Omnia Vincit AmorChapter 2
- 3 years ago
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Both Claire and John, on their respective sides of the Channel, found themselves with no preparations to make for Christmas, other than buying presents for their families. Both had tried to take part in the organisation of the holiday, and both were gently but firmly told to relax and leave it to the children.
Phone lines between the two families would have been hot as tasks were assigned by Mary, if all the calls and texts weren’t by mobile. The dark December days passed quickly.
Mary, her two children and John Klinsman, still single and now a PhD and research assistant/lecturer, made the journey on the Sunday before Christmas, picking up Ellen on the way. Ellen’s children came with Simon as soon as school was finished.
“Mother,” Mary had said in her best ‘organising’ voice. “If you come over early we won’t be able to stop you trying to help. You won’t relax. So the men who can’t leave until Christmas Eve will escort you early on Saturday and drive you up here from the airport to get you here by early afternoon. OK?”
“Far be it from me to interfere with your plans,” Claire said laughing. “I’ll do as I’m told.”
The Pollards had arrived on Friday and on Saturday morning, and the Klinsman contingent were also in place by Saturday, the children all being involved with decorating the tree and the rest of the house, and so when Claire entered through the front door at Saturday lunchtime, the first people she saw were Adam (9) and Stuart (7), James Pollard’s children, decorating an entrance hall table with a crib.
“Hello Mrs Klinsman,” said Adam cheerfully. “D’you like our crib?”
Claire, completely taken aback, but as a teacher always concerned to encourage children’s enterprises, looked at what they were doing with real, unfeigned interest.
“Hello,” she said. “Wow! That’s really good. I love the greenery.”
At that moment Catherine emerged from the living room.
“Oh, hi Claire!” Catherine greeted her blithely.
Claire was by now speechless, and was casting about for a sufficiently civil response to Catherine, when Mary came into the hallway from the kitchen.
“Mum! I didn’t hear the car arrive. Have a good journey?”
“Long, but yes thank you Mary,” Claire replied suspiciously. Then, “Mary, I want a word in private.”
The glance with raised eyebrows between Mary and Catherine, did not pass unnoticed by Claire.
“If you will excuse us Catherine,” Claire said with a stony face. Catherine shrugged her assent.
The two women went into the dining room. Mary left the door ajar, which Claire did not notice, since she was seating herself at the table with her back to it. Mary remained standing, feeling more like a naughty schoolgirl than a twenty-nine year old woman, and the feeling annoyed her.
“All right Mary, what’s going on?” Claire asked, eyes blazing.
“Would you believe an accidental double booking?” Mary said with half a grin on her face.
“This isn’t funny Mary!” Claire snapped. “I’m getting tired of you and Lizzie trying to run my life. I made my wishes concerning John and his family perfectly clear, and you’ve trampled all over my feelings. If it weren’t too late on Christmas Eve I’d be on the train back to the airport. How dare you do this to me!”
“OK, I’ll admit you made your wishes clear about John, but you said nothing about his family,” said Mary with a touch of defiance. “And you really enjoyed the last Christmas they were here.”
“And methinks the lady doth protest too much!” came a voice from the doorway, as Elizabeth came in sporting a wide grin. “Anyone’d think John had insulted you the way you’re going on, Mother!”
“I’m sick of you two manipulating my life. And lying to me, oh yes, where’s the nice quiet restful Christmas with my family about me? That’s what you promised. No chance of that is there?”
“Oh Mother!” exclaimed Mary. “You know as well as I do that John’s family will rally round was well as ours, and you’ll get all the rest you need. And you’ll have loads of lovely extra people to talk to.”
“So his family’s here, but where’s John?” Claire stopped suddenly. “Wait a minute! Does he know about all this?”
“Well, actually no,” said Lizzie.
Claire sighed, and looked askance at her two daughters.
“Mum, you’ll get on really well with John; you know how lovely he is. We just want you and him to meet again, spend some time together with none of the baggage you had before. You have been avoiding each other, haven’t you?”
Claire caught the evening flight back to her husband and family with no problems, until, that is, she came though arrivals and looked for whoever was meeting her. She suspected in her bones that there would be trouble of some sort when she arrived. Peter had not phoned her at all, though the children had, telling her that they could not understand why she was staying away. She told them nothing, saying all would be explained when she returned, if their father had not explained it to them...
It had been just over four weeks since Claire had left John Pollard’s house, and John was once again used to being alone. He had been grateful for Claire’s presence and for their long talks, which he thought had been consoling for both of them. He had bade farewell to her hoping she had found a new way of living with her husband. He followed his routines. It gave structure to his life. He had also stayed for a while with his son James. James and Julie had made him very welcome, and it was...
The phone awoke the house early on Thursday morning. Claire answered and called to John to pick up his own. The police officer handling his case was ringing to tell him that Peter and Thomas were now in transit from Cumbria to the city and would be brought before the magistrates at two that afternoon. John as the victim was welcome to attend. The constable went on to say that if they pleaded guilty the procedure would be over that day; if not guilty, they would be remanded, probably in...
Note: Since John’s daughter is also called Clare, to avoid confusion his daughter’s name is spelt without an ‘i’: e.g. Clare, throughout the remainder of this story. On Saturday, the last day of July, Claire had letters ready for attachment to emails. She had written individually to each of her children except of course, Thomas. In them she explained gently what had happened, where she had been and why she had come to John’s house again. She had wondered as she wrote if compassion for his...
When the doorbell rang on Sunday morning, Claire grinned at John and went to the door. She opened it to find a young woman and a man. “Hello, you must be Clare,” she said brightly, “and this will be Luke. I’m Claire Klinsman.” “Pleased to meet you, Mrs Klinsman,” said the younger Clare with a smile, as the pair shrugged off their rainwear. Outside there was a fine drizzle. “I’d say call me Claire, but that might be awkward. My second name is Deborah, so perhaps I can be Claire D?” “D’you...
Though all her other children had replied to Claire’s email, there had been nothing from Elizabeth, and Claire felt the loss. Each day she had hoped for something the next day, but there was nothing from her. “I’m worried about Peter,” she said over coffee that morning. “From what the children say, he seems very depressed.” So he damn well ought to be, thought John, though he said nothing, but massaged her shoulders and back. “D’you think I should write to him?” she asked plaintively....
Claire daily looked for a reply from Peter to her letter, but none came. After a week she gave up. She sighed and at breakfast she told John of her decision. “I think it really is over, John,” she said. “I can’t go on like this. He’s not going to talk with me, and I need to get on with my life. I hoped I would get some sign from him to give me some – any – hope we could repair things, but I see now that’s unrealistic.” “So?” John’s voice was soft and affirming. “So I begin divorce...
Christmas lights had festooned town and city streets for some weeks already, and the news of the decree spurred John to ask about her plans for the feast. “I don’t know,” she answered him. “I wonder what the children have in mind. None of the children have kids of their own apart from Thomas, and he’s not talking to us. The whole family used to come to us. But I don’t know now...” “Same here. All mine live in striking distance, but Cath and Clare would come here and stay over.” John...
As January days progressed Claire became more and more morose, and more taciturn. John knew he could do nothing for her: it was her problem alone. He simply looked after her, and she often smiled her thanks. On the afternoon of Friday the 14th of January, the Friday before Thursday the 20th when she could apply for the Decree Absolute, the phone rang, and Claire being nearest answered it. John was in the kitchen, and heard what transpired. He heard her gasp of surprise and was ready to join...
Claire phoned Simon and told him she would not be applying immediately for the Decree Absolute. “I’ve had a last minute visit from Peter, and he’s getting therapy,” she said. “So I’ll delay until I’m certain there’s no hope.” “Fine,” Simon said. “You’re the boss, and I think you’re right. After the Final Decree there’s no going back. You can’t undo it. You’ll feel better in yourself if you’ve given the marriage every chance,” That evening, there was another phone call. This time John...
Claire emerged into Arrivals Reception pushing her trolley with two huge cases, two smaller ones, her laptop and some duty free bags. She searched those waiting and then saw Peter standing among the crowd. He simply stood. He did not wave to catch her attention and his face seemed emotionless, neither happy nor sad, though certainly not eager. She made her way to him and stood before him, the trolley between them. She looked enquiringly at him and he seemed to awake and stood aside. “Let...
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On the other shore of the North Sea, Claire Klinsman lived from day to day much as John had in the early days of his bereavement. She had returned to work at the same school, and ran the ‘English for Adults’ courses in the evenings, and that filled her days. With all the children gone as well, she could not face cooking meals for one, and consequently lost weight. She had written to John that the house seemed to echo with emptiness, but she knew that in reality the loneliness was within her,...
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