Elisabeth Jones - Gold Beach

I went down the stairs as if I was late for school. As I went through the hall to head for the kitchen, I stopped by the wooden table opposite the front door. It was just as I remembered it. There was a little bunch of dried flowers at the centre, lilac this time, tied with a pink ribbon and next to a white candle not yet lit. To the left a picture of John with his white coat and his tie, to the right a picture of Elwyn in his army uniform. The two men my mother had loved shared, on an equal footing, that tiny sanctuary. I stared at my two fathers. I remembered the first one fondly; I still couldn't love the second one.

As I opened the kitchen cupboards my stomach began to growl. If I had phoned my mother sooner, the pantry would be full, but that was not the case. Thankfully I found something to eat. I literally wolfed down a plateful of beans on toast along with a cup of tea as if it were just a starter. To my totally astonishment, I washed up and tidied the kitchen. As I recalled the daily words of reproach from Claire telling me not to leave plates all over the place, I smiled knowing that she finally had succeeded. It was a pity that she wasn't with me to relish her victory. I went into the hall, put my jacket on, picked up the car keys and set off for the supermarket.

Over the thirteen years in which I hadn’t been back in Moffat, the town had changed considerably. I drove down Old Carlisle Rd trying to remember where the nearest supermarket was. When I reached The Holm I turned left to head for the town centre but inexplicably, instead of going straight ahead, I turned into Park Circle, went round the large roundabout and took the second exit to the right. Where was I going? , I thought. I braked and stopped to turn around as soon as I could because I was literally lost. I had lived in this town for seventeen years but it seemed as if it were my first visit. I looked around to try and get my bearings. I had stopped in front of five semi-detached houses. All of them had a little garden at the front, enclosed by perfectly varnished fences that added a touch of colour to the monotony of the grey façades. I searched in both directions for the name of the street, 5 Warriston Rd. I read the name again with my eyes popping out of my head, I stretched my legs, felt my trouser pocket and slowly reached in to pull out the note I had forgotten to throw away. I yield Mr Young, you are completely right , I thought.

My pulse raced and I knew exactly why. A false logic that only hid my own pride told me that what I ought to do was to head for the supermarket and forget stories from the past. But something inside me, which I refused to call heart, constantly repeated her name. I looked at my watch. It was half past one. With a little luck I could invite her to have lunch, I thought. I had time before 6pm to go shopping. But then reason brought me back to reality. Could I just show up in front of her after thirteen years to invite her for lunch as if nothing ever happened? The arrogance of thinking that relationship wouldn't affect me any more and the charisma I’d developed with all the women that had gone through my life made me believe I could. Suddenly the clouds put and end to the truce they had granted to the sun. The sky had turned grey.

For some minutes my mind tried to find the right answers for whatever could come from this reunion, but although I still believed that it wasn't a good idea, I didn't lose my courage. I got out of the car, straightened my clothes and when I was about to go through the gate I remembered Claire. Only a few hours had passed since I left her in Lichfield. I looked at the door. What I was about to do was not a new conquest; I was simply going to visit a childhood friend.

The clouds had completely darkened the sky. Shortly it would start to rain. I stood before the entrance to her new house for some minutes without daring to ring the bell until finally I did. When she opened the door she looked at me with those wonderful blue eyes that I had never managed to forget. Her look could not hide the surprise my unexpected visit provoked. Immediately she pulled up the long neck of her sleeveless pullover until it covered her jaw and adjusted the knitted cardigan she was wearing to cover her bare shoulder. For a few seconds we stared at each other with no reservations as if we wanted to admire the changes that time had taken upon us. And it was then when I understood why it hadn't worked out with anyone else.

Isobel had become a beauty. Her skin was still as soft and white as I remembered it. Her long jet black hair had grown to cover her back with undulations that looked like small waves from the sea. I literally had to bite back the urge to kiss her at that very moment. The last thing I expected at seeing her was to feel a passion again I had thought was already forgotten. For a moment I cursed my damn pride for not having let me come back for her years ago. Mr Young's words came to life once again: ‘Philip, although no one can go back and make a new start, anyone can start from now on and make a new end.’ I would have given anything I needed to know what was on her mind. Silence became so uncomfortable that I couldn't think of anything better to break the ice than using the most moderate phrase in my city wolf repertoire, ‘I'll buy you a beer at the pub . ’

Without saying a single word, she turned around and disappeared inside the house. My first reaction was to think, ‘You deserved that,’ but since the door was kept open I stood waiting without knowing what to do. Those ten minutes were the longest in my life but when she turned up again, it was worth the wait. She had changed clothes and redone her long hair in record time. She was sporting a short sleeveless dress, with a high neck and big patterned flowers in citrus colours. Her handbag and cardigan hung over her arm. She ornamented her long hair with a wide white headband that matched her high platform shoes which made her nearly as tall as me. She looked stunning. She locked the door and with her childish smile said, ‘Let's go before the rain starts.’ I looked at her and smiled because I felt that she had been waiting for me. And as if all those years had become only a few hours, we picked up our friendship just where I had abandoned it.

As we entered the pub, Isobel started to hum aloud the Pink Floyd song that could be heard amidst the bustle. After ordering at the bar, we sat at a table by the window. We toasted with our pints barely looking at each other's eyes. Neither of us could maintain eye contact. She crossed her legs purposefully and started to question me about my life. Soon I embarrassingly discovered that she was aware of everything that had happened to me, she even knew that I had broken up with Claire. My mother's discretion had one exception, Isobel.

‘How are you?’ she asked with a tenderness that indicated concern.

‘Fine, though it may sound strange. There are breakups that hurt you and others that set you free. Luckily, this is one of those.’

‘Have you come back to Moffat to spend the summer or just to switch off at home for a few days?’ she said as she took a sip of beer.

‘I really don't know yet. Theoretically I had to give re-sit classes for the next two weeks, but Mr Young recommended I started my holidays, so I don't need to go back to Lichfield until the end of August.’

‘Who is Mr Young?’ she asked as if she didn't know.

‘He's the headmaster of the school where I work. He's a great person and a great professional who doesn't like scandals, so when Claire showed up at the staff meeting shooting her mouth off about our breakup, with her version of the truth, he called me to his office to tell him what had happened. Evidently it wasn't his intention to meddle in my private life, but he wanted to be aware of the facts to make the right decisions. I still don't know why, but he thinks highly of me and I believe that he was even happy that I finished with her. Claire never was his cup of tea. He told me that he would find a substitute for the re-sit classes and that the best thing I could do was to return to my origins and start over. So that's why I'm here.’