Through the Glass (21 page)

“No…no…he was lovely, for the most part. Distant and guarded, but lovely. He let me stay when I got stranded because of the snow. He cooked for me. He even borrowed painting supplies from his friends so that I wouldn’t be bored.” She sighed. “But he clearly has a visceral fear of getting hurt again. There’s been no one serious since me. He met someone lovely by the sound of it, but she apparently lived a fair distance away and he used that as an excuse to not take things further. He won’t allow anyone to get close and it’s my fault entirely.”

“I…don’t understand. What went wrong?” Polly tucked a stray strand of hair behind Felicity’s ear. “You only went to tell him about your dad.”

“Oh, Polly…things were going so well. I felt like I was making amends. I apologised. We talked so much…about everything…and then last night…last night we made love.” She covered her face with her hands.

“You did
what
?!” Polly didn’t attempt to hide her shock, sitting bolt upright as she spoke. “Oh no, sweetie. But…but…how come?”

“Oh, I don’t really know to be honest. We kind of got caught up in the moment. There was a power cut. I don’t like the dark…and…well…one thing led to another.”

“But Flick, darling, we talked about this. You know how vulnerable you are about Jim. We talked about how you would protect yourself, honey. You’re still so deeply in love with him that sex was
bound
to complicate things.”

“I know. I just didn’t think long enough to stop myself. And I wanted to be with him so much. I think that, on some level, I naively thought we would get back together. That making love to me would make him realise he still loved me. But then this morning….he was…he said…he repeated back to me the line I said to him on the day I left.”

“Which was what, Flick?”

Felicity could see the colour in Polly’s cheeks. She was angry.

“That it was how he and I say goodbye.” She rested her head in her hands feeling rather ashamed.

“Ah.”

Felicity had made her friend aware of most of the detail behind her decision to leave Jim at the time it happened. Polly had been honest and said that she didn’t completely agree that leaving him was the right thing to do, but she stood by her and vowed to always be there for her in her time of need.

This was that time.

“I broke his heart so severely, Pol, that he hasn’t had a proper relationship since. I’ve ruined his life. I can’t bear it. He was my best friend in the whole world. My soul-mate and I broke him.” Tears began to fall freely once again as Felicity absorbed the weight of her actions.

~~~~~

A while later Felicity awoke with a start. She sat bolt upright when she realised the room was empty. She was covered over in a cream faux fur blanket on the sofa where she must have fallen asleep. The clock above the mantle told her it was the early hours of the morning. She switched off the table lamp and made her way up to the third floor that she rented, as a whole, from Polly and Matt. Today of all days she was happy of the living arrangement that had been in place for a long while. Things had only changed, temporarily, when she had moved in with Rory. Prior to moving in with Polly, Franco Nilsson had found her a stunning loft apartment to rent. It was near the main gallery and was very modern, bright and airy. When she viewed it she decided it was far too big and impersonal, and she thought she would feel lonely there. She didn’t need to try living there to know it just wasn’t her. She hated it. Living with Polly and Matt and having friends around when she needed them, like now, was a blessing.

Matt and Polly were always expressing their gratitude for the extra income from letting out their third floor, which was to all intents and purposes a small apartment in its own right. Interest rates had risen substantially since they bought the large property, and they had struggled to pay the mortgage during the period when Flick had moved in with Rory. The fact that there was no separate entrance was all that would have stopped them subletting it to a stranger, so the arrangement worked well.

The little apartment was decorated in creams and beiges, very neutral. There was a main room, which acted as a lounge with a beige chesterfield style sofa, dining area with a café style dining suite in chrome, and a kitchenette where Felicity was able to cook for herself. Off the lounge was a decent sized bathroom with separate shower cubicle and through another door was a double bedroom with built-in wardrobes. Research had told them this area would have been maid’s quarters when the house had been built originally. But it suited Felicity quite well. For now.

Considering Felicity’s penchant for art, the walls were pretty bare. She had a few photographs of herself with Polly at university and her family but no artwork per se.  In her bedside drawer, she kept one framed photo of herself and Jim. It was taken during their first Christmas as a married couple and was beautiful. It was in the drawer so that Felicity could avoid the emotions that seeing the two of them looking so happy evoked, but she knew it was there for the moments when she felt stronger. Even though this was not one of those occasions, she couldn’t help lifting it out of the drawer and thinking back to Christmas 2003…

December 2003 – Five Years and Two Months Before the Break-up

The tree was quite small but stood proudly in the corner of their pretty little lounge by the fireplace. They had bought most of their ornaments from Covent Garden. Luckily they both favoured the more traditional ornaments and white lights. Not the flashy, headache-inducing, multi-coloured lights, No, they agreed, white lights that stayed nice and still so as not to cause migraine or a huge distraction whilst they watched TV or kissed for hours at a time. It looked beautiful.

Flick and Jim sat in front of their tree on Christmas morning opening gifts from friends and family, which were mostly of the couples variety—house gifts such as matching Mr. and Mrs. mugs, His and Hers robes and towels, sweet little penguin salt and pepper pots, kitsch but cute, etc. Flick had bought Jim a beautiful, leather bound notebook with his initials embossed on the front for his poetry and book ideas, which he had loved. Jim handed a small gift bag to Flick and her eyes lit up.
Small gifts are always more exciting
, her mother always told her.
They usually contain diamonds!
She doubted it on this occasion, as money was tight. But she didn’t really care about diamonds.

With the sound of Bing Crosby playing in the background, Flick opened the bag and took out the velvet box. She opened it slowly, prolonging the anticipation. Jim chewed on his nails, as if he wasn’t sure she would like the contents.

Flick gasped. “Oh, Jim! It’s beautiful!” She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him fervently. “I just love it. I’ll never take it off. Put it on me.” She handed Jim the beautiful chain, which had a simple heart-shaped pendant hanging from it.

As he fastened it around her neck, he said, “It’s white gold you know. Not silver. I couldn’t afford platinum…but now you know you will always have my heart.”

Flick turned to face him. “Jim that is the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me. I’ll treasure it and look after it always.”

As soon as the words had left her lips, he had kissed her tenderly.

~~~~~

January 2012 — Two Years and Eleven Months After the Break-up

Back in the present day, Flick sat on her bed holding the photo of her with Jim.
Didn’t do a very good job of looking after his heart, did you?
She chastised herself regretfully. She trailed her fingers down the image of Jim’s handsome face, kissed it and placed the frame back in her drawer.

Chapter 17

January 2012 - Two Years and Eleven Months After the Break-up

The morning after his brother’s surprise arrival, Jim sat drinking coffee in the kitchen. He played over in his mind all the things that Euan had said. His brother was, quite rightly, against Jim chasing Flick down. He got it.
Totally
. But Euan didn’t fully understand the way he felt about Flick and the impact she’d had on his life.  Euan had said that if it were him, he would convince his big brother that there were plenty more fish in the sea and that he should do himself a favour, go fishing and move on. Jim took it all with a pinch of salt. It was great to have him around, but he couldn’t help wishing he could just get in the car or on that plane and go to her.
If Euan knew I felt this way, he would be so upset.
Jim began to feel a tad guilty for wishing the time past.

Euan and Tara finally roused from the land of slumber and joined Jim at the table. They kept whispering and looking at each other. It was clear there was subterfuge afoot. Jim didn’t ask. He waited until one of them plucked up the courage to speak.

Euan apparently could hold his tongue no longer. “Jim…we’ve had an idea…tell us to butt out—”

“Butt out.” Jim smiled snidely as he interrupted his brother.

“Okay, I deserved that. Seriously though, I’ve been thinking…that is, Tara and I have been talking…and…we think you should do something with the paintings. Flick needs a wake-up call.”

Jim scrunched his face in confusion and shook his head in protest. His voice was sharp as he spoke. “What do you mean? You’re not suggesting I throw them away are you? Cause if you are—”

“No! Don’t be daft, Jim! Not at all. Quite the opposite.” Euan raised his hands in submission. “We think maybe you should try and get them into a gallery. Don’t you have any connections with anyone she knows?” Euan looked hopeful. “Or maybe that gallery she used to work at before? You know, an exhibition of her
own
work. Maybe if she sees that she can make it as artist in her own right, she’ll feel able to come back here to be with you. It’s the perfect location for an artist.”

Jim contemplated for a few minutes whilst Euan stared expectantly.

After a long silence, Euan spoke again. “Look…I hope I haven’t crossed a line Jim…it was just a suggestion.”

The cogs in Jim’s mind were almost audibly turning. “Actually…it may be a good idea.” He rubbed his chin as he thought. “I could try to find someone…” His words trailed off as he disappeared into his own mind.

“Anyway, I’ll leave you to decide what’s best to do about it. Like I said it was just an idea.” Euan smiled at Tara who slid onto his lap, closing the distance she had apparently been keeping in case fireworks ensued at her partner’s suggestion.

“I never thought I would hear myself saying this, bro, but you may have had a fucking brilliant idea for once in your life.” Jim’s face lit up with a wide toothy grin.

“Cheeky sod!” Euan punched Jim’s arm playfully. Jim cried out in pain whilst chuckling simultaneously.

~~~~~

After breakfast Euan and Tara decided to get some of the wonderful Scottish fresh air available to them and took Jasper along for the stroll. Jim decided to rummage through a box of items belonging to Flick that had been discarded at their marital home when she left him for her new life. He was pretty sure there was a little black address book in there. She had purchased a PDA and had copied all the numbers over, rendering the little book useless. He wasn’t sure until now why he hadn’t just thrown it all out. Maybe things
did
happen for a reason.

On locating the book he opened it and thumbed through to the
F
page. Sure enough, there it was, the telephone number of one Julian Forster, Flick’s first protégé in the art world. Jim sat back on his haunches as he remembered his first encounter with the unlikely star…

~~~~~

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

“It’s all bollocks, you know.” A voice from beside Jim rudely tore him from his reverie.

Rather taken aback by the harsh comments of the stranger, Jim turned quickly. “Excuse me?”

Waving his arms around at their surroundings, the man continued. “This. It’s all pretentious bollocks.
They
make it about money.” He gestured in the direction of Flick and Franco Nilsson. “But all I want to do is paint and have someone appreciate my art.”

Smirking at the truth of the man’s words, Jim said, “Aye, I think I could be inclined to agree, mate.” He nodded and took a swig of his Jack and Coke.

The man held out his hand. “Julian Forster.” Jim reciprocated and the pair connected in a firm handshake.

“Jim MacDuff.”

“Aren’t you Felicity’s partner?” Julian enquired.

“Husband.”

“Ah…but she doesn’t have your name,” Julian observed.

Flinching at the comment, Jim took another swig of his drink. “Long story.”

“Hmmm. I bet that’s a load of pretentious bollocks, too,” Julian said dryly.

Jim laughed. “Do you know what, mate? I think you just hit the nail on the head.”

“Come on, Jim. I say we go and make the most of the free bar.” Julian suddenly perked up.

“Aye. Why the fuck not?” Jim followed the artist as he led the way to the place where Dutch courage could be acquired on tap.

“She used to paint you know,” Jim offered as he caught sight of his beautiful wife, who was busy networking, smiling, and flirting as she did, without realising it.

“
Used
to?” Julian’s response told Jim that he couldn’t imagine painting being something discussed in the past tense.

“Aye, she gave up when all this started.” He took another gulp of his Jack Daniels, neat this time. He hissed as the heat from the amber liquid slid down his throat.

“Shit. How could she give it up? With me it’s…it’s who I am.” Julian watched Flick too now, shaking his head as he spoke. “I know you shouldn’t let such things define who you are, but with me it…well it just
does
,” Julian explained.

“Aye, well, with Flick it clearly is
not
the case,” Jim concluded.

“Does she miss it?”

“She never talks about it. Not really. It’s a shame though. She was bloody good at it. And I used to love watching her paint.” Jim smiled absentmindedly as images of a paint-covered Flick flashed through his mind.