Bernadette Azizi - Undying

I faced the door but I just stood there.

“Catherine… wait… I believe you; I just don’t think it was Mr Kemp.”

“Then who”? I snapped.

He didn’t reply. He just stood dazed and unable to help. I regretted snapping at him. He had done nothing but be nice since I had arrived. But his support for Mr Kemp was mind-boggling.

“Good night,” I opened his door and left without looking back.

It was almost impossible to get out of bed the next morning. Still frustrated and angry about last night’s events, especially not being believed by James. When I did finally get out of bed and headed to the window, the clouds were dark but there was no rain as yet. Suddenly James and Mr Kemp were both in sight on the front grounds walking alongside each other talking.

Mr Kemp stopped, he was ropable, throwing his arms about like the crazed fool that he was. I immediately felt ill.

How dare he be so rude to James!

What was he saying ?

I couldn’t make it out. But he then pointed to my direction, I froze in shock but relaxed when I remembered I couldn’t see into the windows when I first arrived that day, so it was safe to assume that he couldn’t see me. James looked over his shoulder, in my direction also but his stare was different, I felt he could see me.

Mr Kemp headed back into the main building with James following. Curious to know where they were going and what was being said, I leapt into the shower and threw on some running clothes in record time. I opened my door and looked down the corridor towards James’s room. His door was half open.

I turned back and locked my door. In that instant, Jules had come out dressed in casual clothes also.

“Good morning, you’re not going for a run are you?” Jules enquiry, with excitement in her eyes.

“Yes, yes I am. Want to join me?” I asked.

“Absolutely!” was Jules’s delighted reply.

“I’ll race you to the fountain,” I challenged her.

“Oh, oh yes, of course,” she replied, flustered.

We both started giggling. As we passed James’s door, I tried with all my might to resist looking in. But Jules had a different idea — she walked right up to the door and looked in. To our surprise, Mr Kemp and James were coming out of the room. Mr Kemp looked completely perplexed — which was priceless — James’s eyes caught mine, and were pleased and relieved.

“Would you boys like to join us for a run?” Jules asked sarcastically.

“No, no, I am busy today,” Mr Kemp replied, baffled.

Jules then looked at James with a raised eyebrow.

“I will pass too, Miss Kent. Thank you for the invitation,” James said. “Have a great run, ladies,” he said as he ushered Mr Kemp out of his room.

Jules and I headed off. We both ignored Mr Kemp as we passed him. Mr Kemp slowly and awkwardly made his way to his room and eventually James closed his door. I followed Jules’s unhurried lead. She took me on a track that I had not noticed before. It was veiled with soaring trees and their heavy foliage. It was an easy path, effortless to navigate but narrow, forcing us to run in single file.

We had been jogging for over a half hour, when I felt a few raindrops on my skin and then a few more. Then the rain started to pour down.

“Catherine, don’t fret! We will wait it out at the old miner’s cottage, which is not so far from here,” panting, Jules struggled to get her words out.

She was also shouting as the rain was bucketing down now and it was difficult to hear. After a while, I was not so convinced that there actually was a cottage nearby. I couldn’t see one anywhere near, and we were already soaked.

Suddenly, the path split into two. Jules went left and I followed. This trail was different to our previous trail. It was rugged; a light green moss covered the loose terrain, making it slippery. It descended rapidly and was not easy to navigate. It seemed that this trail was not regularly used; its wet overgrown foliage striking against our bodies.

About ten minutes later, I could finally see the cottage.

“Here we are!” Jules pointed with her arm stretched out ahead.

And there it was. A run-down little cottage: abandoned and unexceptional. Built out of dark charcoal stones with a shingle roof, it was almost overgrown by the trees that surrounded it. Jules lifted the rusty latch and with a big squeak the old door opened. Surprisingly, the inside of the cottage was well kept.

“Thank God for this cottage. I can’t tell you how many times it has saved me from our erratic weather.”

“How long do you think we will have to stay here?” I asked.

“Not too long. I might get the fire on, just in case. Our wonderful Dr Simons found out that I had been caught here a few times, and surprised me by stocking up the cottage with some firewood and a few other necessities for me. Dr Simons is a true gentleman.”

If I didn’t know any better, I would bet that Jules had something for our ‘wonderful Dr Simons’. It seemed that he might have something for her too.

“Jules, how long has Dr Simons been at the college?”

“Oh, I remember that day quite clearly: two-and-a-half years ago. It was a stormy Saturday afternoon. He was expected to arrive in the morning, but his plane was delayed and the weather didn’t help his journey to the college.” Jules paused to attend to the fire, and then continued. “He was completely soaked when he arrived. I got him some towels and showed him to his room. He was very appreciative and the next morning he wrote me a card thanking me for being so welcoming and hospitable. We have been close friends ever since. We have so much in common, what with our walks and a love of flowers and wine.”

“Is he married?” I asked abruptly.

“No, never married. I don’t understand why. He would make any woman proud to be his wife,” she replied.

“Is he coming to dinner tonight?” I asked.

“Why, yes he is, and Mr Barclay.”

“Oh… OK… that’s great.”

I tried not to act excited at the opportunity to see James this evening.

The fire was burning strongly now and the cottage had a nice cosy feel about it. There was a small run-down kitchenette, a small sofa in front of the fireplace and a four-seater timber dining table. The two other rooms I assumed were the bedroom and the bathroom. The room got very warm very quickly and we both stood in front of the fire to dry our clothes as much as we could. Jules started humming. She was in such a good mood. Talking about Dr Simons and being at the cottage had left her happy and content. I was determined to have them together before the year was over. We both sat on the sofa thinking. Between the crackling of the fire and the thumping of the rain, Jules and I didn’t need to speak. Other than the wet clothes, I felt so comfortable and at ease. I laid my head onto the sofa and closed my eyes to think about James.

I was terrified of the feelings I had for him; they were getting stronger. I wondered about his feelings towards me; could he care for me that way or was it all in my head. Perhaps he was just an empathetic principal trying to comfort me.

“Listen. I think the rain has stopped,” Jules announced.

We looked at each other for a second and then got up at the same time and ran out of the cottage, laughing.

The run back seemed a lot quicker. As we approached the college, we slowed to a walk.

“Jules? Who owns the cottage?” I asked.

“Oh, that would be Mr Cartwright.”

“What!”

“It’s fine. He has no interest in it, which is obvious from the state it is in. I don’t think I have ever seen or heard of him being there. Oh, no, I lie… he was there once last year. Dr Simons went to stock up the cottage and walked in on Mr Cartwright. Dr Simons was very embarrassed but Mr Cartwright was a perfect gentleman and was pleased that the cottage was being used occasionally. He even invited Dr Simons to stay for tea and they had a marvellous talk. Mr Cartwright owns a substantial amount of property in the area, and rumour has it that once upon a time, his family owned most of the land surrounding the college. The properties have been sold off throughout the years.”