Gravitate (28 page)

I wandered upsta
irs to collect the Blake book.
It was still on the side of my bed and, as I approached it, I notice
d something sticking out of it. A white feather.
It had been put in the middle of the book, t
aking the place of a bookmark.
My pulse had quickened and I
was holding my breath.
My fingers fumbled as I opened the book to th
e page marked with the feather.
The
poem was entitled ‘The Angel’.
Tears
ran down my face as I read it.
The narrative of the poem spoke to me, but two lines, in particular, seemed to b
e written for me and my angel. I read them again and again.
‘
And I wept both night and
day/And he wiped my tears away
’.
Marty, my own angel, who had sat with me so often when I cried, who brushed my tears away so gen
tly, who had captured my heart.
He’d v
isited me.
I didn’t know how he’d managed it, how he’d got past t
he Dominion, and I didn’t care.
I needed to know that he was think
ing of me and he’d found a way.

I re-read the poem
and my elation started to fade. The poem was a message to me.
The angel left, the maiden queen dried her tears and she moved on, she grew old. Marty
was telling me to do the same.
My chest f
elt as though it would explode.
I ran to the en-suite, where I cri
ed so hard I made myself sick.

I didn’t write my essay.
I didn’
t eat.
I didn’t think any
more about my dad’s business.
I crawled into bed and cried myself to sleep, holding on to the white feather that was my only link to the love I’d lost.

Chapter 20

I slept rig
ht through to the next morning.
I’d gone from waking up early and being unable to sleep, to managing to sleep a whole day
away.
Perhaps heartbreak was as physical
ly draining as it was mentally.
I got myself prepared for my meet
ing with Melissa, my solicitor.
I was relieved to see that the bump on my head was no longer swollen and th
e bruising had started to fade.
I could cove
r the worst of it with make up.
I didn’t want anyone to think that I’d
started drinking heavily again.
The truth – that I’d forced myself to faint, so that I could have an out of body experience and talk to an angel – was probably likely to get me locked up in a mental institution.

The snow had started to melt and, as I hadn’t left the house since my rehearsal, I decided to
walk to the solicitor’s office.
The cold air was refre
shing, numbing.
I shuffled along, my hood up to keep my ears warm, keeping my head down so that I didn’t have to make eye contact with anyone, not that there were many people walking about, in the cold, this early in the morning.

It didn’t take me long to
get to Melissa’s office.
I’d booked an early appointment, so that I would have time to begin my Christmas shopping before
my rehearsal in the afternoon.
I’d been putting off Christmas shopping, knowing that it would be strange not buying presents for my
parents this year.

I signed in at the reception desk and walked the fami
liar route to Melissa’s office.
Her assistant wasn’t in work yet, but the receptionist had assured me that
Melissa would be at her desk.
I knocked on the door and waited.

Melissa opened the door a
nd welcomed me into her office.
She noticed my bruise straig
ht away, but didn’t mention it.
I took off my coat and hung it on the coat rack on the back of the door.

“Claudia, how have you been?”

Well, my parents died, I got sent a guardian angel who fell in love with me, I fell in love with him, higher angels found out, forced him to leave me, now I can’t stop crying and I bruised m
y head forcing myself to faint.
“I’m fine,” I said, lying.

“Good.” I could tell she didn’t believe me, but it wasn’t her place to interfere. “Well, I shan’t keep you long, I just wanted to run you through your options regarding your father’s business.” Melissa looked at me and I nodded, so she continued: “You can either stay on as the senior partner, having authority over the whole business; or you can transfer those rights to another individual, selling the business to that person; or you can stay on as a silent partner, still owning your share, but having very little interference in the day-to-day running of the company – again, you’d have to transfer some authority to another individual, for that option.”

“I don’t know what I want to do.” I felt like a child.

“I ca
n’t make that decision for you.
Do you know much about your father’s business?” Melissa raised an eyebrow at me.

I shook my head. “Hardly anything.
Mum sort of resented the hours Dad spent there, for a long time, so s
he didn’t want to get involved.
We kept family time separate
from work time.”
I thought back to Ben telling me how his dad had wanted him to follow him into the business – my dad had never put that pressure on me.

She nodded. “I understand.
Perhaps a visit to your father’
s office would be illuminating?
You could see for yourself how it works and decide if you want to be involved o
r not.
I can have the documents drawn up as soon as you make your choice.”

“How soon do I have to decide?”

“You have a few weeks, there is no legal reason to rush, but Mr Acton
is keen to get things settled.
He said the staff morale is low following your father’s death and the uncertainty isn’t helping.”

“OK.” My voice sounde
d small. Young.
Scared.

“I’ll ring Mr Acton up now and make an appointment for you.” She said it kindly, as though she was concerned that I wasn’t brave enough to talk to him myself
.
She looked up the number from a file with my name at the top and then quickly dialled, drumming her fingers on the desk while she waited
for the phone to be picked up.
“Good morning, Melissa Talbot, ca
lling on behalf of Claudia Lee.
Yes, I’ve just been discussing the matter with Miss Lee…No, she hasn’t made a decision, she’d like to visit the workplace…Of course, I
didn’t think it was a problem.
Let me just check…” Melissa covered the mouthpiece with her hand and spoke to me. “Any time after 9am tomor
row, is that good for you?”
I nodded and she spoke back into the phone, “that’s perfect, Miss Lee will see you then. Thank you, goodbye.”

“Thank you, Melissa.
You didn’t have to do that for me.”

“Not a problem. Send me an email or call me
when you’ve reached a decision.”

“I will.”
I stood up to leave, hol
ding out my hand to shake hers.
I put my coat back on and headed out of the office.

It was still quiet on the streets as I made the s
hort walk into the town centre.
Most stores had only just opened a
nd there were few shoppers yet.
I needed to buy presents for my cousins, Aunt Sandra and Uncle Ned, but beyond that, I didn
’t have many people to buy for.
My friends from school and I had never really bought each other gifts at Christmastime, choosing to sav
e the money to go out together.
I didn’t feel particularly close to anybody at university, except perhaps Sofia and Ben and, even then, I wasn’t sure i
f we would be exchanging gifts.
I needed an outfit for the following night, when I was meeting up with Jade fo
r our ‘single girls’ night out.
I
shuddered slightly at the idea.
The old me h
ad loved shopping for clothes.
Right now, I didn’t care what I was wearing, but I supposed I
had to try and make an effort.
He wasn’t coming back, I reminded mysel
f.
Life had to go on.

I went in a toyshop and quickly found suitable gifts for all my cousins and bought some colourful wrapping pape
r and Christmas cards, as well.
I went into another shop and bought a pampering gift set of expensive bath treats for Aunt Sandra, knowing she felt that a long soak in th
e bath was her relaxation time.
I purchased some aftershave for Uncle Ned, getting a gift receipt in case
I’d picked one he didn’t like.
I c
ouldn’t put it off any longer.
I headed to the clothes shop that had been my favouri
te before my parents had died.
I decided to keep the outfit simple, choosing a fitted black dress,
red heels and a red clutch bag.
I didn’t bother to try anything on, hoping the dress and sh
oes would fit when I got home.
I’d had enough for today.

With so many bags to carry, I couldn’t walk home, and I didn’t fancy getting a bus,
so I treated myself to a taxi.
It felt indulgent, but I could afford it – I ha
dn’t bought groceries in days.

The taxi driver, thankfully, was not chatty and I gave him
a handsome tip as a thank you.
I dumped the bags of shopping on the kitchen table a
nd got ready for my rehearsal.
I remembered to eat lunch; skipping meals was becoming
far too commonplace these days.
I applied more make up over my bruise, knowing that Donna would make a comment if she noticed it and headed to the university theatre.

Sofia and Ben were already there, sitting toge
ther, chatting, when I arrived.
They both smiled and I felt the happiest I’d b
een all day, seeing them happy.
I joined them bef
ore the rehearsal got underway.
Sofia
noticed my bruise as I took off my hat.

“Ouch – you weren’t kidding!
That looks sore.”

“Shit,” I said, tired of watching my language, “Donna’s bound to notice.”

“Tell her it’s from the light nearly killing you – that’ll shut her up instantly,” Ben laughed and
Sofia
looked at him like he
’d just invented sliced bread.
Operation matchmaker was definitely a success.

“Well, I did see my solicitor today,” I commented and I watched their mouths simultaneously
drop to the floor. “Not about my near miss.
About your dad, Ben, actually.”

“Why?” Ben seemed completely clueless.

“Something to do with the business – I now own my dad’s share and I have
to decide what to do with it.
I’m meeting your dad tomorrow morning, what’s he like?”

Ben shrugged. “He’s cool.”

“He won’t think I’m interfering?” I asked.

“He will probably be relieved that someone is taki
ng an interest in the business.
He’s being trying to get me into it for years.”

“Can you put in a good word for me, tonight?  Let him know I’m not trying to arrange a coup?” I wasn’t about to admit it, but the thought of meeting Ben’s
dad tomorrow was troubling me.
He might be angry that I was sticking my nose into his business.

“I won’t see him tonight, I’m go
ing to see my mum and step-dad.
I could call him for you, if you want, but
you really don’t have to worry.
He’s easy going with everyone but me.” He rolled his eyes. 

At that moment, Donna
called the rehearsal to order.
She wanted to run the
first act all the way through.
I was involved in most of the songs, leaving very little time to think about Marty, Ben’s dad, the business and the other
things that filled up my mind.
Waiting in the wings, during the second song, I nearly burst into tears when one of my fellow cast members sang the line ‘
still the clock ticks on and time doesn’t wait, and you have to accept the cruel hand of fate
’. I didn’t want to accept
for the life I’d been ha
lf living these past few days.
I wanted Marty.

Perhaps it was because I had already had an answer planned out, but Donna didn’t make a com
ment about my bruised forehead.
In fact, she was quiet (for
her) throughout the rehearsal.
It went quickly, witho
ut her interruptions.