On his penultimate evening in Bristol
he broke three promises – one that he would walk to London with his
cousin from Bath, two that he would visit his father's grave, and the
third, a fresher promise made to the girl he loved. When he and
Rachel had discussed, months before to light up their love for one
another, the best they could do was come to a mutual agreement of
cold separation. 'No texting,' she said when they came to this
agreement, 'no facebook, no phone calls, no nothing.' His voice had
always weakened her, his appearance intensifying her zeal to kiss him, and his eyes luring her into what she knew was bad for her. 'I don't
want to know anything about your condition, any changes or whatever,
I don't want to know.' As he walked out of the coffee scented room,
he witnessed her eyes fall to the ground, having a feel of utter
resolution at the decision made. Her look of utter resolution
lingered late in his mind this evening as he watched from his window
the soft swaying leaves of the orchard tree.
'That was three months ago,' he
thought. 'She always watches me whenever I departed from her.' Taking
a deep breath, he laid on his bed, staring at his dull ceiling in a
longing remembrance of how this very room was the place where they
had indulged in their deceit and imprisoned the fame of their
togetherness. She would stay until past midnight, ignoring the calls
from her boyfriend and shower him with affections that she knew
rightly belonged to him. 'We had a season of love, a spring
of passion now ended by her.' he reflected. 'What was it all for?'
'What did I become?'
Agitated by the lingering fondness to
lay his eyes upon her and talk through the meaning of their
undercover relationship, he rose from his loitering to once again
walk along her road. The evening, very quietened with only the
irregular disturbance of a speeding car, and the rough pavement which
led to her house often reminded him that what laid ahead was fraught
with perils- her anger, her hatred, her disgust. 'How did she deal
with the promise.' he thought. 'Did guilt haunt her? Am I dead in
her mind? Will she look hard on my face and when I depart from her
will she watch me go?' This thoughts ceased him from realising that
he was nearly by her door, only the familial smell of the slothful
roses in her garden awakened him to his nearness. He thought: 'Will
she be inside. What if her parents answer the door.'
Before knocking, he listened for
Rachel's voice and opened his ears as he often did in the past. If
classical music was playing, it was the sign that she was inside. He
pressed the bell. The nostalgia of it all induced him to breathe
deeply. His nervousness under the starry sky made him step back from
the door. As he did so, a young girl opened the door and said. 'Do
you want Rachel?'
Hit by the irony of the words, the
shock of seeing Rachel's eyes in her younger sister's looking
directly at him, he could not answer her at once. The young girl did
not wait for his reply. 'She is inside. You can come in and see her.'
'I would rather see her outside.' he
replied.
Moving away from his sight, she
withdrew closer into the house and went to retrieve Rachel.
He waited apprehensively going over his
introductory words. 'What shall I say to her.' The hallway lights
shone brightly on Rachel's face, revealing her scarlet hair and
dalmatian pyjamas. His face was hidden from her. She approached the
door. Seeing him, an unbelieving expression adorned her face. He
realised the full cruelty of his treachery. She slammed the door but
he stopped it before it closed.
'Leave, John. Why are you here?'
'I have come here to see you'. John
continued. 'I can't bare it any longer not knowing how you are
doing.'
'Keep it down.' she interrupted firmly. 'Ben is inside.'
'You are still with him?'
'More than that, we are engaged,
getting married next week.'
'And you wasn't going to tell me?'
'Well one of us was keen on keeping
their promise.'
Closing the door behind her, she guided
him unwillingly to sit on the bench tucked away in the corner of the
garden, now befriended by new sprung daisies.
'I'm going away tomorrow.' his voice
indicated that he wanted her to care. 'So I came here to tell you. I
wanted to see how you were, if you still thought of me and like me, regretted not contacting you sooner.' She remained silent.
'Won't you even look at me?' he said
softly. 'You haven't changed a bit. Still beautiful, still looking
after your scarlet hair. I see that you haven't dyed it back to
brunette. Did you keep this colour because of me?' Reaching to stroke
her hair he leaned closer to her lips and said: 'here you are, my
scarlet Rachel, right in front of my eyes, just like a dignified
scarlet flower in all its glory.' Pressing to kiss her, she pulled
away with all the strength she could muster.
'I think you better leave right now.' And after a pause she informed him that her father has recently been elected the Bishop of London.' Looking into his eyes for the first time this evening, she said with teary eyes: 'Goodbye, John.'
'Is everything ok out here.' sounded
Ben's curious voice. Composing herself, Rachel replied; 'Yes dear.
This is my old friend John. I don't think you have ever met. Come and
say hello dear.
Wise to her reasons of why she bought
Ben here to join in their conversation, John was in no mood to linger
around the man who rightfully and soon legally will have his scarlet
Rachel. Rising from the old rugged bench, John gave his goodbyes to
Rachel and then shakes Ben's hands to signify his departure. Walking
away towards the rough pavement which had often led to her house, he
looked back at her to see if she watched him go. Noticing that her
curious eyes remained on him, he shouted, 'Don't you want to know
where I am going away to?'
'I am still keen on keeping our
promise.' she replied.
By K.Oni
Inspired by Elizabeth Taylor's
Good-bye, Goodbye. (Similar story line and some phrases and
expressions use in this piece can be found in her story) Her story is
much longer. =)
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