Laura's Locket (5 page)

Authors: Tima Maria Lacoba

BOOK: Laura's Locket

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The range of choices was mind-boggling.

‘Okay if we split and I go over there?’ Angie pointed to a white marquee with the sign, “Eggheads and Boffins Science Club.” Science was her love and I knew she looked forward to a career in Food Technology.

‘Go, have fun, Angie. I’m fine. I promise.’ I smiled and crossed my heart.
No more moping over Philippe,
I angrily told myself.

She grinned at me. ‘Meet you here, in this spot, in an hour.’ I gave her a quick hug and she joined the queue. She’d worn a bright orange mini-skirt that stood out like a beacon—so I’d find her anywhere should we get separated.

I took a deep breath and scanned the campus. There was a particular group I wanted to join after seeing their advert in the Campus News—one of a whole bundle of papers in our enrolment package.

As I fingered the locket around my neck, Philippe’s face sprang into my mind—the hurt of never hearing from him again, still fresh. Each night I had waited for a phone call, a note, anything. Maybe the girls were right, and I’d been just a game to him, a fun way to pass the time while in Sorrento.

I rubbed the aching spot on my chest and again felt the locket beneath my fingers. Several times I was tempted to throw it away—but didn’t. Some perverse part of me still believed he’d never intended to leave me like that. Was I a romantic idiot?

Since then the pain has lessened, though I vowed never to fall for a guy that easily again. Lesson learned.

I shook off the memory and glanced around, trying to see past the hordes of students. Many of them bumped into me in their eagerness to reach friends or the crowded stalls. Then I saw it—a red and white striped marquee with the sign: Historical Society. Pictures of old houses, archaeological sites, even weapons—replicas, I assumed—adorned the poles and display tables. The two guys and one girl behind the counter wore period costume.

Seeing an opening, I pressed through the crowd and tripped over the rope that secured the marquee to the ground peg. A pair of arms reached down and caught me.

‘Hey, you okay?’ A deep, male voice asked. A tall, brown haired guy dressed as a Viking looked down at me, smiling. His grey eyes were ringed with blue.

‘Yeah, fine, thanks.’ I tried to keep my voice level to hide my embarrassment.

‘I kinda like the idea of a girl falling for me!’ He grinned and the pupils in his eyes expanded almost obscuring the grey.

‘That the best line you got?’ I tried not to laugh as I brushed down my shorts.

‘Nah, heaps more, even worse than that one.’ His face lit up as he laughed—so infectious I couldn’t help but join in.

‘My name’s Tim.’

‘I’m Laura.’

‘This yours?’ He bent and picked up my locket from the grass.

‘Um, thanks.’ The clasp was broken, and for a fleeting moment, as I peered at it, Philippe’s face appeared in my mind. I pushed the image aside, and slipped the locket into my short’s pocket.

‘’Would’ve been a pity to have lost it. It’s beautiful,’ Tim said, ‘like you.’

His compliment caught me off guard. Philippe had called me beautiful.
That ache in my chest again.
I looked away and mumbled a quick thanks.

‘Look, I’m just about to break for lunch? Join me?’

I leafed through the information leaflets scattered on the table. ‘I’m, uh… not sure. I’m supposed to meet a friend here.’

‘Okay, I should’ve known.’ I heard the disappointment in his voice.

I smiled as I guessed what he must be thinking and glanced up at him. ‘Girlfriend. My bestie.’

His face brightened. ‘Crazy-orange-skirt, girl?’

I’m sure my eyes widened. ‘How did—’

‘Couldn’t miss that! Saw you next to her, and I hoped you’d head this way.’ He grinned again. ‘Didn’t think you’d literally fall into my arms though!’

I rolled my eyes, then scanned the table again, this time for the registration sheet. ‘Where do I sign up?’

‘Uh, here.’ He handed me a form.

As I filled it out and checked the activities schedule, Tim moved away. I glanced up as he removed his cloak and brown tunic, and slipped on a T-shirt. His back faced me and I got a good view of his wide shoulders. He had mentioned a lunch break, and I wondered whether walking around campus dressed as a Viking could get you beaten up!

He was an attractive
guy, but in a different way from Philippe. But then, few men could compare physically to him.

Argh! I shook my head to dislodge his image from my mind. I had an hour before I was to meet Angie, so it couldn’t do any harm to accept Tim’s lunch invitation. Besides, it was time to put Philippe behind me.

Tim said something to another attendant, a girl dressed in a Jane Austin-style dress, who handed out information leaflets. She nodded and alerted the other attendant, a guy dressed as a Roman soldier.

‘Yeah, mate—go,’ the guy said to Tim, before going back to demonstrating the use of a sword to several admiring male students.

‘Tim,’ I said. ‘That lunch offer still on?’

His beaming smile gave me the answer. ‘So, what are you majoring in?’ he asked as we walked off the green to the Student Union Building.

‘Dip Ed,’ I said. ‘I think I’ll enjoy teaching little kids.’

He nodded. ‘Nice. I’m doing honours in Archaeology.’

There was a vacant table at one of the cafes on the ground floor. ‘Are there any jobs in that?’ I asked.

‘Soon find out!’

We ordered Thai, sat down and talked. His grey eyes sparkled when he spoke of going on digs, here and overseas. ‘I need several seasons of fieldwork to qualify. Then maybe go for an academic position.’

‘Don’t you need a PhD for that?’

‘Yup. It’s gonna be a long haul.’ He lifted his polystyrene coffee cup in mock salute.

I smiled, wished him the best, and it occurred to me, that I really hoped he’d achieve it. That surprised me. I was beginning to like this guy, but I had no intention of developing any deeper feelings. I would concentrate on my studies, enjoy new friendships and immerse myself in university life.

Yet there was something appealing about Tim, the animated way he spoke about life, his funny anecdotes and the silly pick-up lines he told me he’d used. As he talked, I laughed till my sides ached.

I’d glanced at my watch. Where had that hour gone? ‘Oops, gotta go.’

‘Can I see you again? Here’s my number.’ He extracted a pocket notebook, scribbled something down and handed it to me. ‘Call me. Please.’

I scribbled mine on a napkin and passed it to him. ‘Likewise.’

Back at the marquee, we said goodbye—for now—and I met up with Angie.

‘Ex-cell-ent!’ She said after I told her about Tim. ‘Go for it, Laura. I’ve been so worried about you, mooning over that other guy. Forget him and move on.’

‘I have.’
I really have.

At home that afternoon, I pulled out Philippe’s locket and gazed at it. That familiar ache I’d lived with for the last four weeks surfaced for a moment, but with far less intensity.

Since the clasp was broken, I tied a knot in the chain and hung it on my dresser mirror, to dangle there with my other accessories. It would be a constant reminder not to give my heart away so easily—the pain was too great. It would take a special man for me to ever fall in love again.

I heard the hallway phone ring. A few seconds later Mum called up to me. ‘Laura? Do you know someone called Tim?’

‘Goodbye Philippe,’ I whispered as I closed my bedroom door and dashed down the stairs.

THE END

If you liked this story, please leave a review, and if you want to find out who or what Philippe is, you’ll find the answers in BLOODGIFTED, Book 1 of The Dantonville Legacy series.

Here’s a tempting glimpse:

Laura is speaking—

My initial shock at being confronted by Jean turned to anger. I slapped his hand off my face. ‘Don’t you ever place your hand on my mouth!’ The last time someone did that I had been terrified and terrorised. The memory made me shiver.

‘I’m sorry. I don’t want anyone to disturb me up here. No one comes to this part of the house anymore. It’s become my secret place,’ he said as he reached up behind me and pulled down a hook on the wall. ‘What are you doing here, anyway?’ He spoke lightly but there was a strange edge to his voice.

It was incredible the way he reminded me of Philippe. Even his voice was similar—from what I remembered, but it was so long ago.

I twisted out of his hold and moved away from him. ‘Wandered up here to take a look. Alec and Papa mentioned the ballroom as the perfect place to hold the Pledge.’

‘You know Luc’s your father? When?’

‘After the Ritual. They told me everything.’

‘Ah.’ He cocked his head to one side, the way Alec did sometimes.

A nervous tingle ran through me. I recalled the strange way Jean stared at me at the time and his lingering touch on my face in the hospital.

‘You kept the locket I gave you in Sorrento.’

I froze. How did he know? Philippe had bought me a silver heart-shaped locket and asked me to wear it always. I promised I would, but I’d been only eighteen. I’d kept it all these years as a memento and it hung on my dresser-mirror alongside my other pieces of jewellery. Had he been in my bedroom?

My stomach plummeted as the realisation hit me. He’d been in my flat, in my room, with the others the night I was taken. Jean… No! The anxious face gazing at me now was not Jean. It was Philippe.
Philippe
!

I had no doubt. Here before me was the young man I’d met in Italy when I was eighteen. He was handsome and I’d had the biggest crush.

Compared to the boys I had known in high school, his was the first manly kiss I had experienced. It was the most wonderful holiday of my life and I didn’t want it to end, but it did, suddenly. He disappeared—never showed up on our last date. I thought I would die, but I didn’t. I grew up and he eventually receded to the memories-you-treasure part of my mind.

‘Philippe?’ I stared at him in disbelief.

‘You do remember.’

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