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Of everything that had happened, it was the paintings that I was most upset about. I felt absolutelygrief-strickenabout losing those paintings. All of those beautiful, meaningful paintings that I had collected over the years. They might not have cost a lot or been worth a lot, but they had meant something tome. Together they had represented a hope, a dream that one day, I would make something of my life. Now that they had perished in the fire, did that mean that hope was gone for me too? What more did I have? This was why I needed time to sort through my jumble of thoughts and emotions.
I spend the rest of the day in a haze. I wander around the house. I watch some telly. I go for a walk in the beautiful but cold outdoors. I light some candles and take a bath. I make space for myself within the swirling storm inside my head. I don’t know what the right answers are, but I try to just be present. To enjoy the taste of my food, to be calm, to appreciate the feel of warm water against my skin.
I don’t look at my phone—I don’t even turn it on.
I take a day just to be.
––––––––
THE NEXT MORNING ISjust as glorious as the previous one and for that I am grateful. Two sunny days in a row in December is something special, indeed.
There is a small off-license down the road. I passed it on the way in and made a note of it. I decide I’ll go later in the day, once the temperature rises a bit. For now, I’m quite content staying within the warm confines of the cottage.
I walk up to the bedroom and fish around for my phone. I’m probably going to regret this. I hold the button on the side down, waiting for it to power up. The phone goes crazy and a million text messages and missed phone calls start appearing on my screen. I take a deep breath and walk away as it buzzes continuously. I stare out the bedroom balcony doors while holding a warm cup of tea and take sips while looking out at the lush, green countryside. Even in December, it was gorgeous, untouched. A small rabbit hops along across the green grass and I smile. You can do this.
I set down my tea and head back towards the phone. It’s calmed down but it’s going to take me a while to sort through all of these notifications. I sit on the bed as I begin the tedious work.
There are messages from Candace, from other friends in the building I stayed in.
But then I see it.
The one notification that I was most wanting and most dreading. Actually, there were about two dozen different notifications from Jack. Phone calls, texts, WhatsApp messages, even a few emails. The sharp pang of guilt briefly makes its way into my heart, but I quickly swipe it away. If I look at his messages, he’ll know I’ll have seen it and I won’t be able to hide any longer. The question was—did I still want to hide? Was I ready to re-enter the world I’d exited so unceremoniously, fleeing into the dark night and the even darker countryside? I don’t click on anything just yet. I sit on the bed while my phone continues to buzz and I finish my cup of tea as I ponder what I’m going to do next.
At last, I make a decision. I’m going to call Candace first because her texts look frantic and she deserves to know everything is okay. She picks up after one ring.
‘LEYNA! Are you alright? Oh my God, when I saw on the news... And then I couldn’t reach you...’ She sounds choked up and I feel the weight of my choice to seclude myself from the world.
‘I’m so sorry, Candace. It all happened so fast. I should have sent you a message.’
‘Where did you go? Are you in a hotel?’
‘You won’t believe where I am...’
I recount everything to Candace, just as I did with Huguette, starting first with the wine and cheese.
‘I can’t believe any of this!’ Candace exclaims. ‘All of this in less than twenty-four hours. Are you sure you’re alright? I could always drive out there to keep you company? You shouldn’t be alone right now. It’s a lot to take in.’
‘I promise, I’m fine. Jack’s neighbour stopped by earlier so I’ve not been completely alone. I just needed some space and some time to think.’
‘You can stay with me.’
‘Thanks, Candace. I’m going to stay here another couple of days, I think. It’s beautiful and away from the thick of it—it’s like a retreat.’
‘What about when you get back, where will you stay?’
‘I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.’
‘You know you can stay with me. In the meantime, please, don’t be tough, don’t be strong. Just call me if you need anything, anything at all.’
‘I will. Thank you.’
‘Just so you know I’m going to be checking in on you every day. Every single day so don’t even think about going dark again.’
‘I know you will,’ I smile. There’s no point arguing with Candace. ‘Thank you for checking up on me.’
I spend the rest of the day wandering around the cottage and I get the shock of my life when I see the email that’s just popped up on my phone. I can’t believe my eyes. I’ve been waiting weeks to hear back and of all times, they send it now. The university, in conjunction with the County Council and an outside business development scheme, have awarded me the community start-up grant that I applied for. The grant I never thought I was eligible for, the grant that would finally provide me with the funds to start the art gallery I’ve always dreamed of.
I cover my mouth in shock. I read the email over and over, trying to make sense of it all. Making certain that I’ve not made a mistake.
