A Beautiful Forever (25 page)

When I told him I was going back, he also offered to help me
out money wise, once again I said no. However, it’s nice to know that I can
count on my parents in an emergency, nonetheless.

I got a new phone to replace the one I smashed and loaded
all of my photos onto it, that way I still get to carry her around with me and
see her whenever I want to.

Despite the fact she doesn’t answer, I keep calling her. If
I wasn’t so damn sure about our feelings for each other, I’d feel really
pathetic, but I don’t. I have absolutely no doubt in my mind – I know we belong
together. So I call her and leave messages. I don’t tell her much. I just want
her to know that I’m not giving up on her.

I’m back working at the same gym I was at before I left, my
boss knows that I’m leaving again soon, but some of my old clients want to
train with me while they can, so I’m grateful to be kept on the books.

So right now, I’m in the Botanic Gardens in Sydney, the best
outdoor training spot around here, packing up the resistance bands and mats
that I was using with my client, while I contemplate calling Paige again, just
to hear her voicemail recording.

“Elliot?” a familiar voice says to me. I turn around to face
her, amazed that this time, I’m not plagued with all the emotions I'd had last
time we spoke. “How are you?” Katrina asks me smiling.

“Well thanks,” I reply, returning her smile. It’s so surreal
seeing her and not having a desperate need to touch her. I still can’t stop my
hand itching, but it’s because I’m wanting to call Paige.

“I heard you were back. I figured I’d run into you here
eventually,” she says.

“Um yeah, I’m not back for long though,” I tell her, as I
pull the zip along the bag and sit on the ground.

She sits down next to me, like we’re old friends. “Yeah, I
heard. Our mothers have been gas bagging at tennis,” she says.

I shrug my shoulders, not surprised they still talk. “Well,
it’s good that their still good friends… So…how’s work? How’s David?”

She leans back on her arms and stretches her long legs out
in front of her, crossing them at the ankles.

“Good and good, what about you?”

“Well, works fine, but I haven’t seen David for years,” I
joke.

“Har har, very funny,” she says. “I um… heard about the girl
in London and was kind of talking about her.”

I think of Paige and give a wry smile, wishing she wasn’t so
far away right now, wishing she had just told me about her past early on, so we
could have talked properly instead of leaving it the way we did. I open the
gallery on my phone, selecting a picture of Paige and me when we went away
together the weekend before I left.

I hand her my phone to show her the image. “Her name is
Paige. I’m just waiting on my Visa, so I can go back to her.”

Katrina studies the picture. “She’s beautiful Elliot,” she
says as she swipes at the screen to move on to the next photo. I don’t want her
going through my pictures and reach over, taking it from her hands as she says,
“Wow! Is that a tattoo?”

All of a sudden, I bristle as my defences fly up, and I
switch of my phone, tucking it away. I know how some people look upon tattoos,
especially massive ones like Paige's, and I don’t want anyone judging her when
her tattoo represents so much for her.

Noticing a change in my demeanour Katrina shifts positions.
“I’m sorry Elliot. I shouldn’t have done that. The tattoo, well what I saw of
it, is pretty amazing – it must have hurt.”

“Probably,” I say quickly, looking up in the sky as I hear a
bird call.

Appearing a little awkward, Katrina stands up and brushes
the grass off her running pants. “I guess, I’d better leave you to it then.”

Nodding, I watch her take a couple of steps away. I feel bad
for making her feel like she has to leave, “Katrina – ” I start.

She pauses her retreat, “Yes?”

“I don’t know if I’m coming back, so in case I never see you
again – have a great wedding, tell David I said ‘hi’ and have a fantastic life;
I mean that.”

“I know you do Elliot, thank you, and I truly hope
everything works out with Paige.”

 “It will Katrina. It has to.”

“So, your father and I noticed that you’ve been looking at
flats in the paper. Are you thinking of moving out?” my mother asks as we sit
in the waiting room at the hospital as we wait to see a counsellor.

At first, I started seeing one on my own before it was
suggested that my mother accompany me occasionally so we can talk through how
her choices have affected my life.

“Mother, don’t call him that please. He doesn’t get the
title ‘father’ when I had to track him down in my twenties. Call him Daniel.”

“I’m sorry Paige; I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just
that we were wondering if we could help you, especially considering your
circumstances now.”

“I don’t know if I want your help, besides, I have to get a
job first,” I state, knowing that I’ll need to call Andrea for a reference.
She’s going to pitch a fit at me for not telling her I was still in the UK.

“Well, the help’s there if you want it... I have something
to tell you Paige, I um, have money that I put aside for you – in case I ever
found you again. After the divorce, I sold my partnership in the firm and
created a trust fund for you. It’s not a huge amount, but it’s enough to live
off, if you invest it wisely.”

Reaching into her handbag she pulls out an envelope that
contains the paperwork for a fund in my name.

“I don’t know what to say…” I tell her, quietly scanning the
documents.

“You don’t have to say anything, it’s the least I could do
to make up for things – not that I think it does, I just – I just wanted to
make sure you had something.”

“Thank you,” I whisper noting the start date of the fund.
She’s been holding it for me for almost nine and a half years.

“There’s some mail for you on your bed,” my mother informs
me as I walk through the front door of her house after work and find her in the
kitchen slicing up a bread stick to go with what smells like a beef casserole
for dinner.

“Thanks mum,” I say dropping a kiss on the top of her head
and pinching the crust the moment she butters it and drops it in the napkin
lined basket. “Is Steve home yet?” I ask as I walk towards the staircase
leading to my room.

“He is, he’s out in the garage checking the engine of the
car, he said it’s making a funny noise. He’ll be in for dinner though,” she
says as she pulls the curtain to the side in the kitchen calling out the
window. “Five minutes Steve!”

“I’ll be down in a few,” I tell her bounding up the stairs
three at a time until I reach the landing and enter my room. On the bed, I find
a small pile of mail with yellow redirection stickers on the envelopes
indicating that they were all forwarded from my flat to here.

Flicking through the pile, I find a mobile phone bill, my
bank statement, some junk that I don’t care about and finally, an envelope with
the UK Border Agency logo printed on it.

My breath catches in my throat as I stare at it, knowing
that this is my answer.

“Please be yes,” I whisper to it, praying that I’ve been
approved.

When I pull out the documents familiar to me after the last
time I was granted a visa, I can’t contain myself “YES!” I yell out racing back
downstairs to share my news.

“What was all that about?” Steve asks from the back sliding
door.

“I got approved!” I rush over and hug my mother, picking her
up and spinning her around as she laughs at my behaviour.

“That’s fantastic Elliot,” my mum says smiling up at me as I
set her down.

Offering me his hand in congratulations, Steve shakes mine
as he beams at me. “I’m gonna miss seeing you mate,” he says.

“Me too mate; I'm going to miss both of you,” I tell him
honestly.

“Don’t go all soppy you two, that’s my job,” my mother cuts
in. “Let’s have dinner, I’ll open a bottle of wine to celebrate.”

“Is the computer on?” I ask as they move towards the
kitchen.

“Yes it is, sweetheart – let me guess; you can’t wait to
book your flight?”

Grinning at her, I wink and disappear into the study to buy
my ticket. Suddenly, the whole world is so much more wonderful to me. I'm going
back, in only two weeks - I’m going back!

“Are you ready?” my mother says as soon as I open the front
door of my newly rented flat. It’s not that far away from where my mother and
Daniel live, and it isn’t anything exciting, but it’s my own space – a place
for me to start rebuilding my life.

 It’s one bedroom, one living area, a small kitchen and
bathroom, and it suits my budget. I can afford it on my own with my
hairdresser’s salary without having to touch the money from the trust fund my
mother gave me. I'd prefer not to touch it, unless I absolutely need to –
perhaps I’ll save it for my retirement or something.

My mother and Daniel have helped me buy furniture for it as
they’re doing their best to be a part of my life. We’ve come to an
understanding now, and we’ve been continuing to work with a counsellor to put
our respective pasts behind us and have the best opportunity for a family that
we can. It’s still weird though, I don’t know that I’ll ever come to view them
as my ‘parents’ in the sense that they are the first people I want to share my
world with – I just can’t see us being a family like that.

“Come on Paige, we’ll be late for your appointment,” my
mother chides me gently, still waiting in the doorway. 

“Alright, I’m coming – you don’t need to be at every
appointment you know,” I point out, reaching for a lightweight cardigan as I
sling my handbag over my shoulder and step out the door, locking it behind me.

“I need to make sure you’re ok,” she reminds me, walking
ahead of me down the stairs until we reach her car.

I hop into the passenger seat, and she drives us to the
doctor for my appointment. It's nothing serious this time; he just needs to
check on me to make sure I’m looking after myself and eating properly after
being so unwell lately.

We sit in the waiting area and chat briefly about an article
in a magazine before we’re called into the doctor’s office. My mother sits
supportively beside me as the doctor asks me a barrage of questions, checks my
health and sends me on my way, happy with my progress.

“I told you it would all be fine,” my mother says as we
leave.

“Did you?” I laugh before I take a nervous breath as
butterflies flutter in my stomach, “Well, I worry,” I say.

Today feels like the happiest day of my freaking life – I’m
finally on the plane back to the UK, and this time, I have five years under my
belt.

It gives me plenty of time to find Paige and try to convince
her that her past doesn’t mean we can’t be together. I don’t care what it
takes, I want to be with her. I need to be with her – she doesn’t get to push
me away this time.

As I do every night before I go to sleep, I replay the last
couple of voice messages from Elliot that tell me he misses me and still loves
me,  then I look through the photos of our time together. I have printed a
couple – ok, all of them; off and have them framed around my house – my mother
thinks I should just call him back and tell him what’s going on with me, but
now, more than ever he needs to choose his own path. I can’t let my changed
circumstances be the deciding factor in what’s best for him. He’s the kind of
guy, who will stick it out with me until the bitter end, and I don’t want that
for him, I want him to be happy.

I need to be strong. I can’t let my love for Elliot be the
only thing I focus on or my life will fall apart. I’ve spent the last three
months trying too hard to put it back together, and I’m finally at a point
where I don’t feel like my past is chasing me around, I feel like I can move
forward with my life, and I hope that Elliot manages to as well.

As I drift off to sleep, my dreams are filled with him.
Nights are my favourite time of the day now, because I can indulge in him while
I sleep.

Waking with a start, it takes me a moment to realise where I
am. I was just having the most vivid dream where I was searching for Paige but
every time I found her, she’d turn around, and it would be someone else. I
slide my fingers through my hair. I haven’t had it cut since Paige did it
nearly six months ago. I can’t believe it’s been so long, it feels like it only
happened yesterday.

I only have a couple of hours left on this flight before I’m
there. Jolene has agreed to pick me up from the airport, so I don’t have to
catch a cab this time. They don’t have a spare bed, but everyone is fine with
me taking the couch for a couple of days until I sort something else out.

My alarm sounds and I roll out of bed, yawning and
stretching the kinks out of my back. It’s time to get ready for work. I don’t
feel much like using a lot of product so I twist my hair up in a bun and pull
some curls down to frame my face, before I apply some moisturiser, mascara and
lip gloss.

I wear my black work pants, a white fitted singlet top and a
grey asymmetrical cardigan that hangs long in the front and short in the back.
Grabbing my keys and the salon keys, I get in my car and head off to work. It’s
my morning to open and prep the salon today, so I pick up some breakfast on the
way and eat it there.

“Well, hello stranger!” Jolene calls out to me as I wheel my
bags towards her.

“Hi Jolene, thanks a lot for coming to collect me,” I say,
she leans up and gives me a friendly hug hello and kisses my cheek.

“It’s no trouble, I got picked up when I arrived, so it’s
kind of a karmic thing to pay it forward,” she explains.