Chapter 7

Clara;

As I said, I settled in to life at Felixstowe Ferry. I took on most of the housework for Jessica and helped out with looking after Davey while Jenni was working. Work, for Jenni, involved helping some students who were distance learning and needed support with maths. Her involvement with the barges was not, in her way of thinking, ‘work’, even though she was paid for it. Jessica went to Cambridge with me to pick up the clothes, books and such like I’d stored when I left the city. We visited the solicitor, who knew Jessica slightly, and signed a lot of paper. We arranged for the furniture of my parents’ house to be sold by auction, and he persuaded me to store their memorabilia. “It’s painful for you now, but in years to come you – or your descendants – may value it.”

There had been firm offers on the house. The best one was from a developer who wanted to convert it for multi-occupation, but I shook my head over that, and chose one from a couple whose offer was in the middle of the range.

Jessica had me drive back to Felixstowe, showed me where she kept the keys, and gave me permission to use the car. Not that I had much need for it, except for shopping. Jenni and Jessica had made their own arrangements for shopping before I stayed there. I didn’t use it much; I much preferred to walk if I were just getting out and about, but it did give me a little freedom.

One day, though, while I was shopping, I bumped into a man, or he bumped into me, and I dropped the carrots I was about to put in the trolley. He was tall, neatly if casually dressed, apparently a few years older than myself. He apologised, and I found myself accepting an invitation to coffee. He was pleasant, apparently intelligent, and divorced. One thing led to another, and, for the first time in a couple of years, I was on a date.

At the end – I did quite enjoy it – I kissed him, but all I could think of was Rob. There was absolutely nothing wrong with the guy ... except ... he wasn’t Rob. I talked to Jenni, who just smiled. “You know, I was just the same with Dave. But he was obviously meant for Jessica, and then I met Marty. Clara, don’t settle. Wait for the guy who makes you tingle. But also, be careful you don’t fall for the ‘bad boy’.

I sighed and shrugged.

The days passed, and I began to think about my education. Honestly, I could pass on that if I wanted. I had, or would have, when the house sold, enough money that even with a minimum wage job I could be very comfortable. On the other hand, I loved my subject. I just didn’t want to return to Cambridge. I chewed over the possibility of one of the East Anglian universities. I talked to Jenni, whose degrees were from the OU – the Open University.

“The OU is good. Their degrees are well respected. But all modesty aside, it’s a tough way to get a qualification.”

“But I could do it from here.”

“You could, and Jessica would love to have you staying here. I’m just not sure it’s the best thing for you.”

Anyway, there I was. Safe, secure, yes. I was carrying out a useful function. I enjoyed looking after Davey, and doing the housework for Jessica. I just didn’t have any direction in my life, and there was an empty space in me that I was only occasionally aware of.

We got into March. On the East Coast, that doesn’t mean it gets warm. F’sure, there were the first signs of spring. Yellow Coltsfoot, for example. More daylight. But you still have to layer up if you’re going out. But one Sunday we all went to church. That’s something they – we – do sometimes, not every week. At lunch-time we had toasties instead of a roast.

“I thought we’d have dinner in the evening,” Jessica said. “We may be getting visitors. We’ll see.”

So there we were, Sunday afternoon. Jenni was there with Marty, and I was playing on the floor with Davey. Tiddly Winks. I hadn’t played that game in many years. I thought I heard a motorbike, but didn’t think anything of it. For one thing, there was the whole house between us and the road, and motorbikes are far from unknown to visit the Ferry. Jessica got up. I still didn’t think anything of it, even when she didn’t reappear for several minutes.

The door opened. I didn’t look up immediately. But when I did, oh, my...

It was Rob. I think my heart stopped. And then restarted, pounding. I think we were both frozen in place for some time; no idea how long, but suddenly I was in his arms and I was squeezing him and he was holding me.

Jessica cleared her throat – loudly – behind Rob, and he shifted out of the way of the door. I let him go, though I didn’t want to, and he accepted the steaming mug which Jessica held out to him with a word of thanks.

“No problem! Take a seat. If you’re staying, of course...”

He laughed. “Oh, I’m staying. I just got a little distracted there.” He looked at me, smiled, and winked. Then crossed the room to a large stuffed armchair and lowered himself into it carefully, before taking a sip at his mug. A blissful expression crossed his face and he sipped again. “Wonderful,” he sighed. “Thank you, Jessica.”

I was still standing where he’d left me, uncertain what to do. Jenni had taken my place with Davey, though I’m sure I could have gone back to him. I made up my mind. Crossed the room. Gently moved Rob’s right hand holding that hot mug out of the way. Lowered myself into his lap and snuggled into him, resting my head on his shoulder with a sigh.

He responded by wrapping his left arm round me and kissing me on my head.

At last, all was right in my world.

He finished his drink, though he couldn’t put the mug down because of having me occupying his lap. But he kissed my head again, and bent to whisper in my ear.

“Clara Shaftesbury...”

“Uh huh?”

“Will you marry me?”

What?

Rob...

The words just left my mouth without any intention from me. It may have had something to do with the warm, supple body in my arms, the scent of her glossy hair in my nostrils. It may have been a synapse burping in my head. I certainly hadn’t had any conscious thought of marrying anyone.

But the feminine body, which had moulded itself to me in my lap, stiffened, and she pulled away a little.

“Rob! Really?”

I didn’t want to say that the question had been an impulse. Besides, thinking about it, it seemed a pretty good idea to me. “I’ve missed you,” I said.

“Yeah,” she breathed. “I’ve missed you, too. A lot.” She relaxed back into my arms, but then murmured, “Can I think about it?”

“Of course!”

I finished the mug of coffee, and the heat soaked into my bones. That, and Clara’s supple, warm, form in my arms soon had me comfortable. And ... happy.

Davey lost interest in the tiddly-winks and abandoned his mother to come over to me, or, probably, Clara.

“C’ara play?”

“Davey, let Clara cuddle with her friend,” Jenni’s voice broke in to our little world.

“Want to play tiddly-winks with Davey?” I murmured in her ear.

“I want to stay here and cuddle.”

“So do I, but there’ll be time to cuddle later, won’t there?”

“I suppose.” She twisted in my arms and kissed me on the lips, just a peck. “Later, then.”

She slid off my lap and went to join Jenni on the floor. I followed. Having apportioned coloured counters all round, I rediscovered how difficult it is to judge how hard to flick one in order to land in the cup. That occupied us until Jessica called us for supper. Roast beef, that quintessential British Sunday meal. Yorkshire pudding. Roast potatoes. Veg. Gravy. Marty carved the meat, pink in the middle, tender and tasty.

Afterwards, we took mugs of tea back to the lounge. Jenni and Marty took Davey home. Jessica drew the curtains across; dark outside, there was nothing to see.

I was alone with Jessica, as Clara insisted on clearing up.