Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
As another few days passed, Clara couldn’t stop worrying about Tom since he still wasn’t responding to messages.
He’d said he had a migraine when he left a few days earlier and now she started to worry that something had worsened.
There was no end to the thoughts she was having.
While Eleanora might have managed to quash Clara’s concerns that the poor man had been robbed and left for dead, she now began to focus on the migraine.
What if it hadn’t been that at all and had been the start of something more sinister?
What if he was unconscious somewhere? Surely someone from the choir would have mentioned something if he was in hospital.
The people around the chapel were close and would always help each other in times of need.
When Erik, the previous tenor of the amateur choir, was admitted for his heart bypass the whole congregation had clubbed together to get him a fruit basket and a new pair of pyjamas.
Word would have surely got around by now and a collection started if anything had happened to Tom.
Clara picked up the phone and dialled Tom’s number but was greeted with his voicemail.
‘Hi, it’s Tom. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you shortly.’
She was pleased to hear his chirpy voice again but it didn’t help the fact that she desperately wanted to speak to him.
It was only morning and Tom could be known for having a lie-in, so Clara persuaded herself that it was early and didn’t bother leaving a message. She would try him again a little later.
She tried to concentrate on preparing the following week’s sermon to take her mind off things, but every time she wrote about God’s love and making sacrifices, she thought again of Tom.
Should you sacrifice anything for love? That was what she would talk about next Sunday.
It was always difficult trying to match a sermon to something current, but she felt this would be perfect, although this one might be more for her than the congregation.
At 2 p.m. she called Tom again. She was delighted when it rang and didn’t go straight to voicemail. She expected a sleepy Tom to answer but it rang on for so long that it went on to voicemail again. Surely, having seen a missed call, he’d call her back, she thought.
With it no longer being term time, Evensong had been replaced with Evening Prayer and although the choir wouldn’t be there tonight, Clara was sure Tom would be there to pray.
He had never missed a Wednesday prayer meeting.
As the congregation streamed in, she felt hopeful that she would see the man she had become so fond of.
She noticed Janet who was unmissable in her bright red cardigan, and Brian who walked in with a stick following his recent fall.
Margaret waved at Clara as she came in but there was still no sign of Tom.
Clara said prayers, the congregation sang, she read the required psalms and readings and Roy played the organ that had now been fixed, but all the while she wondered what had happened to Tom.
At the end of the evening, Clara approached Darren, one of Tom’s fellow choristers who was perhaps the closest to him.
She wondered if he had heard anything. If Tom didn’t want to speak to Clara, surely he would have told someone else that he wasn’t going to be here tonight?
What if Clara was the reason he was staying away? She was starting to take it personally.
She quickly cornered Darren.
‘Have you heard from Tom at all?’ Clara tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, even though she was finding it difficult.
‘No, funny you should ask. I don’t think he replied to my text a few days ago.’ Darren pulled his phone out and checked his messages.
‘Ah, no. You see. I asked him if he fancied going for a meal with some of us. We were planning on going to that new Indian restaurant that’s opened. I didn’t want to leave him out, but he didn’t bother answering.’
Clara didn’t know whether to be relieved or more worried than ever.
Whilst she was glad to hear it wasn’t just her he was avoiding, she had that persistent worry that something bad had happened.
She blamed herself for not having done something sooner.
Who didn’t check when someone had been missing for days?
If it had been one of the older congregation members, she’d have been around to their homes, checking up on them.
Just because Tom was fit and healthy didn’t mean something couldn’t happen to him.
‘So, he didn’t respond at all?’
‘No. He left the message on read and so I assume he didn’t want to join us.’
The more she thought about it, she realised Darren was right. He was reading the messages, he simply wouldn’t reply.
He might not be interested in getting in touch with anyone but Clara was not going to be ghosted by a man.
She was determined to get to the bottom of it.
If he didn’t want to see her anymore, or be part of the church, then the least he could do was be an adult and admit it.
Her concern was starting to turn to annoyance.
‘Clara, can I have a word?’ said Lawrence, interrupting Clara and Darren’s conversation.
‘Yes, of course. Excuse me, Darren.’
She cursed the bad timing of Lawrence’s request. She had wanted to question Darren further.
‘I wondered if you’d be able to drop in and see Susan at some point. She wanted a word about next year’s fundraising. She has some ideas that she’s been thinking about after the tea,’ said Lawrence.
She wasn’t sure what the urgency was; there was plenty of time for that. Besides, if she got the job in Cambridge by then, the fundraising would be another person’s responsibility.
‘Of course. I’ll give her a call first thing tomorrow.’
‘Great. You’re a superstar. What would we do without you?
’ Clara wasn’t sure if it was due to her guilt for applying for another job, but she felt Lawrence was acting more complimentary than usual.
He was actually being rather nice, rather than the usual curt thank you when she had helped someone out.
She wondered what had come over him when their relationship tended to be more professional and functional, rather than warm and commendatory.
By the time Lawrence finished talking, there was no sign of Darren.
She figured that he didn’t seem to know much anyhow, so the moment she got home, Clara messaged Tom one last time.
She was far from a pushover, but now she was getting frustrated; torn that maybe he was in some sort of trouble or that she had been well and truly ghosted, and he wasn’t getting away with that.
She wanted to get to the bottom of it, once and for all.
Clara tried to write the message a few times before she finally said what she wanted.
The days of being polite were over. She needed to get straight to the point.
Tom. Everyone’s worried about you. If you have a problem with me, or someone else, then tell me. I won’t have you ignore me like this. I deserve more than that.
There was still so much to say but that was a start.
If he ever came back to her with his reason for being so elusive, then she would have further words with him.
She pressed send and waited for some kind of response.
The message went straight through, to her relief, and now it was up to him to reply.
Clara tackled her washing, cleaned the kitchen floor and had the quartz kitchen tops sparkling as she fretted about the place, waiting.
Every now and then she would check her phone again, in case she had missed any messages.
Frustratingly, there was nothing and only the screensaver of Eleanora and Clara at the Oxford Shakespeare Festival, last summer, stared back.
Clara remembered what a wonderful evening they’d had at Oxford Castle and Prison as they watched Twelfth Night while the sun went down around them.
This year, she’d secretly hoped she could take Tom for the forthcoming open-air performance of Romeo and Juliet.
How romantic it would have been. Now she didn’t even know that she would ever see him again, let alone have a romantic night under the stars.
She was ready for bed and about to put her pyjamas on when her phone finally bleeped.
In her rush to get to the phone she fell over the corner of her rug, almost hitting her head on the side of the table.
She was so pleased when she saw Tom’s name flash up on the screen, but any relief was not to last for long.
Clara. I’m sorry. I’m not a good person. C U in the next life xx
In alarm, she dropped her phone, quickly picking it up to dial Tom back immediately. When it went straight to voicemail, she ran for her car keys. She had built up various catastrophic scenarios in her head, but suicide wasn’t one of them.