Through the Glass (10 page)

“Weeeell…. I got me a job!” He grinned.

“Really?! That’s fantastic! I didn’t even know you had any interviews lined up. You kept that very quiet. Is it in the city?...Wa-wa-wait…let me guess! Is it with a publishing house?...Nonononono…is it with a Literary Agency?...Oh I give up! Tellmetellmetellme!” She bounced up and down on his lap. He began to feel like he was about to disappoint her. He had graduated with a First from Oxford and had such potential after all. Everyone said so.

“Erm…no…none of those.” He sighed.

“Okay, so where?” She scrunched her face in apparent confusion.

“Well, you know that I go to that little book shop…The Book Depository?”

“Yesss?” Flick looked confused still.

“Well, Charles the owner just gave me a job completely out of the blue! Isn’t that great?” He was now trying to convince them both.

“Oh right. Sorry I thought you meant a
job
-job. I didn’t realise you meant a stepping stone. You had me all excited then. That’s great, sweetie. It’ll certainly put you on for a while whilst you’re looking for something permanent,” she chimed, kissing him on the nose and climbing off his lap.

“Hmmm…yes…it will,” he mumbled, not daring to tell her that this was all he had ever wanted.

Chapter 6

January 2007 — Twenty-five Months Before the Break-up

“It is with great pleasure, therefore, ladies and gentlemen that I introduce to you, our newest team member and exceptional art critic, buyer, and discoverer of unique talent, Felicity Johnston-Hart.” Applause rumbled around the room as Felicity took the microphone from Franco Nilsson, her new employer.

“Many thanks, Franco…ahem… This year has been quite a year, to say the least.” She smiled at her audience. “I was delighted when Julian Forster was awarded the Carlson Art prize as it meant that all our hard work had paid off. Julian is a most talented and prolific artist, and I was proud to be the one who discovered him and presented him to the world. Julian will now go on to display at the Tate and has been offered space at Le Louvre for a short time to see how his work is received there.

“When Franco Nilsson and Daniel Perkins made contact with me and offered me the position of International Art Dealer here at this most prestigious of companies, I jumped at the chance. I’m happy to say that the proprietors of Art and Soul gave their blessing and full support to this next chapter of my life. I’m very excited to be embarking upon such a wonderful journey here at Nilsson-Perkins and look forward to encouraging you all to buy art in the near future.” A chuckle from the audience was followed by applause.

~~~~~

Jim stood at the back, observing proceedings from a safe distance. He had worn the grey suit Flick had chosen for him at some expensive designer shop. He had protested about a tie and she had relented. So there he stood, shaggy, shoulder length brown hair, neatly pulled back into a ponytail, stubble trimmed to designer level, waistcoat fully buttoned, jacket open, white shirt open at the collar. He felt trussed up like a Christmas turkey. It wasn’t his favourite look. But he had done it for Flick.

He listened as she spoke eloquently about her new role and her excitement about the fact that one of her hand-picked artists had won such a prestigious award. He felt proud but detached. Flick had been spending more and more time away. Paris. New York. Milan. He was happy for her and outwardly supported her every venture. He just felt like he was becoming a square peg in the round hole of her new life.

He glanced around the gallery. Its walls were adorned with the most amazing and striking pieces of modern art. There were some more traditional pieces, too, but they seemed out of place. Just like Jim. He could quite easily liken himself to the more traditional works.

Thankfully, the music chosen for the evening’s festivities was eclectic just like his own taste. Debussy’s
Claire De Lune
began to play over the P.A. system as Flick walked toward him, her hips swaying. Everyone in the room could have disappeared, he wouldn’t have noticed.

“Hello, handsome, look at you all sexy.” She slipped her arm around his neck and kissed his cheek, whispering in his ear and making him shiver with desire.

He returned the favour. “You don’t look too shabby yourself, darlin’.”

She blushed. Her hair was now shoulder-length and straightened within an inch of its life with her newly purchased, ceramic hair straighteners. It looked very sleek. Her fitted black shift dress accentuated her womanly curves in all the right places and the teardrop shaped cut out showed just the right amount of cleavage to send Jim’s mind racing whilst remaining classy for this, her first work function.

~~~~~

They arrived home after what had been deemed a very successful launch of Flick’s career with the very highly regarded Nilsson-Perkins. Once inside the door, Jim grabbed her and pressed her against the wall, her hands found his hair releasing the band that held it back and he kissed her neck just under her ear. She groaned and ran her hands down his back to his buttocks. He pressed his now prominent arousal into her and inhaled sharply.

“God I want you…right now…in this dress.” He grabbed her bottom and lifted her so that her legs wrapped around his body. He ground his pelvis into hers and it was her turn to gasp. With one hand he unzipped his fly and released himself. Then pulling aside the black lace panties, which were his only barrier to what he desired, he sank himself deep in to her.

“Flick, you feel so good… I’ve wanted this all night.”

“Oh…me too.” She gasped as his thrusts drove her wild.

He felt his emotions winning the battle to escape. “I don’t want to lose you… I’m scared.” He gasped as he kissed her neck.

“What? Not…going…to…happen!” She climaxed around him urging his orgasm. As always, he called her name. This time his voice was tinged with desperation.

Once he had lowered her to the floor, he stood with his face buried in her neck, one hand in her hair, holding on for dear life, and the other wrapped around her torso, cradling her to him.

“Hey…Jim, sweetie, what’s wrong? Look at me, Jim,” she urged. He raised his face. Her eyes mirrored the sadness he knew his must show.

“Flick…I’m…I’m so scared,” he admitted.

She frowned. “Of what? I don’t understand.” She stroked his face and kissed him gently.

“You have this new job…. You’ll be jetting off all over the world. How will I keep up? Will I still be enough for you?”

Suddenly, she looked perturbed. Not in the least bit compassionate. “What kind of question is that? I don’t know where all this is coming from. When have I given you such an idea that you won’t be? I thought you’d be happy for me, Jim.”

He realised she hadn’t answered his question.

“I
am
happy for you. I am
so
proud of you. I
really
am. I’m just worried that I won’t fit into your new life anymore. That you’ll get tired of me…a lowly book salesman.” He smiled as he rested his forehead on hers, hoping for reassurance.

It never came.

“Jim, this is beyond ridiculous.” She snorted, freeing herself from his grip. “I’m going to take a shower. Open a bottle of champers, please. There’s one chilling in the fridge,” she called back to him as she made her way up the stairs.

Jim’s heart sank.

~~~~~

February 2007 — Two Years Before the Break-up

Flick had worked quite a few late nights since beginning her new job a month earlier. Jim had done his best to just ride it, not to get stressed and certainly not to lay a guilt trip on her.

He wanted her to be happy and this job seemed to go some way to fulfilling her creative side. Although he had noticed that she painted less and less, a fact that concerned him somewhat. Painting was a part of who she was. It had
always
been her passion. Her job, however, seemed to take her away from the one thing that sparked her desire to study art in the first place.

It was Jim’s birthday. He didn’t really care that he was getting older. Age was just a number. What he did care about was the fact that he was more than likely going to spend his birthday without his wife. It was already seven in the evening and she wasn’t home. He hadn’t prepared dinner just on the off chance that Flick was taking him somewhere as a surprise. It was a long shot but he could hope.

He had dozed off on the sofa when the door opened bringing a cold draft into the small lounge diner. Flick breezed in carrying a white plastic bag, Chinese food and a bottle of wine. She dumped them on the floor in the hall and shouted, “Take these to the kitchen sweetie!” to him as she ran back out to the car.

When she returned, she insisted that he sit on the sofa with his eyes closed. A grin spread across his face. There was a surprise!

He heard Flick walking in and whispering, “Shhh…shhh,” as she did.

Was there going to be a surprise party? Had she brought him a surprise guest? The suspense was killing him. Flick’s knees cracked as she crouched down in front of him.

“Open your eyes!” she said excitedly.

He did as instructed and before him was a large white box with large holes punched in the lid. He slowly removed the lid and gazed inside.

“Happy birthday, sweetie.”

“Oooh.” He gasped. “Flick, he’s gorgeous. Thank you so much.”

He scooped up the little black pup that wriggled and jiggled with excitement. Jim held the little bundle to his face and the pup licked him. The pup began to pee and Jim and Flick laughed as they ran to the kitchen trying to make it through to the back garden, but by the time they made it the pup had finished.

“So what are you going to call him?” she asked as he tickled the small black Labrador pup’s belly.

“Jasper. It suits him, don’t you think?”

“I think it’s a lovely name.” She squeezed his shoulder.

She began to serve out the Chinese take away she had brought home with her. It smelled divine, and he was ravenous. So was Jasper, judging by the way he sniffed the air. Flick produced a tin of dog food from the take away carrier and handed it to Jim.

“I hope that’s for the dog and it’s not our appetiser.”” Jim winked.

She chuckled. “Best feed him now, eh?”

“Aw, Flick this is the best gift I’ve ever received. He’s just gorgeous. Thank you so much.” he kissed his wife lovingly before feeding his new little friend.

~~~~~

February 2008 — A Year Before the Break-up

Jim was waiting by the phone on Valentine’s Day, alone. Flick had been in New York on business for almost a week. She had telephoned a couple of times, but the conversations had been quick. Today, however, he was expecting a longer call. He missed her like crazy. At around nine, the phone finally rang.

“Hey, Jim. We’ve just had the most amazing meeting with a phenomenal artist. It’s looking like we may get the UK rights to her work! Isn’t that fantastic?” Flick blurted without even saying hello.

Jim’s knee bobbed up and down and his jaw clenched.
Nice greeting from the wife I’m missing like crazy
.

He felt heat rise in his cheeks. “Hi, Flick… Oh hi, Jim… I miss you so much… Yes, I miss you too, Flick, and wish you were here.” He snorted sarcastically.

“Sorry, sweetie. I’m just so excited. Anyway, I can’t talk long. We’re going sightseeing before dinner. Can you believe I’ve been here a week and I haven’t even been to Times Square yet?” She laughed.

Jim did not.

“Flick, I was hoping we could talk…you know…properly. I miss you so much it hurts,” he pleaded.

“Oh, I’ll be home before you know it and then you’ll be sick of the sight of me! Anyway, I really must dash. I want to shower and change, and I’m running late already. Love you, sweetie, bye.”

“Oh…so you
really
meant you couldn’t talk long then…okay…bye.” Jim hung up without reciprocating the breezy
I love you
. He was angry and hurt. He threw the handset onto the sofa and slumped down into the seat. Jasper came and placed his head on Jim’s lap. “At least you love me, eh, lad?” He scratched Jasper’s head.

To top it off, it was going to be the first birthday he had had since they got together that he would be spending without her. Flick was due home two days
after
his birthday. At least, last year she was here. Late…but here. No, this year there would be no surprise gift in a box with holes in it, and instead of spending a romantic evening with his wife, he would be spending it with Charles. They were going to the Taj Mahal restaurant and then to the cinema to see
In Bruges
, which wasn’t really a film that appealed to Charles—he was into Film Noir—but it was either that or a chick flick, and Jim had to draw the line somewhere considering this birthday was already sad enough as it stood.

~~~~~

Jim’s birthday arrived. He met Charles at the cinema. Charles insisted on buying the largest bucket of popcorn available along with chocolates, nachos, and jelly sweets. The majority of which were gone by the time the film started. Silly, really, considering they had a table booked at the Indian restaurant as soon as the film ended.

The film turned out to be excellent. Dark, but very funny in places. And Jim had thought that Bruges looked like a place he would love to visit someday. The architecture was remarkable, despite the armed men running around killing people.

They moved on to the Indian restaurant and once again Charles insisted on paying. “No, Jim. Put your bloody money away, old chap. My bloody treat. If a chap can’t treat his best bloody friend on his birthday, when can he?”

“Best friend? Aw, Charles, mate.” Jim hugged his friend, feeling quite touched at his words. After the meal they headed to the Nags Head for a few beers. A few beers turned to many beers and Charles got quite tipsy. Jim found drunken Charles hilariously funny, although he was by no means sober himself. They stumbled out of the pub after being chatted up by too rather scary looking, overly made-up older women. As they waited for a taxi at the nearest rank they could stumble to, Charles made a confession.