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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Love stories / Romance
- Subject: Death / Heartbreak / Loss
- Published: 04/28/2014
''The Reluctant Dreamer''
Born 1957, M, from Belfast, United Kingdom‘’The Reluctant Dreamer’’
A short Story by Will Neill
Stepping off the plane was the hardest thing; I had the sense of mind to call Josef to meet me in the airports arrivals when I had finally plucked up the courage to leave Ireland. The reason being I wasn’t sure if I could manage the drive up to the villa. He tried to coax me into the contrary of course, but I had to insist he came. Even though I knew he hated making his way through town and it meant getting the car out of storage. He muttered something in broken English over the phone about how ‘’It may not even start! Senor Robert, it’s been two years since you were here last.’’ He finished off by letting loose a curse word or two in Catalan, forgetting briefly I could speak the lingo.
‘’va a estar bien Josef’’ I reassured him.
‘’Okay, okay!’’ he reluctantly agreed ‘’I try, I try-okay! call when you are coming''. The phone clicked off but I could see in my minds eye his face making out like he’d sucked a sour lemon. He hated his routine being disrupted, not that it should be much of a monotonous chore to him, I must add, his sole job was nothing more than to look after the house and grounds, keep the pool clean, and you would think keep the car running. That’s what I paid him for after all, hardly stressful, but he is a seventy year old cranky Spaniard. I asserted I had no interest in getting a taxi and reminded him the local bus service was less than reliable.
Faith had found Cadaques by accident while looking for a quiet holiday break to celebrate our twentieth wedding anniversary. It was during one of her working lunches with her friend Judy who had shown her some photographs of her recent trip there. Faith fell in love instantly with the small fishing town once only accessible by sea. She was taken with the fact that, according to Judy, it had been a favourite of Picasso and Salvador Dali. ''I've found us the perfect location'' she gushed over dinner that evening.
I took a sip of my chianti and leaned back into my seat, I knew she couldn’t contain herself until we had finished our meal. When Faith got excited about a trip or a wedding, for example, she was like a bubbly little school girl. So it was better to let her get it out.
''Judy showed me this wonderful little village called Cadaques, it sits on the far North-East of Spain, in Catalonia. It's right on the edge of the Cap de Creus Peninsula, where the Pyrenees mountains meet the sea, just south of the French border'' She said and came round from her seat to let me see some of the pictures she had borrowed.
''Looks nice'' I said ''Have you a date in mind?''
''Our Anniversary is the 10th of March, that’s a Saturday'' I smiled to myself as she counted quietly on her fingers, her stunning blue eyes flickered in the candle light. then said ''eight weeks from today.''
''Okay lets get it arranged'' I replied ''Now, can we finish dinner?''
She laughed out loud and I watched lovingly as she danced her way back to her chair, ''What?'' she said when she caught me staring, momentarily blushing, the redness of her cheeks blended into the crimson shine off her wine glass. ''Oh nothing'' I smiled back.
''I hate it when you do that Bobby'' she laughed throwing a piece of cold carrot off her plate in my direction. I managed just to duck sidewards allowing it to pass over my shoulder.
''Do what? tell me?-'' I replied fawning an expression.
''That nothing thing you do, the way you tilt your head to the left and smile - your face is saying something, what is it?''
''Promise me you won't laugh'' I answered.
She ran the tip of her tongue across her teeth and dropped her eyes seductively at me while at the same time tucking her strawberry blond hair behind her ear, she looked beautiful in the semi darkness of the candle light.
I felt captivated by her devilish smile, it reminded me of the first time we met all those years ago. That age old cliché happened, our eyes met across a crowded party room. Just a fleeting look but she did that very same thing, I was lost to her then just as now.
''Just tell me, I promise I won't laugh'' She closed her eyes and made a cross her heart sign with her finger.
''There, its official - hope to die, now tell me!''
''Okay, Okay!'' I said and put my wine down, ''Give me your hand Faith'' I asked her. I could see her breathing slowing and almost hear her heart beat as she reached across. The warmth of her fingers felt the same as the smooth Chianti wine we were both enjoying, I rolled her wedding band with my thumb and finger remembering the day I slipped it on and spoke as softly as I dared. ''I love you Faith'' was all I said, I knew it was enough. Faith's eyes widened and I watched her pause briefly before she responded.
''I love you too Bobby Brewster'' she whispered back ''Now what do you say I get this vacation planned.'' We clinked our glasses together and laughed in agreement.
The next day Faith buzzed around the house in a flurry of excitement, gossiping to Judy on the phone and talking dates to the travel company representative. After about three hours she had finally tied down our travel arrangements. ''You'll never guess Bobby'' she shrieked, as she rushed into my study looking more excited than I have ever seen her before. I was just finishing a call with my financial advisor about selling some stocks and shares when she practically tore the phone from my hand and put it back on the receiver. I tried to be emphatic but she just brushed me off with a hand wave, ''Oh don't be so boring Bobby, what ever it was you were doing can wait.''
''Okay'' I relented ''Tell me your news, Faith, it had better be good mind you, I do have a construction company to run.''
''Two things'' she said smiling, ''Firstly we leave for the Costa Brava on Saturday the 3rd of March, so we will have a whole week before our anniversary, and the second is I've rented out the villa once owned by Picasso, what do you think of that!?''
''I'm Very impressed'' I replied. ''You have certainly pulled out all the stops Faith, well done.''
''Why thank you kind sir'' She replied with a mock curtsey. ''I try my very best, oh and by the way Bobby, have you seen my dairy? I need to write this all down.''
I pointed to a leather bound book she had been carrying in her left hand. ''Do you mean that one?'' Faith looked at me awkwardly for a moment, then she rolled her eyes and gave me a dry smile.
''Oh my of course it is! What a silly girl I am, I must have just got caught up in all the excitement, I'll leave you be.''
She left the room quietly and I returned to my work, but yet that afternoon I couldn’t help thinking that lately she had been quite unretentive, small things like misplaced keys, forgetting phone numbers of her friends she had always known, and getting frustrated over making small decisions. But I eventually dismissed my thoughts as being stupid and silly unfounded worries.
March came around quickly and kicked off spring. It wasn’t long before we were packing for our vacation. Faith had been busy weeks before adding to her wardrobe, searching everywhere for that causal yet film star look that would befit the abode of a famous dead painter. Only in case we invited over the neighbours for dinner of course. She was unrelenting in her enthusiasm about the trip and was looking forward to our two weeks in Caduques. She was right of course, it was everything she expected it to be. Girona airport is only 85 kilometres from the village. After a short taxi ride we arrived at 6pm. Josef was already there to greet us, his demeanour even then was less than hospitable. Faith and I spent the next phrenetic thirty minutes trying to digest his broken English rules of do's and don'ts concerning the Villa. But we got the gist so to speak of all that we should know. Only when I thanked him in his native tongue ''gràcies vostè és tan amable'' did he pay us any attention.
We settled in quickly, the spacious lounge boasted two rustic couches either side of a floor to ceiling ornate grey stone fireplace. Two black iron chandeliers hung from the polished teak wooden roof beams, a majestic stags head adorned the wall above the double walk through glass doors out onto the vast verandah. Bronze Candelabra, bespoke scatter cushions and Catalan floor rugs complemented to the Villa's Spanish influence. That evening the view of the harbour softly illuminated against the moonlit sea was astounding. We stood on the porch fondly embracing each other, unaware that things were about to change. Faith was the happiest I had ever seen her in all of our twenty years marriage. We spent the mornings walking on the golden beaches and the afternoons lazing by our villa pool soaking up the 'wild coast' sunshine. In the evenings we dined in traditional Catalan restaurants and drank in back street tapas bars. On our anniversary evening we decided that we would renew our vows on our 25th year.
A few sunsets later we were home.
During the plane ride back I noticed that Faith was quieter than her usual self so I asked her if she was felling Okay. She smiled at me and squeezed my hand, ''I'm fine'' she said, ''It's just a headache and I miss the Villa, our time there was magical Bobby. I just wish we could live there forever.''
''I've got to work Faith'' I replied.
''I know, but wouldn’t it be wonderful.'' I felt my shoulders drop as I watched her sad eyes turn to the planes window. ''Do you remember that place we found just along the beach below the Villa, Faith?'' I asked her. ''That little cave cut into the side of the hill with the two rocks shaped like lovers seats.'' She nodded yes with an inquisitive frown ''At the bottom of the toe path''.
''That was the day it rained, We sat for a whole hour just talking, watching the waves and kissing like teenagers'' she sighed. ''It was heaven.''
''Well I was hoping to keep this a secret until I was sure it would happen, but-!'' I paused and Faith screwed up her face. ''The next day when you were at the village market I kinda strolled down there again and I-''
''What are you trying to tell me Bobby, you know I hate secrets'' she interrupted.
''As it turns out it's also a favourite place to sit by the owner of the villa, he was there enjoying the peace and quiet when I came along. We talked and Mr Santos, who is a really nice man, sort of, - I mean-, agreed to sell me the Villa.'' I forced a smile and waited for her reaction. Faith's eyes widened and I believe for a full five minutes she couldn’t breathe.
''Is this for real?'' she eventually said.
''Once the papers are signed it's ours'' I nodded. Faith began to cry, she placed her hand across her mouth and shook her head in disbelief, ''I knew you loved the Villa, so did I, - I think it was kismet the way things happened. I love you sweetheart.'' Faith leaned across her seat and gave me the tightest hug I could ever remember. ''I love you too Bobby Brewster'' she whispered into my ear. ''Always and forever.''
Life never was the same after that, for the next two years we spent as much time in Caduques as we could, and it seemed that Josef came along with the deal. When we couldn’t be there he would look after the house just as he had done for Mr Santos, ''parte del mobiliario'' he joked the day he handed me the keys pointing to the leathery old man with the white beard, who was brushing the drive.''
It was the summer of our third year there that I began to worry about Faith, although she would insist there was nothing wrong, something just kept niggling at me. During dinner and when we sat in the small cave on the beach I noticed that sometimes she was struggling to make small talk. And when I would joke about recalling good times past, she would just smile half heartily and look blankly back at me. It was on a quiet Sunday afternoon that I finally discovered what was happening. Faith had gone to lie down after complaining she had another headache. It was while she was sleeping that I noticed she had left her dairy on the verandah coffee table. It had the same leather back binding cover over it on that day she came into my study. As I lifted it out of the afternoon sun the contents fell onto the grey stone tiles. Pages flicked by rapidly in the light breeze, each one passing only added to the shock I was seeing. On page after page she had written in bold black ink- ''His name is Bobby and he's my husband'' over and over the same. On others she had scrawled her own name repeatedly, phone numbers, places we had been, things to say. A catalog of memories, a volcano of emotions erupting on a page. Suddenly all those awkward moments made sense, all those trips to the bathroom when we were out, everything fell into place. Her dairy was her only link, her only way of remembering all that she was, all that we were, was written in this book.
I wanted to wake her, I wanted to shake her, hold her and tell her I loved her and promise I would make her better. Instead I fell onto the sun lounger clasping her book to my breast and giving into a fissure of brackish tears and an overwhelming feeling of insecurity. Do I tell Faith I know her secret and watch her fall to pieces, or do I say nothing and let nature take it's course. I waited and cried unsure of what to do. The signs of dementia were obvious, how did I not see them before? She had hid them well. I dried my eye's with the cuff of my shirt, the tears left a dark stain, Faith would have been mad at me if she saw what I had just done. But I gave a nervous laugh, ''She cannot even remember my name for Christ's sake!'' I shouted, then I threw the book at the wall with rage.
It was only then I saw her standing in the doorway, she was wearing her white satin camisole, it accentuated the curves of her body, around her shoulders a white cotton dressing gown lay open flapping lightly in the afternoon air, exposing her tanned upper thighs. Her honey blond hair was tossed from an hour of sleeping. She smiled at me briefly, and I returned the gesture. I looked at her and thought, how could this be, she looks no different, she was still my beautiful Faith, yet I knew inside she had changed and I wondered just how much of the real Faith was still alive. I lifted the book without saying a word. The look on her face when she saw it is something I will never forget. ''You know'' was all she said. I nodded and mouthed a silent 'yes'. Quietly she turned and went back inside.
That night we lay in each others arms and talked and cried until sunrise, I promised her we would get the best doctors that money could buy, but she had already been to see them secretly the year before. There was no cure they told her and it was spreading fast. ''Why didn’t you tell me, we could have done this together'' I asked her.
''I didn’t what to ruin the magic'' was all she said.
We left for home that same day and in the months that followed Faith deteriorated rapidly. The woman I knew and had loved was lost forever to the horrible disease. At the end I couldn’t cope and reluctantly agreed to put her into care. It was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. Many times I went to visit, but my Faith was gone. I couldn’t bear to watch her sit there just staring at me without speaking, dribbling saliva from the corner of her mouth. Gradually I stopped going. The hospital would call me each week night letting me know how she was doing until one early morning they rang. I wasn’t sleeping, I don’t much any more, I am a reluctant dreamer, they hurt too much. Faith had suffered a massive brain haemorrhage and had died peacefully in her sleep. God was good to her, thankfully, by not prolonging her agony, and mine.
Girona airport is always busy, holiday makers arriving and departing much like any other in the world. It's not hard to miss Josef, he pretty much stands out from the crowd waiting at the arrivals gate. He looks like one of the seven dwarfs, grumpy springs to mind. But at least he's here.
''Josef, Como estàs'' I greet him.
''Vell'' he replies.
Both of us say little on the journey to the Villa. We pass by the harbour on the way. Small fishing boats bob and bounce on the waves, their wooden masts and white sails pointing upwards to a clear blue sky that reflects off the crisp sea. Laughter and the buzz of water jet bikes drift across the bay. Bars and bodegas are busy with diners and drinkers enjoying the sun. Its warm rays reflecting off the whitewashed stone houses that surround the village. Faith was right, this is heaven, she loved this place. And that is why I have brought her back. I look down to the small silver urn sitting beside me on the car seat and cup it with my hand. To hold it safe. ''Welcome home sweetheart'' I whisper.
''To the Villa senor Bob?'' Josef asks me looking in his rear view mirror.
''Not yet Josef'' I reply, ''My wife and I have a date on the beach, drop us off at the toe path, you know where I mean, just above the cave, is that Okay?''
''Si Senor Bob'' he replies, but I see a look of dubiety on his face.'' "però por què '' he asks me bemused.
''It's our twenty fifth wedding anniversary Josef, and we are going to renew our vows.''
The end.
Will Neill 2014
Copyright of Award winning author Will Neill. No unauthorized use permitted
''The Reluctant Dreamer''(Will Neill)
‘’The Reluctant Dreamer’’
A short Story by Will Neill
Stepping off the plane was the hardest thing; I had the sense of mind to call Josef to meet me in the airports arrivals when I had finally plucked up the courage to leave Ireland. The reason being I wasn’t sure if I could manage the drive up to the villa. He tried to coax me into the contrary of course, but I had to insist he came. Even though I knew he hated making his way through town and it meant getting the car out of storage. He muttered something in broken English over the phone about how ‘’It may not even start! Senor Robert, it’s been two years since you were here last.’’ He finished off by letting loose a curse word or two in Catalan, forgetting briefly I could speak the lingo.
‘’va a estar bien Josef’’ I reassured him.
‘’Okay, okay!’’ he reluctantly agreed ‘’I try, I try-okay! call when you are coming''. The phone clicked off but I could see in my minds eye his face making out like he’d sucked a sour lemon. He hated his routine being disrupted, not that it should be much of a monotonous chore to him, I must add, his sole job was nothing more than to look after the house and grounds, keep the pool clean, and you would think keep the car running. That’s what I paid him for after all, hardly stressful, but he is a seventy year old cranky Spaniard. I asserted I had no interest in getting a taxi and reminded him the local bus service was less than reliable.
Faith had found Cadaques by accident while looking for a quiet holiday break to celebrate our twentieth wedding anniversary. It was during one of her working lunches with her friend Judy who had shown her some photographs of her recent trip there. Faith fell in love instantly with the small fishing town once only accessible by sea. She was taken with the fact that, according to Judy, it had been a favourite of Picasso and Salvador Dali. ''I've found us the perfect location'' she gushed over dinner that evening.
I took a sip of my chianti and leaned back into my seat, I knew she couldn’t contain herself until we had finished our meal. When Faith got excited about a trip or a wedding, for example, she was like a bubbly little school girl. So it was better to let her get it out.
''Judy showed me this wonderful little village called Cadaques, it sits on the far North-East of Spain, in Catalonia. It's right on the edge of the Cap de Creus Peninsula, where the Pyrenees mountains meet the sea, just south of the French border'' She said and came round from her seat to let me see some of the pictures she had borrowed.
''Looks nice'' I said ''Have you a date in mind?''
''Our Anniversary is the 10th of March, that’s a Saturday'' I smiled to myself as she counted quietly on her fingers, her stunning blue eyes flickered in the candle light. then said ''eight weeks from today.''
''Okay lets get it arranged'' I replied ''Now, can we finish dinner?''
She laughed out loud and I watched lovingly as she danced her way back to her chair, ''What?'' she said when she caught me staring, momentarily blushing, the redness of her cheeks blended into the crimson shine off her wine glass. ''Oh nothing'' I smiled back.
''I hate it when you do that Bobby'' she laughed throwing a piece of cold carrot off her plate in my direction. I managed just to duck sidewards allowing it to pass over my shoulder.
''Do what? tell me?-'' I replied fawning an expression.
''That nothing thing you do, the way you tilt your head to the left and smile - your face is saying something, what is it?''
''Promise me you won't laugh'' I answered.
She ran the tip of her tongue across her teeth and dropped her eyes seductively at me while at the same time tucking her strawberry blond hair behind her ear, she looked beautiful in the semi darkness of the candle light.
I felt captivated by her devilish smile, it reminded me of the first time we met all those years ago. That age old cliché happened, our eyes met across a crowded party room. Just a fleeting look but she did that very same thing, I was lost to her then just as now.
''Just tell me, I promise I won't laugh'' She closed her eyes and made a cross her heart sign with her finger.
''There, its official - hope to die, now tell me!''
''Okay, Okay!'' I said and put my wine down, ''Give me your hand Faith'' I asked her. I could see her breathing slowing and almost hear her heart beat as she reached across. The warmth of her fingers felt the same as the smooth Chianti wine we were both enjoying, I rolled her wedding band with my thumb and finger remembering the day I slipped it on and spoke as softly as I dared. ''I love you Faith'' was all I said, I knew it was enough. Faith's eyes widened and I watched her pause briefly before she responded.
''I love you too Bobby Brewster'' she whispered back ''Now what do you say I get this vacation planned.'' We clinked our glasses together and laughed in agreement.
The next day Faith buzzed around the house in a flurry of excitement, gossiping to Judy on the phone and talking dates to the travel company representative. After about three hours she had finally tied down our travel arrangements. ''You'll never guess Bobby'' she shrieked, as she rushed into my study looking more excited than I have ever seen her before. I was just finishing a call with my financial advisor about selling some stocks and shares when she practically tore the phone from my hand and put it back on the receiver. I tried to be emphatic but she just brushed me off with a hand wave, ''Oh don't be so boring Bobby, what ever it was you were doing can wait.''
''Okay'' I relented ''Tell me your news, Faith, it had better be good mind you, I do have a construction company to run.''
''Two things'' she said smiling, ''Firstly we leave for the Costa Brava on Saturday the 3rd of March, so we will have a whole week before our anniversary, and the second is I've rented out the villa once owned by Picasso, what do you think of that!?''
''I'm Very impressed'' I replied. ''You have certainly pulled out all the stops Faith, well done.''
''Why thank you kind sir'' She replied with a mock curtsey. ''I try my very best, oh and by the way Bobby, have you seen my dairy? I need to write this all down.''
I pointed to a leather bound book she had been carrying in her left hand. ''Do you mean that one?'' Faith looked at me awkwardly for a moment, then she rolled her eyes and gave me a dry smile.
''Oh my of course it is! What a silly girl I am, I must have just got caught up in all the excitement, I'll leave you be.''
She left the room quietly and I returned to my work, but yet that afternoon I couldn’t help thinking that lately she had been quite unretentive, small things like misplaced keys, forgetting phone numbers of her friends she had always known, and getting frustrated over making small decisions. But I eventually dismissed my thoughts as being stupid and silly unfounded worries.
March came around quickly and kicked off spring. It wasn’t long before we were packing for our vacation. Faith had been busy weeks before adding to her wardrobe, searching everywhere for that causal yet film star look that would befit the abode of a famous dead painter. Only in case we invited over the neighbours for dinner of course. She was unrelenting in her enthusiasm about the trip and was looking forward to our two weeks in Caduques. She was right of course, it was everything she expected it to be. Girona airport is only 85 kilometres from the village. After a short taxi ride we arrived at 6pm. Josef was already there to greet us, his demeanour even then was less than hospitable. Faith and I spent the next phrenetic thirty minutes trying to digest his broken English rules of do's and don'ts concerning the Villa. But we got the gist so to speak of all that we should know. Only when I thanked him in his native tongue ''gràcies vostè és tan amable'' did he pay us any attention.
We settled in quickly, the spacious lounge boasted two rustic couches either side of a floor to ceiling ornate grey stone fireplace. Two black iron chandeliers hung from the polished teak wooden roof beams, a majestic stags head adorned the wall above the double walk through glass doors out onto the vast verandah. Bronze Candelabra, bespoke scatter cushions and Catalan floor rugs complemented to the Villa's Spanish influence. That evening the view of the harbour softly illuminated against the moonlit sea was astounding. We stood on the porch fondly embracing each other, unaware that things were about to change. Faith was the happiest I had ever seen her in all of our twenty years marriage. We spent the mornings walking on the golden beaches and the afternoons lazing by our villa pool soaking up the 'wild coast' sunshine. In the evenings we dined in traditional Catalan restaurants and drank in back street tapas bars. On our anniversary evening we decided that we would renew our vows on our 25th year.
A few sunsets later we were home.
During the plane ride back I noticed that Faith was quieter than her usual self so I asked her if she was felling Okay. She smiled at me and squeezed my hand, ''I'm fine'' she said, ''It's just a headache and I miss the Villa, our time there was magical Bobby. I just wish we could live there forever.''
''I've got to work Faith'' I replied.
''I know, but wouldn’t it be wonderful.'' I felt my shoulders drop as I watched her sad eyes turn to the planes window. ''Do you remember that place we found just along the beach below the Villa, Faith?'' I asked her. ''That little cave cut into the side of the hill with the two rocks shaped like lovers seats.'' She nodded yes with an inquisitive frown ''At the bottom of the toe path''.
''That was the day it rained, We sat for a whole hour just talking, watching the waves and kissing like teenagers'' she sighed. ''It was heaven.''
''Well I was hoping to keep this a secret until I was sure it would happen, but-!'' I paused and Faith screwed up her face. ''The next day when you were at the village market I kinda strolled down there again and I-''
''What are you trying to tell me Bobby, you know I hate secrets'' she interrupted.
''As it turns out it's also a favourite place to sit by the owner of the villa, he was there enjoying the peace and quiet when I came along. We talked and Mr Santos, who is a really nice man, sort of, - I mean-, agreed to sell me the Villa.'' I forced a smile and waited for her reaction. Faith's eyes widened and I believe for a full five minutes she couldn’t breathe.
''Is this for real?'' she eventually said.
''Once the papers are signed it's ours'' I nodded. Faith began to cry, she placed her hand across her mouth and shook her head in disbelief, ''I knew you loved the Villa, so did I, - I think it was kismet the way things happened. I love you sweetheart.'' Faith leaned across her seat and gave me the tightest hug I could ever remember. ''I love you too Bobby Brewster'' she whispered into my ear. ''Always and forever.''
Life never was the same after that, for the next two years we spent as much time in Caduques as we could, and it seemed that Josef came along with the deal. When we couldn’t be there he would look after the house just as he had done for Mr Santos, ''parte del mobiliario'' he joked the day he handed me the keys pointing to the leathery old man with the white beard, who was brushing the drive.''
It was the summer of our third year there that I began to worry about Faith, although she would insist there was nothing wrong, something just kept niggling at me. During dinner and when we sat in the small cave on the beach I noticed that sometimes she was struggling to make small talk. And when I would joke about recalling good times past, she would just smile half heartily and look blankly back at me. It was on a quiet Sunday afternoon that I finally discovered what was happening. Faith had gone to lie down after complaining she had another headache. It was while she was sleeping that I noticed she had left her dairy on the verandah coffee table. It had the same leather back binding cover over it on that day she came into my study. As I lifted it out of the afternoon sun the contents fell onto the grey stone tiles. Pages flicked by rapidly in the light breeze, each one passing only added to the shock I was seeing. On page after page she had written in bold black ink- ''His name is Bobby and he's my husband'' over and over the same. On others she had scrawled her own name repeatedly, phone numbers, places we had been, things to say. A catalog of memories, a volcano of emotions erupting on a page. Suddenly all those awkward moments made sense, all those trips to the bathroom when we were out, everything fell into place. Her dairy was her only link, her only way of remembering all that she was, all that we were, was written in this book.
I wanted to wake her, I wanted to shake her, hold her and tell her I loved her and promise I would make her better. Instead I fell onto the sun lounger clasping her book to my breast and giving into a fissure of brackish tears and an overwhelming feeling of insecurity. Do I tell Faith I know her secret and watch her fall to pieces, or do I say nothing and let nature take it's course. I waited and cried unsure of what to do. The signs of dementia were obvious, how did I not see them before? She had hid them well. I dried my eye's with the cuff of my shirt, the tears left a dark stain, Faith would have been mad at me if she saw what I had just done. But I gave a nervous laugh, ''She cannot even remember my name for Christ's sake!'' I shouted, then I threw the book at the wall with rage.
It was only then I saw her standing in the doorway, she was wearing her white satin camisole, it accentuated the curves of her body, around her shoulders a white cotton dressing gown lay open flapping lightly in the afternoon air, exposing her tanned upper thighs. Her honey blond hair was tossed from an hour of sleeping. She smiled at me briefly, and I returned the gesture. I looked at her and thought, how could this be, she looks no different, she was still my beautiful Faith, yet I knew inside she had changed and I wondered just how much of the real Faith was still alive. I lifted the book without saying a word. The look on her face when she saw it is something I will never forget. ''You know'' was all she said. I nodded and mouthed a silent 'yes'. Quietly she turned and went back inside.
That night we lay in each others arms and talked and cried until sunrise, I promised her we would get the best doctors that money could buy, but she had already been to see them secretly the year before. There was no cure they told her and it was spreading fast. ''Why didn’t you tell me, we could have done this together'' I asked her.
''I didn’t what to ruin the magic'' was all she said.
We left for home that same day and in the months that followed Faith deteriorated rapidly. The woman I knew and had loved was lost forever to the horrible disease. At the end I couldn’t cope and reluctantly agreed to put her into care. It was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. Many times I went to visit, but my Faith was gone. I couldn’t bear to watch her sit there just staring at me without speaking, dribbling saliva from the corner of her mouth. Gradually I stopped going. The hospital would call me each week night letting me know how she was doing until one early morning they rang. I wasn’t sleeping, I don’t much any more, I am a reluctant dreamer, they hurt too much. Faith had suffered a massive brain haemorrhage and had died peacefully in her sleep. God was good to her, thankfully, by not prolonging her agony, and mine.
Girona airport is always busy, holiday makers arriving and departing much like any other in the world. It's not hard to miss Josef, he pretty much stands out from the crowd waiting at the arrivals gate. He looks like one of the seven dwarfs, grumpy springs to mind. But at least he's here.
''Josef, Como estàs'' I greet him.
''Vell'' he replies.
Both of us say little on the journey to the Villa. We pass by the harbour on the way. Small fishing boats bob and bounce on the waves, their wooden masts and white sails pointing upwards to a clear blue sky that reflects off the crisp sea. Laughter and the buzz of water jet bikes drift across the bay. Bars and bodegas are busy with diners and drinkers enjoying the sun. Its warm rays reflecting off the whitewashed stone houses that surround the village. Faith was right, this is heaven, she loved this place. And that is why I have brought her back. I look down to the small silver urn sitting beside me on the car seat and cup it with my hand. To hold it safe. ''Welcome home sweetheart'' I whisper.
''To the Villa senor Bob?'' Josef asks me looking in his rear view mirror.
''Not yet Josef'' I reply, ''My wife and I have a date on the beach, drop us off at the toe path, you know where I mean, just above the cave, is that Okay?''
''Si Senor Bob'' he replies, but I see a look of dubiety on his face.'' "però por què '' he asks me bemused.
''It's our twenty fifth wedding anniversary Josef, and we are going to renew our vows.''
The end.
Will Neill 2014
Copyright of Award winning author Will Neill. No unauthorized use permitted
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