until I have the complete picture and I can make a decision?” I took a sip from my mug.

“Very sensible, but do not take any nonsense. I am sure that you will be able to assess if he is telling the truth!” George replied.

I sat and sipped my coffee as I thought about the questions that I would ask John, and glanced at James a few times. He was restless and ran his hand through his hair numerous times. He had a t-shirt on today; it was black, and the sleeves strained against his muscles when he moved. I had to snap my train of thought back to what I was supposed to be focusing on when he suddenly said:

“Promise me one thing, Katharina. If you have any doubts at all, I want you to come back here,” he asked with feeling. I smiled at him.

“If you are happy to have me, and I need somewhere to go, I promise I will come back,” I replied.

“Good!” he replied as he stood. “Look in his eyes when he gives you the explanation – the eyes never lie!” he then said as he exited the room. I looked to George and shrugged my shoulders; James was very hard to understand sometimes.

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked George.

“No dear, nothing at all. It simply annoys him when others have relationships that they are so quick to jeopardise, when he cannot even attempt to have any!” George smiled. “Do not worry about him. He feels the same way as I – you are our friend and he does not want to see anyone hurt you!”

The thought that James cared about me as well as George was very touching and it made me smile more. I sipped my coffee slowly and carried on conversing with George, who had already decided that he was taking me back to the city. We spoke about the impending meal on Tuesday with Rachel, and George remarked on how much he hoped that it wouldn't be long until they could live a normal life. By the time I was ready to go, James had still not returned. As we wandered into the entrance hall, George shouted him quite loudly, which made me jump.

“James. I am taking Katharina back home. Are you going to say goodbye?” he asked. In no time at all, James appeared in front of me at the large mirror.

“Goodbye, Katharina. I look forward to seeing you on Tuesday,” he said quickly.

“Yes, Tuesday – I look forward to seeing you as well,” I replied. I stood for a second and then turned to get my bag.

“Oh and Katharina, I wish you luck – if this is what you want!” James then stated. I stopped and turned to him.

“Thank you,” I replied, and then smiled before leaving.

I felt sad to be going, and all the way back to the city John was not in my thoughts as much as James was. George did make me think once or twice that he did not drive as often as was probably needed to be a confident driver, but I was grateful that it was Sunday and the traffic was relatively quieter than it was in the week. We pulled up outside my apartment block and I took a deep breath.

“Thank you, George. It was very kind of you to drive me home,” I said as I looked out of the window and at the front door. “Wish me luck!” I said as I opened the door and stepped out.

“Luck, my dear, is not what you are searching for. Honesty and truth I think prevail above luck. You are a very special young lady, just remember that!” George said with sincerity. I nodded in approval and then shut the door of the car, waved and watched him pull away, then went inside. As I stepped into the elevator, my stomach started to knot… I was definitely not looking forward to this.

As I placed my key into the lock and turned it, John almost pounced at the door and opened it. He grabbed my bag and threw it into the apartment and then gave me the biggest hug. With my arms crushed down my side, I was glad that I didn't have to reciprocate; I was not sure yet whether I wanted to.

“Jesus Kat, where did you go? I could have explained!” he said in my ear. I pulled away from him and closed the door.

“That's just the point, John; you would not have had to explain anything to me if you had just been honest in the first place,” I replied. He rubbed his head.

“I knew that you would react like this!” he said, gesturing at me.

“What did you expect? You lied to me, John!” I said with force as I pushed past him and toward the kitchen. I needed a glass of water. “I now have no idea what happened between you and Nadine!”

“Well it's as I told you – everyone left and we were hungry so we decided to go and eat! We'd had a fair bit to drink and she fell asleep on my shoulder, hence the lipstick smudge!” he then replied, slightly agitated.

I stood for a minute and looked at him and thought about what James had said. As I asked the next question, I looked him directly in the eyes.

“So nothing happened between you and her?” I asked openly. He looked at me briefly, then looked down at my hands, which he took in his, and then looked back at me.

“No, nothing happened!” he replied. As I stood and looked at him, I felt in the pit of my stomach that he was still not being completely honest – and the fact that he could not keep constant eye contact with me was telling – but I just couldn't face ending it right here, right now, either. I swallowed hard.

“You need to tread very carefully, John. I feel very vulnerable at the moment, but I will give you the benefit of the doubt this time!” I heard myself saying.

“Ah, thanks Kat. I knew that you would understand once I explained!” he replied as he hugged me again.

I cannot say that I felt elated that my relationship hadn't just ended; I just felt deflated that I did not feel better than this. I was fast starting to question my whole relationship with John, but for the coming days I had to try. We spent the day lounging around the apartment and watching mindless television together on the sofa and John, by all accounts, was very attentive. He did not seem too keen when I eventually told him where I had spent the night, but for once I did not care; both George and James had been the support that I needed at that moment and whether John liked it or not was of no relevance to me. We had take-out and then went to bed early, as both of us had a lot on at work the next day. I hoped, as I started to fall asleep, that Monday would bring a better day, with something else to focus on for now.

Monday arrived. The tube was ridiculously busy and when I arrived at work I felt like I had already done three hours' work just fighting my way to get there! I ran a brief synopsis of my weekend by Claire, who by all accounts was not happy with John at all. She started to raise questions that I had tried to ignore and during lunch I realised that I still was not one hundred percent sure that I had done the right thing. Maybe I should have had some space for a while? I was trying to be positive and the day did get better when the photographs from the interview on Friday arrived on my desk and turned out to be amazing; the photographer had found it amusing to put some in there of me talking to the soldiers. I hated having my photograph taken and I had made this quite clear, but obviously he did not listen. I placed them all onto a board so that I could choose the best five, which was what I had been allowed for my piece. I quickly placed the ones of me back into the envelope and put them in my bag between the pages of the diary that George had kindly loaned me: they were definitely going home and out of the way of any colleagues.

After that, my day went better than expected; the first draft of my story was entirely complete. I sent it across to Angela with a note that I had the photographs and would let her see them as soon as I had chosen the ones that were right for the piece, and then kept my fingers crossed that she was happy with it. I sat back into my chair and took a sip from my water bottle as my phone bleeped; it was Rachel. I smiled, knowing that I would see her tomorrow, but when I opened the message I was disappointed to see what she had sent.

‘Kat, I am so sorry but I will have to cancel tomorrow evening. I have the most amazing news… I have just been promoted and have been offered the chance of working in the New York office for a year or two. I need to have numerous meetings this week and plan as it will be happening quickly! I want to see you before I leave, so I will be in touch soon… XXXXX'

I sighed heavily; not because I wasn't pleased for her – I was happier for her more than I could express – but I felt exceptionally sorry for James and George. That was another one that I would have to cross off my list now. I replied quickly to tell her how amazing it was and not to worry. I then promptly sent Kate a text, who not only was successful and wealthy, but very down-to-earth. I hoped that she would be free soon.

I had to let George and James know the news. George had text me last night to ask if I was alright, which was very sweet. I tried to break the news gently and decided that a text was better, as I did not want to hear the disappointment in his voice. He simply replied to my lengthy text with ‘Not to worry' and thanked me for trying so hard. I felt like I had let them down and so I replied again and told him that I had already sent Kate a message. It took a while for him to reply to that; I had the impression that he was not too fond of technology.

‘Katharina, you seem to have enough to worry about at the moment; please do not worry yourself over us. If Kate would like to join you here for a meal soon, that is wonderful; if not, we will work something else out. Am I to assume that in light of this we will not be seeing you for a little while?' As soon as I read it, I felt a twinge of guilt. I enjoyed spending time with them far too much, but I did needed to focus on my own relationship for now and so I decided that it was better to have a week focusing on that and work. I reluctantly replied stating it was unlikely, but that I would be in touch soon.

The week slowly continued and I got the go-ahead from Angela, with a few editorial notes. I had selected the photographs and had her approval on that, so the week had resulted in some kind of achievement. John had tried to get home a little sooner on most nights and whilst I sat at home waiting for him, I tried to remain positive. It was Thursday, finally, when Kate replied to me saying that it had been far too long and she would love to meet for dinner, but she could not do it until the following Monday. I let George know straight away, but I called him this time. It made me happier than I can tell you to hear his voice and remarkably I could hear James in the background too. We caught up briefly on the week and he exclaimed that he would be glad to see us on Monday. Once I had finished arranging with George, I texted her back immediately to confirm. Knowing that Kate would be driven there by her personal driver, I decided to ask her to meet me there. Maybe the first sight of the place may make her love it more if she saw it on her own; she certainly had the money to buy into it!

The next few days passed slowly. John and I went for dinner on Saturday night, which I tried to enjoy, but I felt slightly distracted by the fact that he was acting like absolutely nothing had happened. He mentioned work and her, numerous times, without thinking. I know that we were trying to make amends, but work was not at the forefront of my mind during a supposed romantic dinner. I was finding it harder than him to just move on and forget what had happened, not to mention that I still had a nagging feeling that he was not being completely honest with me. John went off cycling with friends on Sunday; it gave me the chance to loudly play some music of my own choice. I decided to bake some brownies for tomorrow evening, then I did a face pack – all the de-fuzzing necessary when you are a woman – and took a lengthy hot bath with a glass of wine. I found it very relaxing laying in the bath with my eyes closed, but I did find my thoughts drifting off to the image of James as Taylor Swift sang ‘Everything Has Changed'! I thought of the first time I saw him, his image, his words… they played around in my head whilst I listened to the song. Then I jumped and sat up in the bath. What was I doing? Did I have feelings for James that I was trying to deny? There is no doubt that I was attracted to his looks, but I didn't know him that well, even though he had told me a lot about himself. I turned and looked at my workbag that lay on the bed and remembered that I still had his mother's diary. I sipped the last of my wine, dried and got into some lounging clothes and then took out the large diary of events at Northfield.

I was engrossed in her intricate writing about all of the small details that she had thought relevant to enter. Some were entirely about James and Howard and some about the loyal staff, who she had obviously been so grateful for. I smiled when George was mentioned numerous times, particularly at keeping James out of mischief. After it reached the time of Howard's demise, she entered less regularly; her writing was decidedly shakier and it was more about herself. I had images of what she was going through and dealing with as I carried on reading, and as tears streamed down my face I was snapped back to reality when the door slammed and John marched in and went straight to the fridge.

“Hey babe what you doing?” he asked before he downed a whole pint of juice.
Okay, so we are back to that name I hate
, I instantly thought. I composed myself for a moment and then replied:

“Just reading up on some things for work,” I replied, telling a small white lie.

“Cool!” he replied as he marched to the bedroom. “I'm off for a shower, fancy joining me?” he asked. I turned and looked at him, and for the first time I started to realise that we had nothing in common any more.

“No, thank you. I have just had a really hot bath. I need to read up on this!” I replied, trying to sound convincing as I lifted the book and gestured to it. He simply shrugged his shoulders and replied “Your loss!” with an attitude. This made me just stare as he walked into the bedroom and closed the door.

“Arse!” I said to myself.

The evening was quiet. I continued reading, using my envelope as a bookmark, I was finding it hard to put down the diary. It was so sad, but it gave me more information on James and how much he was loved by his mother. I looked across at John, who had been asleep for a couple of hours since eating, and due to a long cycle ride. I was happy when it was time to settle into bed, knowing that I would get to see George and James tomorrow evening. I had already told John that I was having dinner with Kate, so I had no excuses to make for being late back tomorrow evening. I slept better than expected and as Monday morning arrived, with the added benefit of some sunshine, I smiled, stretched, sighed and then started to get ready for work.

Work was genuinely going along with no hitches at the moment. I had been given another assignment in light of the fact that I had drafted and completed my other article so efficiently. Angela had asked me to cover a recent local story about a local company that was entering the London Marathon to raise money for a director who had been diagnosed with cancer. A friend of Angela's worked there and she was intrigued by the fact that the whole team of employees were so devastated, and so loved the director and his work ethics, that they had all agreed to take part. Her friend had quoted that it was ‘the best place in the world to work'. Angela wanted to know why, and what his secret was! It certainly sounded inspiring and, in light of the fact that it kept anyone from asking about Northfield, I happily agreed.

My story about Mrs Holt and the soldiers was to go into the next issue, which would be going to print this week, so I was happy about that. I informed all relevant parties to watch out for it. It was five o'clock before I knew it and as I had brought something less formal to wear, I went to get changed and touch up my make-up. Claire came in whilst I was at the mirror.

“Hmmm, hot date?” she asked.

“Claire!” I snapped. “I am engaged,” I reminded her.

“Yes, and I'm sure you won't mind me saying – to a complete arse!” she remarked. I stopped applying my mascara and stared at her in the mirror. “What?” she asked. “I'm only being honest. I think that you can do far better!”

“Well, I know that we have had our ups and downs of late, but I am trying! Anyway, I am meeting my friend Kate – I haven't seen her for ages!” I confirmed. Claire simply shrugged.

“Shame, you look hot!” she smiled as she winked at me in the mirror, and we both laughed at her remark. “Can we go out on Friday night? I think that a few post-print drinks are acceptable. First of the new series of stories and all?” she then asked.

“You know what, that would be great. We haven't done that in ages!” I remarked. “Yes, let's arrange it tomorrow!”

“Great, I can feel cocktails coming on!” Claire excitedly replied.

I said goodnight and went to collect my things from my desk. I wanted to get to Northfield a good while before Kate. It was hardly fair to have her turn up before I arrived. The traffic tonight was somewhat congested, but flowed once we had left the city centre. I arrived at exactly quarter past six, which I was happy about, as I had told Kate to arrive at seven. As I saw George walking down the stairs to greet me, I felt a warm happiness. I had missed him! He generously took my workbag and suit bag and then we went inside. It was warm inside, the fires were lit and there were fresh flowers on the round table inside the door; the scent was divine.

“George, have you gone to lots of trouble?” I asked. He smiled.

“Only the very best for our only best friend!” he remarked. I had the largest smile as I turned to the large mirror, where a very dashing James stood in black trousers and a pale blue shirt, open at the neck, and with a very neat new haircut – no long shaggy style now.