Through the Glass

by Lisa J. Hobman

  A few minutes later, after pulling on a T-shirt and jeans, he walked in and was greeted by a plate of chunky bacon sandwiches. Perfect. His stomach made its desire known with another loud growl. He pulled up a chair and sat.

  He cleared his throat. “Thanks for this Felicity. I don’t expect you to wait on me whilst you’re here though, you know.”

  “Hey, it’s the least I can do, Jim. Tuck in and enjoy.” She smiled taking a bite. It felt strange. Almost like they were still married and were on a mini break in a little cottage somewhere.

  She chewed thoughtfully for a while. He watched her discreetly. It was obvious something was playing on her mind. Eventually she opened her mouth to speak.

  “So…I told you about my failed relationship with Rory. What’s your story since we split?”

  Jim raised his eyebrows. “Whoa! Don’t hold back, Felicity…ask away!”

  She frowned as though she felt regretful. A twinge of guilt dug at him. He felt frustrated that she had even asked as it wasn’t really a subject he felt comfortable talking about with her. He sat silently chewing for a number of minutes, trying to figure out what to say.

  ~~~~~

  Felicity gathered the courage to look at him. Instead of the usual impassive mask, however, was a look of frustration…or confusion…some unreadable emotion. She wanted to take the question back. She was on the verge of apologising when he spoke.

  “There is someone. Well, there was,” he finally admitted. Felicity’s heart sank. “She’s not from around here. She travels around with a band. She plays the fiddle. They’ve stayed up on the campsite out back a fair few times. Mainly through the summer. Her name’s Heather. We…get along really well, but we’ve never…ahhh…you know…we’re not together as such.”

  “Oh…right.” Felicity nodded trying her best to process the new information without showing her true feelings. “Where is she from?”

  “She lives in the Borders. Near Jedburgh. It’s a fair trek really. That’s why we only see each other when she comes up with the Ceilidh band. I’ve got my work here and she spends most of her life on the road. They’ve done a few functions in the hotel along the way. The band is quite well known and very successful. They travel all over Europe in fact.”

  “Oh…gosh… What’s she like…Heather?” Felicity asked, not really sure she should ask or indeed if she truly wanted to know but too intrigued not to.

  “Ahhh, she’s quite petite, slim, long dark hair, naturally wavy. Very pretty. Blue eyes.” Jim looked almost wistful as he spoke. He drifted off into a kind of trance. Felicity wondered what he was thinking about…

  ~~~~~

  August 2011 — Two Years and Six Months After the Break-up

  “Hi, Heather. Have you guys got everything you need up there?” Jim asked the guest as she walked down from the small campsite at the back of his cottage.

  “Aye, Jim. We’re all sorted. We’re not playing until tomorrow night so we’re going to have a barbeque if you’d like to join us?” She smiled, her azure blue eyes sparkling with warmth as she spoke.

  It was a warm August evening and perfect weather for a cook out. Jim and Heather had known each other for around a year now. There was a definite spark of attraction between them but both were shy. Heather inherently so, which was surprising considering her profession, but Jim’s was an acquired shyness since his failed marriage had knocked his confidence.

  The band laughed and chatted as they stood around near the brick barbeque that Jim had installed not long after moving in to the cottage. It was the perfect addition to his little campsite. The heat from the barbeque was welcomed now it was late evening and the temperature had dropped. Jim and Heather sat drinking bottled beer on the log bench also constructed by Jim, who had acquired many hands-on skills since the move. Heather shivered audibly.

  “Hey, I heard that. Here you go.” Jim slipped of his jacket and placed it around her shoulders.

  “Thanks, Jim. You’re so sweet.” She smiled gratefully pulling the jacket around her. “Why are you not married?” The question was meant to be rhetorical but regardless of the fact, Jim opened up and explained all about Felicity and the divorce. Heather listened intently. It felt good to talk about things with someone who was removed from the situation.

  “Wow. I’m surprised that happened to you. You’re…such a nice guy. It doesn’t seem fair.” She shook her head in disbelief. Jim smiled at her comments. Why couldn’t things between him and Heather be easier…less complicated. And why couldn’t the distance be less? Eventually Jim decided to call it a night. Heather walked down to the house where the small shower block was situated.

  “Thanks for the jacket.” Heather said handing it back to him. As he took the jacket back, their fingers grazed. He took her hand and held onto it, weaving his fingers into hers.

  He sighed. “I wish you didn’t live so far away.”

  “Oh? Why’s that, Mr. MacDuff?” She cocked her head to one side giving a half smile up at him. He stroked her cheek.

  “I just…I think…never mind.” He shook his head realising there was no point elaborating. Heather placed both hands on his chest and tiptoed so that her face was just below his. He gazed down at her, lowering his head until their lips were almost touching.

  “Heather…how could this work? You live so far away and you travel so much I would never see you and—”

  She placed her hand on his lips. “Shhh, Jim. Some things are just not meant to be, no matter how much we’d like them to happen. So…just kiss me.”

  With that he lowered his lips to meet hers. Her hands slipped up around his shoulders and his found her waist. The kiss was light but wonderful and over far too soon. Heather turned and walked back toward the campsite, looking over her shoulder and smiling at him, her long chocolate brown hair floating almost in slow motion as she walked. In that moment she reminded him of Arwen, the beautiful Elf from Lord of The Rings, and his heart ached just a little knowing that she would never really be his.

  ~~~~~

  Felicity cleared her throat and then spoke to bring him back to her from wherever he had drifted off to. “You seem to really like her. Don’t you think you’ll find a way to make it work?”

  “No. It wouldn’t be fair to tie her down. She’s not a homebody like me.” He smiled as he spoke, his eyes tinged with sadness. “But I will say one thing.” He looked directly at Felicity now. “Although I know I won’t ever be with Heather, she’s given me the hope that there can be someone else.” He breathed out loudly. “When you and I split…I felt that I could never love anyone else…never let anyone else get close… Heather made me realise that I could. That it’s possible. There is hope for me yet.”

  Felicity felt her eyes sting with tears. She hated herself for making him feel he couldn’t love again. Although, hearing him speak about being with someone else cut her in a way she never prepared for. But it was always a possibility that he would have moved on. She had. Albeit temporarily.

  ~~~~~

  Jim glanced over and saw a pained look in Felicity’s eyes. He never intended his words to hurt her. He had to try and break this melancholy that had descended over them.

  “Anyway, enough of that. Look, I’ll have to work whilst you’re here and…it’s looking like you may be here a while. I cannae leave the shack closed, I’m afraid. It’s a lifeline for some of the villagers and I cannae let them down. What are you going to do whilst you’re here?”

  “Well...I have my laptop and so I could maybe do a little work…send some emails…do some research.”

  Jim laughed at this remark. “I hate to break it to you Felicity, but I’m afraid I don’t have wifi or the Internet. I’ve never gone in for all the Facebook and Twitter stuff. And I just never saw the point in tapping away at a keyboard whilst my hands are still able to hold a pen to write my letters.” He chuckled.

  “Don’t you write anymore? How do you not do that?! Writing was so important to you.” She looked gobsmacked.

&n
bsp; “Aye, I have a typewriter…and I’ve got a little word processor and a printer. They’re pretty much obsolete but I get by. They’re all I need really. No one is ever going to read my work. I only do it for enjoyment.”

  “Good grief, Jim! You’re in the dark ages.” Felicity laughed.

  “Nope. I’m in the peaceful ages.” He laughed, too. “Seriously though, what are you going to do? You’ll be bored stiff, knowing you. You don’t like the same books as me so that’s a no-no.” He pondered for a moment. “Hey I know! Why don’t you paint? You can do it the kitchen…or the lounge…I don’t mind.”

  “Oh yeah, because there just happens to be a branch of Atlantis Art Supplies up the road.” She snorted, evidently thinking his idea utterly ridiculous given their location.

  “Felicity…you’re in the Highlands now, don’t forget, artists on every street. Leave it with me.” He gulped down the rest of his coffee and grabbed his coat. “Back in a wee while.” He disappeared out of the front door before she could protest.

  ~~~~~

  Felicity stared in the direction Jim had just left in. She hadn’t painted in earnest since the debacle of the ruined canvas and Rory. She hadn’t admitted this to Jim however. Whilst she was left alone, save for the pair of big brown eyes attached the panting head resting on her knee, she thought back to the scene she had been painting that day. She could recall the colours and shapes and began to imagine reproducing it. Her excitement began to build.

  Whilst Jim was gone, she wandered around the house. She examined the books on the shelves in the lounge. It was so cosy in there with its log burner and gnarled railway sleeper mantle. The walls were painted a warm buttermilk colour complemented by the thick gold and burgundy tapestry curtains. Judging by the weather I bet these are a Godsend, she mused as she held the textured fabric between her fingers. His artwork consisted of architectural drawings of various random buildings that she had never heard of. She had to admit, however, that they made very interesting viewing. The detailing was incredible and gave a real feel of what each building must look like.

  Jasper lay upon the thick pile of the deep red rug gazing up at her. Every so often he would wag his tail expectantly, but Felicity was too busy gazing into the crackling, dancing flames and thinking back to another time, a time when she and Jim had spent Christmas in a little cottage by the sea in Lincolnshire. She was completely mesmerised by the flames and caught up in the memories that almost an hour later Jim’s entrance made her jump, snatching her back, rather cruelly, from her reverie.

  As the door opened and he stumbled in, arms full of treasures, he brought along a freezing cold breeze of air, which diffused through the ground floor quicker than she could pull her cardigan zip up.

  “Look what I got!” He sounded like the Jim she remembered from Uni. Excited and giddy. She scrambled to her feet from the squishy old gold tapestry sofa and to his side to examine the haul. His giddiness was contagious and she clapped her hands enthusiastically.

  “Good grief Jim. How many artists do you know?” Her jaw dropped as he placed the goodies on the sofa. There were canvases, brushes, acrylics, water colours, palettes, an easel, all good quality too. He clearly knew some very generous people.

  “Quite a few. Miranda Helliwell just along the road sells her art in galleries throughout the area. Max West just a little further along, and then along the other way Jilly McDougal, she’s an amateur but bought all the best stuff when she started. All very nice people, all wanted to help.”

  Felicity was lost for words. “Wow,” was all she could manage. She could feel her heart begin to pound as she thought about getting started. How well thought of he must be here. She smiled. He deserved no less.

  ~~~~~

  Jim smiled widely as he saw the flames ignite in Felicity’s eyes. He knew that look. He knew that hunger and had seen it in her a million times before. He knew she missed this, missed painting. It was a part of who she was; he had always said so. His heart swelled as he watched her, the huge grin on her face. It made him happy to know he had helped put it there.

  “Look…I have an old pair of dungarees and a T-shirt that you can borrow to wear whilst you paint. They’re scruffy as hell, but I only ever wore them for gardening or decorating. They’re yours if you want them.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Oh Jim, thank you!” She flung her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. He froze. “This means so much to me. I can’t really explain…but…it just…thank you.” She clung to him. The smell of her delicious perfume drifted into his nostrils again, clouding his judgement and mocking him for days gone by. He lifted his arms to hug her back, but instead patted her back like he would an old friend.

  “Aye well, get set up whenever you’re ready.” He released himself from her grip. “I’ll be off next door. Lots to do.” He smiled awkwardly and left her to begin.

  Chapter 10

  The coffee shack had begun as just that, a place to grab a coffee to go, popular with tourists passing through but over the last year it had expanded and become the village store when the actual village store closed due to the owner’s ill health. Jim stocked all the essentials needed for such a situation as the current weather. He stood outside looking out over the snow-covered street. It was strange how the thick blanket had dulled every sound, making it audibly quieter. It didn’t feel quite as cold now. The snow had not only insulated sound but had acted as a duvet to the loch-side village too, although it wasn’t warm enough for the snow to melt away. Not yet.

  He opened the shack and switched the heat on full. A steady stream of customers filed in through the doors during the morning. During a lull, Jim stood rubbing his hands together in front of the heater. The radio played in the background. He stopped moving as the lyrics of Distance by Christina Perri Featuring Jason Mraz floated around the small space. He stood, eyes closed, and absorbed the poetry for a few minutes, feeling a lump form in his throat. Distance from Felicity was something he had both enjoyed and endured in recent years, but that had all changed now.

  Jilly McDougal breezed into the shack with a pink nose, forcing Jim to swallow the lump and put on his customer-friendly mask. “Hi, Jim. Please tell me you have some kindling left.” The friendly middle-aged woman pouted at him.

  “Hi, Jilly. You’re in luck. I only have a couple of bags left. Everyone must be making the most of their open fires in this weather and I haven’t had a chance to stock up since the weather turned.” He lifted up a net bag and passed it over to her.

  “No wonder! And my fire at home is a true Godsend in this weather. It’s blowing a draft under every door in my house. Oh, by the way, did your lady friend like her art supplies?”

  “Aye, she did, Jilly. Thanks ever so much for your help with that.” Jim felt his cheeks warm at her choice of words. Lady friend.

  “Oh good. If it puts a smile on that handsome face of yours, I’m all for it.” Jilly blushed a little. “Bye, Jim.”

  “Bye, Jilly. Thanks again.”

  Once she had gone, he quickly checked on his stock levels. They were getting lower by every hour he was open. Switching the coffee machine on, he quickly counted the number of packs of powdered milk, candles, matches, and bags of kindling he had left. There was nothing he could do about it. There was no way out of, or into, the village at the moment. Luckily the villagers all rallied around a neighbour in need.

  Felicity walked in, Jasper following behind. Jim was surprised she wasn’t inside the cosy cottage starting a master piece.

  “Hi…what are you doing out?” he asked as he wiped the coffee machine down in readiness. He noticed she was wearing one of his thicker coats. She was buried inside it as it if were eating her alive. He smirked a little.

  “What’s so funny?”

  He didn’t answer.

  She shook her head and continued. “I thought Jasper and I could go for a walk. It looked so pretty out. I’ll start my painting later. Wow…nice little shop. I had no idea you had diversified. I thought it was just
coffee and tea.”

  “Na. It evolved. The villagers needed it and so I obliged.” He poured her a coffee to go.

  “Ooh, thanks.” She wrapped her hands around the paper cup and its corrugated cardboard insulator sleeve. “I borrowed a pair of Wellington boots and a few pairs of socks. I hope that’s okay?”

  He looked down at her giant man feet and couldn’t help but laugh. She looked at her feet too and blushed her famous cerise pink, giggling. He thought she looked absolutely adorable. She sipped the steaming coffee carefully. “You really seem settled here, Jim. It’s obvious you care a lot about this place…and its people.”

  “Aye. It’s all I ever wanted. To be myself and to be relaxed in my surroundings.” He spoke without turning to look at her. He baulked as the words left his lips feeling immediately guilty for the dig about their past. He hoped she hadn’t noticed.

  “You never liked London, did you, Jim?” she asked in a small voice.

  Dammit, she noticed.

  “I don’t think I need answer that, do you?” He turned to her now, making his eyes stern.

  “No…no need at all. Look, I’ll see you later.” She smiled sadly and set out, calling Jasper to her side. Jim felt a sinking in his stomach. He really would have to try and be less abrasive with her.

  ~~~~~

  The snow crunched beneath the Wellington boots which felt like ships on Felicity’s feet. Jasper cavorted in the snow like a pup, his stubby legs disappearing with every touchdown and his tail wagging frantically. The sky was a bright cornflower blue but the hue was deceptive, a direct opposition, in fact, to the icy temperature making Felicity’s breath into clouds of humidity.

  Although the cold made her lungs sting, she couldn’t help but breathe deep. The air may have been icy but it was fresh. There wasn’t a hint of smoke or engine fumes to fill the spaces where fresh, crisp air belonged. Happiness washed over her as she watched children playing at the opposite side of the road. Their snowman was dressed in all of their parents’ finery, and Felicity wondered how much of it had been taken without permission.