Undying (15 page)

“I’m sorry – I just don’t get you. You’re here now helping us, but I know you hate me. You say you care about us and are protective of James and you know that he loves me, yet you are constantly advising him against being with me. Why?” I asked interested.

Mr Kemp stopped pacing the room and came towards me, “I don’t hate you and I do want to see Mr Barclay happy, but both of you being safe is of greater importance!

“How are you even involved? I know there’s something between James and I that is incredible, but what about you? Why does James turn to you for advice, how are you a part of all of this?”

“You’re just not trying hard enough!”

“That’s not my fault, nothing makes sense! I think about what’s happened and why, but I always hit a wall; I don’t know what I am suppose to know or remember. I’m scared; there is nothing I want more than to put an end to this all, and to be with James. Please… help me figure it out.”

“I can’t – it’s not how it works. I don’t make the rules!”

“What rules? Who makes the rules?”

I grabbed his arm, something I could have never imagined myself doing.

“Please, please I’m begging you… Help me. I’m losing everything. I love him with all my heart and I’m being punished for that. Please, give me one more chance. If things aren’t clearer to me… I will back away, but help me”

Mr Kemp walked away, shaking his head, troubled by my questions.

“It’s just the way it is,” he said. “James should have never let you come, I warned him. I knew it would end badly. I prayed that you would be oblivious to it all, which you are, but I didn’t count on you falling for him so strongly and being so obstinate.”

“Mr Kemp… are you saying that you and James knew that all of this was going to happen before I came?”

“No, not all of it, especially not your dangerous encounters. Mr Barclay would never have put you in harm’s way, but he was so desperate to have you. He went against my advice and look where we are.”

“Help me! I beg you. Please, help me. Is there anything, anything that you can think of, that can help me figure this out?”

He didn’t answer me, instead walking towards the window and staring out for a moment, which seemed promising. If I have learnt anything about Mr Kemp, it’s that he speaks his mind and can’t be moved. The fact he hadn’t said no must mean there is something he could tell me, but he isn’t sure if he should.

He turned back, going to James’s desk, and writing something on a piece of paper.

“Grab your coat, I want to take you somewhere,” he ordered, shaking his head, mumbling to himself.

I jumped off the bed, grabbed a coat before he could change his mind and we left the room.

Mr Kemp’s car was a very old run-down black Bentley; it was dirty and looked like it hadn’t been driven since the 1920s. I tried to keep a straight face, as he adjusted his seat, seat belt, mirrors and everything else. Finally we were off. He drove unexpectedly fast, which reminded me of Richard driving slowly so the journey would last longer. Mr Kemp, I guess must be trying to reduce our time together.

I didn’t talk while he was driving; he seemed nervous and easily distracted. I wondered where we could be going. For all I knew, he could be taking me to the airport. But I had no choice, I felt as if I was losing James and I needed to take whatever help I could get, even if it was from Mr Kemp.

After a while longer the car began to slow, I immediately took my seat belt off and impatiently waited for Mr Kemp. He noticed my eagerness and rolled his eyes at me.

I got out of the car before he had a chance to turn the ignition off.

“Where are we?”

“Follow me,” he replied, disregarding my question.

So I did. The street we walked down was extremely traditional and seemed to be an affluent area. His walkgradually slowed and he started to walk beside me. He didn’t look at me, or speak a word. It seemed he was unsure of what to say.

“Is something supposed to happen?” I whispered sarcastically.

Still not speaking, Mr Kemp slowed right down and headed to a bench to sit.

“You continue down the street, I will catch up with you, I want to sit for awhile,” he said as he sat down.

”Walk where?” I am sure he could see the disappointment on my face. I turned around with a huff and continued up the street.

Stupid man, why did I believe that he was going to help me?

I stopped and turned back to see him lying back on the bench with his eyes closed.

I waited a second, contemplating whether I should continue or go back to the old smelly cigar car. Even though I was disappointed, and there was nothing here for me, I was in no rush to be in the car alone with him.

I decided to continue. A few minutes into my walk, a terrace across the street caught my attention. It was white with a battered dark-blue door. Intrigued, I crossed over for a better look. It didn’t seem to be occupied, newspapers stuck on the windows and spider webs on the rails made this house stick out for all the wrong reasons. As I stood on the path, I felt an icy-cold chill go through my body and a bitter taste fill my mouth. I pushed opened the iron gate which let out a ear splitting screech and headed towards the door, passing a small overgrown courtyard on my way. As I approached the door I became apprehensive. It had two glass panels that weren’t covered; I slowly brought my face close to the glass. The hallway was long and without light with papers on the floor and furnishings covered with sheets. Then without warning, the door started to shudder. I immediately let go of the door knob unable to pull myself away, I continued to peer through the glass until what seemed like a face slammed itself into the other side of the glass. I pushed myself away from the door in horror and ran back to the path to catch my breath. My heart was racing.

What in God’s name just happened?

I crossed over the road and quickly started heading back to the car, where I hoped Mr Kemp was. I wanted to get out of this place. As I approached the car, I could hear shouting. Unexpectedly James was now in sight.

“James!”
What was he doing here?

“What were you thinking, bringing her here?” James shouted at Mr Kemp.

“I thought if…” Mr Kemp tried to defend himself, but James didn’t let him finish.

“What did you tell her?” he growled.

“Nothing, I would never…” Mr Kemp pleaded.

“Just because you’re here to enforce the rules, doesn’t mean you can make them. Catherine’s safety is more important than your research!”

“Where is she?” he added.

“I’m here,” I quietly answered.

“Catherine.” James came to me, pulled me close to him, holding me so tight I could feel his heart beating.
Why was he so upset? He has never held me this way
.

“Can we leave?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said with sorrow in his eyes. I was confused, not sure what to make of what just happened. Surprisingly, I felt sorry for Mr Kemp. I know he was trying to help me but James obviously didn’t think so. Once in the car, neither one of us spoke. James was still visibly upset. When we arrived at the college, I followed him to his office. Once inside, he slowly lit the fire and came towards me. I didn’t like the look on his face.

“James… About Richard?”

“Catherine, I know what is being said isn’t true. I also believe that our love is powerful and that we can overcome anything. However, I also believe that your life is in danger when we are together. We need to stop this before it’s too late.”

“What are you saying?”

“We need to end this. I need to stay away from you. No good can come of this.”

“No good? No… No… You can’t stop this!”

James came closer towards me. He had tears in his eyes.

“Please try to understand,” he said with his lips tightened.

“No… James! No! Please don’t do this to me. I need you. I don’t want anyone but you.”

“We are not meant to be together. I understand that now. I promised you I wouldn’t make the same mistake again.”

I was broken and inconsolable. I stepped away from him slowly.

“You can’t do this to me,” I pleaded.

“Catherine…”

“Don’t!” I shouted, crying now. I placed my hands on his chest. I could feel his heart pounding. I needed to touch him.

I closed my eyes and moved closer to him, until our bodies were touching. I looked up at him. His face was shattered. But he didn’t want me. In disbelief I left.

When I got to my room, I was so inconsolable I wanted to scream. I wanted to see something break, anything… other than my heart.

How could he just give up on us? Weren’t we worth fighting for?

I felt sick in the stomach; I have never known my life to be so complicated. Could I be anymore unlucky than I am now.

I sat a while longer, thinking… trying to understand what just happened today. Why did Mr Kemp take me to that street? And why was James so angry? I don’t even know how to begin to make sense of it all. My first thoughts were that Mr Kemp was trying to throw me off, with no intentions of helping me today, but James’s reaction would suggest otherwise. What does that street have to do with me?

Could Mr Kemp have something to do with all this, other than just being a nuisance
.

I had to see Mr Kemp. I got up and headed for the door. As I opened the door to leave; standing there was the college cleaner, struggling to hold her collection of cleaning equipment.

“Hi… Mary, You gave me a fright,” I said, startled by her being so close to my door.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to give you a scare,” she said.

“I’m fine. Lucky actually, I almost forgot to leave my door unlocked,” I said, trying to be friendly enough so she wouldn’t notice my sadness.

“Well you would have been the first, no one likes to miss out on having their room cleaned by someone else,” she laughed as equipment started falling out of her hands.

“Oh!” she cried.

“Here let me help you.” I bent down and started picking up what had fallen. “Why don’t you bring your trolley down the hallway rather than carrying everything?” I asked impatiently.

“Trust me, there is nothing I would like more than that, but the hallway is quite narrow and I have upset a few teachers in the past, when they had to walk around my trolley. So now I leave it there out of the way,” she said.

“Here, I’ll help you take these to the room you’re cleaning, or is it mine?” I enquiry.

“No, I wish, I’ve just started, I’m heading to Mr Kemp’s,” she said as she started making her way to his room.

“OK,” I replied and started walking down with her. She kept raving on about how it would be so much easier if her trolley was just outside each door. When we got to Mr Kemp’s door she opened it and walked right in.

I couldn’t believe I was in his room. It was so messy! Books and papers were everywhere.

“Where do you want me to put these?” I asked, holding her cleaning products.

“In the bathroom please, I just have to go back and get the vacuum,” she said as she ran out.

I quickly placed the products in the bathroom and came back out. My eyes were everywhere, scouting unsure to what I was thinking or planning to do. Was I really thinking about taking something? Hearing the vacuum being dragged down the hallway, I knew I’d better hurry if I was going to snoop. I didn’t want to open any of his drawers, that would be wrong, so I pulled a few papers that were sticking out of a brown leather book on his desk and placed them under my top and immediately walked out.

“Thank you. I appreciate your help,” Mary said as she walked past me.

“You’re welcome,” I replied, heading back to my room.

I threw the papers on my bed and stepped back.
What have I done
? I felt awful and disappointed with myself. How could I do something like that? How could I possibly ever return them? I couldn’t…

I began pacing the room, not knowing what to do. This was wrong on so many levels, but it’s done now, I can’t take it back. Maybe it’s nothing important. It could well be a shopping list or scribbles.

“Damn.” I headed to my bed and picked them up. I sat on my desk and opened them up.

It was a grid of some sort with the initials J.B. and number 1878. Other letters and numbers were all over the page, but it was too cryptic. Was J.B. for James Barclay? Could this be what James said about Mr Kemp’s research? Why would Mr Kemp be researching James? On another page was an emblem. I paused for a moment.
I’ve seen this before
… I placed a finger on it and followed the outline,
and by heart I knew the design
. Where had I seen this before?

What was I suppose to do with these papers now. I would have to destroy them, but they could be important. I took them and placed them in one of the pockets of my luggage until I could figure out what to do with them.

I needed to be somewhere other than this room, so I headed to my classroom to find refuge.

I sat quietly at my desk with my face in my hands until there was a knock on my door.

“Excuse me Miss, may I speak with you?” called Mark.

I sat up and brushed my hair from my face and tried to find some composure.

“Yes Mark, of course.”

“Um… I’m sorry; I know this is none of my business. But I just want to know. Is it true that you and my father are together?”

I took a deep breath and tried not to take my devastating afternoon out on him.

“Mark, has your father said anything to you about us being together?” I enquiry.

“No… not at all,” he replied quickly.

“Then what has given you the impression that we are?”

“I know he likes you… A great deal, and the other students are talking.”

I gave him a warm smile. There was no need for him to suffer. He had done nothing wrong. What was I supposed to say? I more or less admitted to Jules that I was with Mr Cartwright. This was all Richard’s fault. His public behaviour this morning started all this. Jealous mothers, wagging tongues and James’s obvious outrage at seeing Richard with me had also contributed.

“Mark, your father is a gentleman and any woman would be proud to be with him.”

The words sent a chill down my spine. Mark had a great big smile on his face. He nodded and then left. Once the door was closed, tears ran down my face. I knew that this game I was about to play could hurt many people, but I had no choice. Jules had thought it, I had stupidly admitted to it, the school was talking about it and Mr Cartwright wants it. And now I was hoping that James would be so jealous that he would want me back.