Visions (19 page)

32

On the last Friday of term, there was a sense of jubilation around Logford High. Pupils couldn’t wait for freedom and the teachers, especially us newbies, were amazed that survived to this point! There was just one more full term to go until I had been there a full year. At the end of the day, Morgan and I found ourselves standing next to each other in the corridor wishing our pupils a happy Easter. “Are you looking forward to our night out?” I asked.

              “Night out?” Morgan asked, her forehead creasing in confusion. “Bye Johnny. Have a good break!”

              “Oh, are we still on for next weekend?”

Morgan started at my words. “Yes! I’d totally forgotten in all the fuss today, but yes, I’m looking forward to it. You should wear that cream dress with the lace trim on it.”

I nodded, thinking how inappropriate that would be for going clubbing.

              Theo was working for most of the first week, so I spent this time getting all my marking done and preparing lessons for next term. I sat at the dining table working for so long that I had to keep getting up to stop my legs from going completely numb. In the evenings, I went over to my mother’s place for dinner or she came over to mine. I caught up with a few friends from university over the phone and as usual, it was like we’d never had any time apart, but when it came to trying to organise a time to catch up in person, it started to fall apart. Our diaries were much too full; we all had jobs miles away from each other and each one of us had started dating now. 

The only break in the monotony of the week was my visit from Dr Cornwell, who came at exactly the time she’d stated, armed with an A4 notepad and full-to-popping pencil case. Although our conversation was very formal, she did get bored of hearing me call her Dr Cornwell repeatedly and asked me to call her Hannah, instead.

She asked lots of questions about my memories of the visions, particularly ones in my earlier years, but I was unable to offer much information. We discussed the possibility of her speaking with my mother about this period of time in my life, which I was sure she would agree to. Hannah’s eyes lit up when she saw my own pad of notes, which was complete with every little detail about my recent visions. When she asked if she could take it away to scan into her laptop, I pondered for a moment before agreeing. It seemed so long since I’d experienced a vision that I predicted I wouldn’t be needing it for a couple of days, anyway.

When Hannah asked me about my most traumatic vision, I offered her two accounts. One I described as being a true memory; that of the boy with the blurred face standing over me with his eyes full of fury. The other was more of a triggered recollection from when my mother had told me about before my father’s death. Hannah scribbled away while I talked and I found it therapeutic. We were both shocked when she looked up from her pad to see that I was silently weeping while I talked. She attempted to be sympathetic and I couldn’t help but warm to her. After Hannah had left, promising to return after correlating my notes with my medical records, I took a long shower to wash the feeling of despondence off me, and then went for a long walk to tire myself out.

I tried not to worry about my relationship with Theo, but it did seem a bit like every time I tried to contact him, he either didn’t answer my call or when he did, he was too busy to stay on the line for long. It was Thursday before I felt that his attention was back on me. He phoned to say that he was finishing his shift in an hour and wanted to meet me at seven o’ clock at the Chinese restaurant that was fast becoming our regular haunt.

              When I got there, he was already seated at a table which had a lit candle in the centre. The flame was reflected on two champagne flutes and as Theo saw me, he began to pour. As I walked over, he stood to pull out my chair for me. I was aware of him catching the attention of other female diners and felt proud. “Is something going on?” I asked, taking my seat.

              “Nothing spectacular. I just wanted to ask if you were free this weekend?”

I was about to say I was, until I remembered Morgan and our night out.

              “I actually have plans with Morgan. Didn’t I tell you?”

“You did, but wouldn’t you rather come to Paris with me for the weekend?” I’m sure that my heart skipped a beat at his words. Paris? I’d never been there

and to go with Theo, well . . . that would just be amazing. He pulled out his phone, scrolled down and then put it on speaker as it started to ring.

To my surprise, Morgan answered with a cheery greeting for Theo. “Have you told her, then?”

              “Yes, she knows. She’s a little bit worried that you might be upset at her cancelling your girls’ night out.”

              “Can she hear me?”

              “I can hear you,” I answered.

              “The night was set up deliberately so you would keep your weekend free for Paris, but if you insist on rearranging, we’ll catch up when you get back. I’m sure you’ll have lots to tell me about. Enjoy your dinner!” As we said goodbye, I heard a male voice joining Morgan’s and realised that she had Will over.

I was pleased for her. She deserved some happiness after the terrible events of this school year.

              Looking back at Theo, I couldn’t believe that we were going to Paris. Morgan was right about my cream dress; it would be perfect for a romantic dinner in Paris. Theo told me that we would be flying tomorrow morning, so I would need to go back home and pack.

“I can’t believe you’ve done this, Theo! It’s amazing!”

              “I’m not sure how you feel, Gill,” he replied, “but this is serious for me. I really like you and I want to be with you as much as I possibly can.”

I took his hands that were wrestling with each other nervously on the table.

“I feel the same, Theo. I know I can be distracted at times with all this vision stuff, but I really appreciate everything that you do for me. You make me really…happy. I hope you know that!”

              “I do now!” Theo beamed, holding up his champagne flute for a toast. “To happiness and us!”

              “To happiness and us!” I repeated as our glasses chinked together.

              After the meal, we hailed a taxi to Theo’s place, where he ran inside and came back out with a carry-on bag for the aeroplane. “I hope you don’t mind me crashing at yours for the night?” he asked me with a smile.

I certainly didn’t. There was no better way to spend a night than in Theo’s arms.

33

Everybody I’ve known who has been to Paris had completely romanticised their visit, even getting sparkly-eyed as they described the sights, but I never expected it to actually live up to the accounts. My breath was taken away as our taxi chauffeured us through the busy streets to our hotel. The people filling the streets were fashionable enough to look like they had stepped out of the glossy pages of vogue, and the windows of the boutiques offered an insight as to where their stylish clothes had come from. The hotels all looked immaculate and glamorous. I was pleased to see that ours was no exception.  Even the corridors had their own smell, a result of the lilies that decorated every twist and turn we took. Our room was up to the same exquisite standard. As I explored the white porcelain bathroom, complete with a Jacuzzi bath big enough for two, Theo threw himself onto the biggest four poster bed I’d ever seen, grabbed a huge, red apple from the fruit basket, and took a satisfied bite from it. 

              “So, what do you say we go exploring?” I suggested, wrapping my cardigan around my shoulders. Theo got up from the bed, took my hand, and led me back to where he had been lying.

              “Later, but first of all…” His voice faded and then he was kissing me. Paris would have to wait.

              Leaving the room an hour later and both famished, we were determined to find somewhere decent to eat. We walked past a sophisticated looking restaurant on a corner where people were actually queuing up to get a table.  I stopped to look in the window. It was cram-packed and I could see why. The décor was decadent and the food being carried around by the staff looked amazing. My mouth started to water.

“Do you like the look of this one?” Theo asked.

              “We’d have to queues for hours,” I replied, pulling him away gently.

              “Maybe another day, then?” Theo said. “It’s called Thoumieux. We’ll see if it’s as busy tomorrow.”

              We found a quiet little bistro with tables outside where we could sit and watch the people go by. I was glad we’d chosen it. My camembert and grape baguette was the most exquisite food I’d ever tasted, and Theo was in agreement when he tasted his own baguette laden with roast lamb cooked in rosemary. We spent the rest of the afternoon walking around the streets of Paris, Theo taking in the architecture and me photographing every single thing as though it might disappear any second. Theo insisted that we go in all the boutiques that caught my eye. Although I enjoyed this, I refused to buy anything or let him buy anything for me. The wares on offer were beautiful, but the prices were extortionate.

              When we got back to the hotel, I was more than ready for a long, luxurious bath. Despite hoping that Theo would offer to join me in the tub, he wanted to explore the hotel.

              That evening, we ate at the hotel and I tried lobster for the first time. It was delicious. We returned to the room exhausted and inebriated due to our immense consumption of the fruitiest Pinot Noir I’d ever tasted.  Theo wanted to go on to a bar until we noticed the time; it was just gone midnight.

“Tomorrow night,” I assured him sleepily. I pulled on my nightdress, which

looked noticeably shabby in the luxury of our modern hotel room. I made a promise to myself that if I left Paris with anything, it would be an elegant new nightdress.

              In the morning, I told Theo about my promise to myself over breakfast. The buffet the hotel provided was like a little piece of heaven. While Theo nibbled on croissants, I gave in to oversized helpings of smoked salmon, sweet breads and delicious creamy, scrambled eggs. I noticed that Theo couldn’t even look at my plate and didn’t seem able to keep still. He must have a hangover, I surmised, upset for him but relived that I wasn’t feeling rough, myself.

              The first thing we did when we left the hotel was return to one of the designer underwear shops that we’d passed yesterday. I picked out a pale blue negligee, much to Theo’s delight. For the amount of material it had taken to make such a skimpy piece of nightwear, I was surprised at the price, but I brushed Theo’s offer of payment away and paid for it myself. After all, I was over half way through my first year of teaching and hadn’t treated myself to anything new since last summer.

              We spent the rest of the day exploring art galleries and taking in as much of Paris as we could. I bought postcards, even though Theo reminded me that we would be back before they arrived.

“I always send a postcard to my Grandma Judy. It’s like a tradition,” I explained. “Plus, the care-assistants at the home stick them up for her on the wall. My mum would probably like one, too, if not just for the French stamp.” We found an ice-cream café and sat down to write them.

              “You’ve never talked about your Grandma before,” Theo said. “Is she from your mother’s side of the family?”

              “No. She’s my father’s mother. We used to visit her every single weekend, but

it’s become too painful for my mum. Gran doesn’t recognise her anymore so each time we go, she has to explain who she is, which obviously means talking about my dad. Then Gran asks why my dad doesn’t come to see her anymore…”

              “I can see how that would be hard. Has she any other family?”

              “Yes, there’s my Uncle Carl but he’s always been a bit of a wild child. Even now he’s in his fifties, it’s difficult to pin him down. When Dad died, he showed some interest for a little while, but I think he got bored of the ‘family life,’ so he disappeared again. Dad always talked about him like he was in awe of him or something. He would tell us these stories about things that Carl had done, always starting with the same opening line;
when your Uncle Carl was in…
As far as I’m concerned, there’s more to be said for being there for people and having a family than there is for behaving like Peter Pan.”

              “Does he visit your grandma?”

              “Only on occasion and even then, if he can cobble together a reasonably plausible excuse, he’ll do so. Mum tries not to get annoyed by it, but it really hit home how little he visits when Gran asked her who the man with the grey hair was in the photo on her window ledge. The changes in his appearance are too much for her because of the time gaps. She can’t link who he is now to the memory she has of him.” I paused to lick stamps for my postcards. “I suppose because my dad died before the dementia started, she always recognises him. He didn’t have time to alter with age.”

              “What was he like?” Theo asked, grabbing the postcards as we left the table.

              “My dad? I think he was kind and loving, hardworking, too, but I don’t remember many specific times with him. I was too young. Much of what I know, I’ve learned from my mum when she speaks about him.”

“I’m sure he’d be proud of you if he could see the woman you’ve become. Your mother has done a great job.” Theo put his arm round me and squeezed gently. “Right, I think we’d better get back to the hotel,” he said, checking his watch.

              “But it’s only half four! Come on, Theo, we have to fly home tomorrow. I want to make the most of this.” I looked up at him with wide eyes, hoping to convince him but he looked peaky, which was strange. I thought he’d recovered from his hangover. “You know, it’s fine. Let’s get back and you can have a relaxing bath this evening.”