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Authors: Jane L Gibson

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Chapter Twenty-One

Tuesday and Wednesday were not the most constructive days at work. Our photographer was ill, which had delayed the story I was working on. Claire had been assigned to one of the other journalists for the rest of the week, and that did not help me one little bit; I could have really done with her help.

On Wednesday I moved sluggishly around the office, hoping for a little bit of inspiration, but all I could think about was James and I and my party, and I kept wondering how everything was going to pan out between us.

My phone beeped with a new message; it was John. I sighed heavily and read the text, which requested that we meet. I realised that I had to confront him at some point and let him know that I had no intention of coming back. I'd felt more myself in recent days than I had in a long time. All my time with John I had been trying to be something that he expected me to be, and I completely lost myself in the process. It was nice to be me again, and I was not about to give that up so easily.

I arranged to meet John on Thursday lunchtime. I was not looking forward to it, but it needed to be done. I had received a text from Charles stating that he was shocked and surprised by John's actions, but that he was certain it was a one-off and John loved me dearly. I wondered whether John had put him up to the task, but then realised that it did not bother me either way; I had already decided that John was not the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I had simply slotted into a position that he was happy with, and adjusted myself to please him at a time when I was vulnerable and needed to be close to someone. I sat at my desk and tried to think about what had made me so attracted to John in the first place, but quite honestly nothing sprang to mind. I had a clear vision of where I wanted to go and what I wanted to do now, and Northfield was a very large part of my future plan.

When I arrived back home that evening, making my own way there, I felt slight trepidation about tomorrow's lunch meeting. I had had the time to reflect during momentary lapses at work, and I know that at some point in my past I had definitely loved John, but there was no denying that we had drifted apart and that work had become our primary focus. I wasn't quite sure where it had all gone wrong, but I suspected it was not long after his proposal, when he realised the magnitude of being attached to one person for the rest of his life. I kicked off my shoes in the hallway and wandered down to the apartment, feeling instantly happier at the sound of both of my favourite men laughing. As I pushed the door open, I shrugged off my jacket and perched on the chair.

“Please can I have a glass of wine?” I pleaded as I rubbed my hands across my face.

“Bad day?” George asked.

“Long day, and quite honestly tiresome! Claire has been assigned to another journalist for the week and I cannot seem to get my head into gear,” I replied despondently.

“Is there any reason for this lack of concentration?” James enquired as George placed a large glass of red in front of me. I held up one finger, signalling him to wait, and took a large sip. It was smooth and velvety and heavenly to the taste buds. I sighed with delight.

“I had a message from John asking me to meet him. I cannot hide forever and so I have arranged to meet him tomorrow lunchtime. Not the nicest thought!” I remarked. James looked slightly agitated at my reply and George said:

“Would you like me to come with you?” I laughed a little.

“George, that's so sweet, but this is one battle that I have to conquer for myself!”

“Alright, but you know where I am if you need me!” he replied, smiling.

“Likewise!” James then stated. “Not that I can do very much!” He looked annoyed at himself.

“Boys, thank you, but I will be fine. The sooner I do this the better; then I can get on with my life.”

“Cheers to that, what a good positive attitude!” George then said as he raised his glass. We chinked and then I took another large sip. “Hungry?” he then enquired.

“Starving!” I replied happily, knowing that the lovely smell radiating around the kitchen was bound to be from something delicious.

Rich steak pie with potatoes and vegetables was our dinner tonight, and as George placed the plate in front of me my tummy rumbled loudly. I placed a hand on it.

“Gosh, my tummy loves being here as much as I do!” I remarked. They both laughed. “I think we are going to have to talk about salad, George; if I keep eating these amazing meals, I am going to grow to the size of this house!” I said as I then placed a piece of meat onto my tongue. It was delicious.

“Rubbish; I am not eating salad on a regular basis – it is not the best source of energy! Besides, it will not harm you eating such food, you have been working hard all day!” he added. I gave James a look of ‘well that told me' and he laughed before continuing eating.

We had a quiet night of reading in George's lounge. It was entirely refreshing not having the television on, and instead just listening to the crackling fire. I had had a warm bath and was happy to be in my pyjamas and dressing gown, doing something I enjoyed – it was a much-needed change. I yawned heavily at ten o'clock, as I finished my book, and stood up and stretched. It still amused me that every time I moved, James stood. I was most definitely not used to the chivalrous gestures that he kept displaying, but I did love them.

“Gentlemen, I am very tired and so I am going to retire a little earlier tonight. I need my beauty sleep!” I concluded jokily.

“I doubt the latter; you are quite exquisite enough!” George kindly said as he stood and kissed me on both cheeks.

“You are far too good to me, George!” I remarked.

“May I see you to your room?” James asked. I nodded in agreement.

As we walked the long corridor to the hallway and I retrieved my shoes, I stood and looked around. “I still find it hard to believe that I partly own this place!”

“It is quite something, although a little unlived-in at the moment. Perhaps we should use some of the other rooms now that you are here? It would be nice to be able to spend more time in them; I do love George's apartment, but I miss being able to enjoy the main house,” he remarked as he looked around. “So many memories!”

“You know I would love that. I have always felt very fond of the day room in which George and I first conversed; it is very opulent.”

“I agree entirely. So I will speak with George and we can start retiring into that room in the evenings if you so wish?” he suggested as we walked up the stairs.

“You know, as long as George doesn't mind, or think that we are not fond of his apartment, I would really love that. I do not want to make more work for him, though!” I replied, thinking that George had enough to look after.

“I am sure that George will not mind; he has commented regularly on the lack of use of the main house. I hope one day to be able to be a part of it again,” he said with sadness.

“As do I!” I simply replied as we arrived at my door. “I have had a lovely evening, so thank you!” I said as I turned the large doorknob.

“You are entirely welcome!” he replied with a large smile. “I do hope that you rest well!” he then said as I entered my room.

“How can I not, in such a magnificent room? It's more relaxing than I can tell you!” I replied with as large a smile as I could give. He simply nodded and turned to walk away.

As I got into bed and pulled the plump covers up to my chin, I let out a large sigh of contentment. I thought about my mum, and I knew that she would be so happy that I was trying to help both James and George. I was also positive that she would be proud of me for standing up to John. I missed her so dearly, but also felt like I had adopted a new family and home. It just felt so right – like it was meant to be – and I was happier than I had been in a long time. I smiled to myself and replied to a few texts – one specifically from Claire, asking if I was alright – and then I set the alarm and drifted into a most peaceful slumber.

I bounced down the stairs the next morning, feeling completely refreshed and ready to get my head into gear at work. I had deadlines, and Claire or no Claire I had to pull my socks up and get on with it. I had renewed inspiration and a fighting ambition back in me this morning, which I think was mainly to do with the fact that this was a new beginning for me – firstly by getting John to understand that I could not even begin to think about spending the rest of my life with him. I had a brief sudden thought about the fact that John had very probably been spending time consoling himself with Nadine, and I shuddered quickly and then snapped myself back to reality. Very soon it would not be my problem anymore, and I could focus my precious time on James and George entirely. I smiled and waltzed down to George's apartment, but found that he was not there as usual. I made a coffee and got myself a bowl of cereal; when James appeared, I offered to make him a coffee too, as he looked tired.

“Are you alright? It's strange not to meet George first thing in the morning!” I pointed out.

“Yes, sorry we are perfectly fine – we spent most of the night chatting!” he then replied.

“It's good that you both still talk in depth!”

“It is, but when you retire at 3.30am it's a tiring start!” he replied, straightening his shirt and then running his hands through his hair.

“Gosh, I'm so sorry – that would probably normally not happen if it wasn't for me and my trials and tribulations!” I remarked.

“Absolutely not! We talk regularly until well into the early hours – after all, what else is there to do!?” he then tried to reassure me as he rubbed his face numerous times.

I placed the coffee at the end of the counter and no sooner had I returned to my seat than the reflected copy was there waiting for him. He turned, took a long sip and then sighed.

“Coffee, it has to be said, is quite medicinal when you're tired!”

“It works for most people!” I commented as he continued to drink. “Has George decided to sleep in this morning?”

“George, I fear, would be devastated to find that we are helping ourselves this morning. He does take his role very seriously and that usually means him being in control. I do worry that he is getting weary though so a rest will do him no harm!” he kindly said.

“I love the fact that you care for him so much!” I remarked. He smiled.

“He is all I have left of my family! He
is
my family!” he then said. We both continued drinking and I ate my cereal. I felt I needed to get moving and with George not being around it made the transition a little quicker. I stood and quickly washed up my crockery, then turned and looked at James.

“Well, wish me luck! It's a busy day for me today!” I stated, trying to sound positive. He stopped for a second and then looked at me as he placed his mug back onto the island.

“Yes, I hope that you do not feel too upset about the impending meeting with your fiancé?”

“I feel quite confident that after today I will be moving forward. Fiancé, I know, will be a long-distant word! That, I feel, is a good thing!” I replied.

“Well I hope it goes well for you!” he replied.

“Me too!” I said as I stood taller and straightened my clothes. “I will see you tonight, and I hope that George feels well rested when I get home.”

“I am sure that George will be back to his old self upon your return this evening,” he then said as he gestured for me to walk to the hallway.

I retrieved my work things, put on my coat and then realised that George usually took me to the station. I turned and looked at James and he raised his eyebrows in question.

“I have no George to take me to the station!”

“Of course! How silly of me!” He raised his hands in acknowledgement of the obvious. “Please take the car and park it at the station; George should have no need for it today.” He pointed toward the keys on the hallway table, resting in an intricate glass bowl.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Indeed, please do; it will make your journey easier!” He smiled.

“Okay!” I replied as I picked up the keys and simply stated, “Fingers crossed then!” I took a deep breath and then opened the main door to a brisk hard wind.

“I wish you well today!” he then called and I smiled and left before I changed my mind.

Remarkably I found a parking space with ease, and the train journey into work was hassle-free. It was a good start to the day, I felt; it was necessary to remain as calm as possible until my meeting with John, I did not want to cry, raise my voice or become anything resembling a raging woman scorned. I had decided that I wanted to rise above the hurt, torment and embarrassment and just lay down my thoughts and opinion of where our relationship lay.

Work was actually quite satisfying. I threw myself into it, most probably to keep my mind from anything else. When people in the office started moving around and putting on jackets, I realised that the inevitable had arrived – it was lunchtime – and so I stood and put on my coat, retrieved my bag and quickly told Claire where I was going. She could not have been happier; she had never had a lot of time for John. She was extremely busy and so had decided to continue working and eat on the go. I slowly made my way to the small bistro near to work that John had agreed to meet me in. At least if things got too difficult it was a short journey back to the office.

As I turned the corner and tried to breathe in and out deeply, whilst running through what I wanted to say, I peered through the window to see if John was already there. As I suspected, he was sitting at a seat near the window, looking very nervous. I felt remarkably better. I had not expected him to be so anxious; usually he was so sure of himself. It put me at ease, and as I walked through the door, I mumbled to myself: “Here goes.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

“You're here!” were his first words.

“Did you expect me not to be?” I asked with annoyance. I thought that I was a more reliable person than that! He poured me a glass of water.

“I'm... I'm just surprised is all!” he then stated hesitantly.

“Well, I am here, John, so let's get this over with!” I remarked, hoping this wasn't going to take long. Three months ago, I would have fallen apart, but with renewed enthusiasm in something I believed in, it felt remarkably easy!

“What can I say? I made a huge mistake – a stupid mistake. I am an idiot and it meant nothing. However, you didn't help, did you?” he then said. I shook my head and then raised my eyebrows.

“I'm sorry, how is this my fault?” I asked, reasonably.

“Well, you're not exactly easy and then you go and buy a completely inappropriate property with all of our money. What am I supposed to think?” he said. That was it, right there, right then – I realised how shallow he was. I laughed.

“John, let me point out the obvious to you – you proposed to me; I accepted because I loved you. You proceeded to enter into a relationship with a work colleague, which in your eyes was obviously satisfactory, even though you were engaged. It is not ‘our' money, it is ‘my' money, and I will spend it how I choose, whether you like it or not. After your recent behaviour I really do not think that you have any say in the matter, do you?” I asked with conviction. He stuttered:

“I didn't mean to have a relationship with someone else!” he shouted. I looked around the bistro, realising that others were listening in, and beckoned for him to come closer.

“But you did, which says how little you thought about me!” I replied in a whisper. I pulled out the ring that he had given me. “This unfortunately is where I give this back to you, because quite honestly I don't want it anymore!” I then finished as I placed it on the table in front of him.

“Can't we talk about this?” he pleaded, and suddenly I felt at ease.

“No! We can't! We're done! So I wish you well, John, with Nadine or whoever else, but that's it!” I replied with confidence. He rubbed his head.

“It's your birthday next week. I'd hoped that we would spend it together!” he then said. “And did I hear you're having a party at that house you bought?” “Northfield, John! Get used to the name because I am not selling it. Yes I am having a party there and I am sorry to say that you are not invited!” I happily said as I stood. “I really don't feel like lunch. I think we're done!” I finished as I put my coat on and started to leave. John stood up quickly.

“That's it? After nearly two years, you have nothing else to say to me?” he asked. I tied the belt on my coat and turned to him.

“I don't think you have the right to ask me that, do you? Surely you knew this was coming? I'm not some pushover, John! Enjoy life, but I'm not coming back, so move on! I will be over to collect some more clothes this weekend, and will arrange moving anything else that is mine soon.” I pushed open the bistro door and the wind that hit my face felt like a gentle pat on my cheek to say well done. I was happy and I walked away, feeling like I had achieved a great deal of self-respect.

As I walked past a wine bar I often visited, I felt the sudden need for a celebratory drink, so I entered and spoke to Hamish behind the bar and asked for a shot of his very best brandy. It was heavenly, and as they sold liquor I bought a bottle of it to take home. Celebrations were in order!

When I returned to work, Claire was eyeballing me from the conference room, which had glass walls, and I knew she was happy to see that I was not crying or upset in the slightest. At the first opportunity, she was out of that room and at my desk.

“I am so proud of you!” she said as she hugged me. “How do you know I did the right thing?” I replied.

“If you hadn't, you wouldn't look this relaxed with your situation!” she replied, raising her eyebrows at me, hopeful that she was right. I nodded.

“Yes, it went better than I expected – that's it, I am officially rid of him!” I replied. She hugged me again and jumped around a little.

“Yes!” She shot her arm in the air. “We are going to have so much fun this weekend! Plus you get to make puppy eyes at ‘the hottie'… and before you say anything, I don't even give a crap if he's real, because he sounds bloody perfect!” she then stated. We both laughed heartily.

I arrived at the station that evening with a spring in my step. I got to drive home in a lovely Range Rover, which was a treat in itself – even if the car was a little larger than I was used to. As I turned into my driveway, the house was lit and looked so inviting. I pulled up by the main steps and got out of the car, and before I knew it George was at my side.

“Katharina, I am so pleased to see you looking so happy this evening!” he said as he kissed me on both cheeks. “Can I take it from the happy look on your face that things went as well as could be expected today?” he then asked. I turned to him and passed him my heavy bag as I grabbed my handbag and shut the door, and then smiled.

“It was far better than I could have imagined and I am happy that it is over with!” I replied as I touched his arm. “Can I take it that you are feeling well-rested George?” I asked hopefully.

“Indeed I do – I am so sorry that I missed you this morning. It seems after long conversations with James on regular occasions, my body cannot distinguish between night and day sometimes!” he remarked. I smiled.

“So it would seem that we are both feeling much better then!” I replied as we happily went up the stairs and entered the house. We were busy chatting when James suddenly spoke.

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise, you are remarkably chirpier than I had anticipated!” I turned to him and smiled.

“You know James, it was easier than I expected, and I feel remarkably relieved about the whole thing!” I replied. He smiled in return.

“I am glad to hear it!” he then said as I moved closer to the mirror. I stared at him for a moment and then he smiled more, and I realised that I was just staring at him.

“I bought this as a celebratory drink. I'm sure you've tasted far better over the years, but this is really good!” I then stated as I lifted the bottle I had bought in my hand and gestured to it.

“Nothing like a good spirit!” George remarked as he appeared at the side of me.

“I agree!” I smiled. I linked arms with him and we walked toward his apartment.

“So, we are having chicken this evening. I have not done anything elaborate, so please do not expect perfection!” George confirmed.

“Everything that you do is delicious, George, and it means that I don't need to cook, so I'm more than happy – I would be satisfied with beans on toast!” I smiled back at him.

“Point taken!” he nodded.

As I poured three glasses of the fine brandy and passed one to George and placed one on the end of the island, I looked into my glass, trying to think of the appropriate toast, and then it dawned on me that it need not be complex. I looked at them both, raised my glass and simply stated: “To new beginnings!” They both looked at each other and then at me and repeated the toast, to which James added “and happier futures”. I smiled in agreement at his toast and finished the rest of the brandy. I banged the glass down.

“Whoa, I needed that. I have a very strong notion that I am going to get very merry tonight!” I then informed them. James raised his eyebrows.

“Why not? I will join you… George?” he then invited.

“Well, I will try and keep up with you, but I am not promising that it will be a pretty sight!” he laughed.

“That's settled, then… you share that bottle and I will start on this one!” James then stated as he lifted up the replica bottle of brandy on his side of the mirror.

“I like this game, and I love that our bottle will last longer! It really is quite ingenious, this spell, and on the odd occasion it has its uses – as well demonstrated tonight!” I pointed out as I poured myself another glass. George looked at James.

“She does have a point! I think you would have drunk this house dry many years ago if we had to share!”

“You make me out to be some type of alcoholic, George!” James replied, slightly annoyed.

“Hey, we have had plenty of years of drinking and downed too many bottles to mention; probably more than one ship could carry. Between us – and in particular you – we haven't done too badly!” George answered, tongue in cheek.

“As much as I would like to differ with you, George, I believe there is some truth in what you are saying!” James then said.

We all laughed and talked, and I helped George get dinner ready. We were eating in the main dining room tonight, which was a thrill. The fire was ablaze and the room glowed; it was like being at a dinner party with friends of Mr Darcy, in their very opulent and grand home. The only difference was that this was
my
home! I was content with the feeling that George and James accepted me like I was family; and I was so relaxed around them. I was more than happy right now, and we talked throughout dinner, reminiscing on past things and discussing future opportunities. The wine kept flowing and I knew that I was getting merrier by the minute, but I still felt the smallest bit sad… for James. I stood and walked to his mirror after I had finished the last drop in my glass and poured the small amount left in the bottle.

“I really do wish that you could join us on this side, James!” I stated with complete sincerity. “You are, after all, the man of the house, and I am the lady of the house; it does not seem fair that you cannot participate wholly! I do hope that you can sit opposite me some day!” I then said before blushing. Those famous words ‘in vino veritas' suddenly sprang to mind. “I probably should not speak my thoughts so loudly!” I then said in haste as I grimaced at myself. “I do not expect ladies of your era would have said so much?”

“It would certainly have been more interesting if they had!” he smiled. “I hope for the same someday Katharina; it does tie one's stomach into knots, only being able to watch you and George and not being a physical part of the fun and amusement! I would be more than pleased, if I was ever released from this prison, to join you, but for now just having you here with us is more than satisfactory!” he finished. I realised now that he had moved closer to the mirror and I was addicted to staring into his beautiful eyes; they made my insides somersault, which in turn made me feel a little bit nauseous (too much wine!). I raised my glass.

“To having you here with me – and George – on this side of the mirror!” I said as I took a sip from my glass. I did feel like I was swaying slightly now!

“Hear, hear!” George then suddenly said, and I turned and looked at him. He was smiling at the two of us, and then he turned back to the table. He did seem somewhat amused by something and then I realised that it was probably my inability to retain alcohol well in any volume! I took the decision to sit back down.

After dinner, we retired to the day room, where again the fire was lit. James had promised that we would use the older rooms of the house more frequently, and he was a man of his word, it seemed.

“Wow, I really do love this room!” I stated as I sprawled myself on the chaise longue in a not-very-ladylike manner. Thank goodness Jane Austen was not here to see me behaving in such a way… I do not know how she would even start a story about this fairy tale! The thought made me smile.

“I think that I will go and make some tea. That's enough for me for tonight!” George happily announced as he left the room. I sat up and immediately put my hands to my head and closed my eyes.

“Ooh, head rush! I think I may have to slow down myself. Am I slurring my words yet?” I asked James. He laughed.

“You have been for some time. You are still understandable, though, if that makes you feel any better?”

“Oh marvellous, my first night of being single and I act like an inebriated fool!” I concluded, leaning back against the chaise longue.

“Well, fool is a little harsh; you are simply happy, Katharina. However, I prefer the word ‘inebriant' to better describe you!” James then said. I opened my eyes and looked at him.

“I think that's the same thing, James! Gosh, I know how to make an impression, don't I?” I laughed.

“Hardly the same; my interpretation of the word ‘inebriant' toward you would be ‘intoxicating',” he then said, with such delicacy and feeling that I felt immediately sober.

What was he implying? That he found me intoxicating, as in suffocating – like being under the influence of alcohol all the time? Or intoxicating like a drug that he could not live without? I sat and looked at him and felt lost for words; he in return looked at me with reservation, waiting for a reply. I waited a minute or so before speaking.

“Well, that's nice – I think! I cannot say that I have ever been called intoxicating before. It could have many meanings, I am sure, but I will choose to take it as a compliment!” I replied. I am not sure how I managed to get those words out, as my fuzzy head returned with added force.

“I am pleased, as that was my intention!” He smiled the warmest, coyest and slightly little-boyish smile and I melted… thank goodness George returned at that moment with the tea.

“Right, tea anyone?” George asked. I raised my hand like a schoolgirl and then realised that I must look ridiculous – so I started laughing, and unfortunately for some time could not stop!

I sipped the tea and then had another cup, and then as gracefully as I could – and with every ounce of effort – I stood up, swayed a little, reached out and caught my balance on the top of the chaise longue, then realised that both of them had stood too. I pointed to them both in a drunken, roundabout way and then raised my finger up.

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