Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Clara couldn’t wipe the smile off her face when she woke up the following morning.
She had sunk into the deepest sleep after coming home smelling of Tom’s masculine patchouli and sandalwood aftershave.
She was so well rested and in such a good mood, that she decided she would use her expensive ground coffee today.
Sleepily, she opened her wardrobe and removed her dressing gown, pushing the identical brand-new one beside it out of the way.
Eleanora always told her off for buying two of the same dressing gowns, cardigans or shoes, but when Clara found something comfortable, she wanted it to last forever.
She knew it was the right decision as she wrapped her fluffy dressing gown around her and popped on the percolator. How she loved her home comforts.
* * *
Meanwhile, at Tom’s maisonette, he was in no rush to get up.
He couldn’t get Clara out of his head. It was as though she had cast a spell on him.
He pictured her tossing her hair back as she laughed on the punt at his lame jokes.
He thought about how she was such a conversationalist. He loved how she was one of those people who could talk about practically anything.
He had adored how their conversation had gone from a debate on whether pineapple belonged on pizza – she believed it did, much to his disagreement – to discussing the portrayal of the gods in The Iliad.
He had never met anyone like her before.
He wished he felt truly worthy of the love of someone as wonderful as Clara.
He recalled his conversation with Pat who told him to move on and forgive himself.
If only it was that easy. His life was at rock bottom by the time his wife had left and his son disowned him.
What if Clara disowned him too? He couldn’t bear such heartbreak again.
He was torn. How he wanted to love Clara with all his might, but if he didn’t love himself because of what he had done, how could he possibly ask someone else to love him?
Tom needed a coffee. He needed caffeine to get his head straight.
It was time to get up out of bed before he went insane with all his thoughts.
Then, he pulled himself together and sent Clara a good morning text, thanking her for yet another lovely afternoon.
* * *
As Clara’s percolator bubbled away at the rectory, she tried to focus on her busy day ahead and booted up her laptop.
Clara often liked to scan through her emails before she started work so that she knew what the day ahead might have in store.
She liked it when she had a sermon to prepare, as she could do it from home and didn’t have to head into the office until later.
She hoped there weren’t too many emails to respond to so that she could crack on.
She was still unsure how she could link this week’s prescribed lectionary with anything that was going on around her, and needed more time to think about it.
The messages on the laptop downloaded as the percolator finished.
Clara grabbed her favourite mug – the one with pink and purple butterflies that Eleanora had bought her from a local pottery.
She had always loved the butterfly family and their process of metamorphosing.
She often wished she could metamorphose into becoming someone who could let go of herself, and be brave enough to take a chance in life.
Clara admired the way the students at the university seemed so carefree.
Why did she have to always err on the side of caution?
‘Ah, what a lovely start to the day,’ she said to herself as she took her first sip of coffee and saw a text from Tom. She gave her arms a stretch and reached out with a big smile. Having met Tom felt like winning the lottery.
She rubbed her eyes as the usual host of emails started filtering through.
Some of them were from Lawrence copying her in on things she probably didn’t need to be copied in on, an email or two from the porters at St Peter’s, a message from Roy, the organist, and the usual requests from parishioners asking for prayers or help. But then, a name caught her attention.
‘Lowri Thompson.’
It also had a high-importance flag, which wasn’t something she got that often, unless it was Lawrence in a panic.
Clara took another sip of coffee before she started reading the message.
Her heart skipped a beat as she read over the words.
Dear Clara,
I hope this email finds you well. I know it’s been a while since we worked together but I often think of you.
Life gets in the way sometimes and it’s so hard to keep in touch with past colleagues, but I have a very good reason for doing so now.
I just had to write to you as an amazing vacancy at work is about to come up!
Basically, there will be a position arising for a senior chaplain at King’s College, working alongside me in Cambridge.
They’re not recruiting for it for a little while, but I wanted to give you the heads up as I just heard the news.
We had so much fun working together that I would love to have you as a colleague again and, to be honest, I think you’d be perfect for the role.
My boss, Bryony Malcolm, happened to ask me if I knew of anyone suitable and I thought of you right away.
Of course, they’ll be advertising the role in due course, and I don’t think the position would begin until around mid-September, so there’s no rush to arrive at a decision, but I was excited to let you know. Please say you’ll think about it!
How’s Lawrence, by the way? Do give him my regards, although best not let him know I’m trying to poach you over to the other side! Does he still insist on driving that Morris Minor around? Or has it finally given up?
Anyway, if you fancy a chat, let me know. You have my number. Hope to hear from you soon.
Take care!
Lowri
Clara sat back in her chair, shocked by the email. It was wonderful of Lowri to think of her but Cambridge was far away. It was at least a two-hour drive. She remembered that Lowri had spoken about Bryony Malcolm when she moved there a few years ago. Lowri adored working with her.
This was quite the prestigious role and Clara was flattered to have been contacted about it.
What an enormous compliment. She read over the email again.
Seriously? Was she being poached by Lowri?
Was that what this was? She drained her coffee, trying to remain composed by reminding herself that it wasn’t an actual job offer.
They weren’t exactly handing her a contract.
It was merely an email telling her that a vacancy was opening up in a couple of months.
Still, she had only heard rumours of people being approached for coveted jobs, but didn’t know anyone it had actually happened to.
This was perhaps the most exciting thing that had ever happened to Clara and a well-received ego boost.
She was so thrilled that she needed to tell someone and wondered if Eleanora had already left for work. Picking up the phone to her best friend and filling her in, she was delighted to learn that she was close by and could pop in on the way to the boathouse.
Clara paced around the living room while she waited for Eleanora to arrive before pouring herself a refill from the percolator. The rest of the emails would have to wait. It was impossible to focus on anything when the offer of a lifetime had practically landed in her inbox.
‘What a nice email, Clara,’ said Eleanora as she bounded through the doorway in her scruffy work clothes.
‘If I was to apply, do you really think I have a chance of getting the job?’
Eleanora was busy removing the trusty black trainers she wore for work, before she answered.
She wiggled a toe as she noticed a hole was starting to poke through her Nordic sock; she remembering that a shopping trip was overdue.
Eleanora began to accept that Clara’s practice of often buying two of something might be more sensible after all.
‘Of course you do. You’ve as much chance as anyone else, possibly more. Goodness, it sounds like they’re even inviting you to apply. Lowri obviously knows how fabulous you are and who can blame them for wanting you there. Anyone would want to work with you!’
‘Well, I do know a few of the people there at King’s College.
But I’m not sure I’m brave enough to go for it.
I mean, as much as I’d love to, part of me is terrified.
I’ve been here forever. It would mean change and you know how much I’m a creature of habit.
Remember that time a position came up in York. I so wanted to apply.’
‘That’s your problem. Fear’s always held you back. You were terrified at the thought of a date the other day, now look at you with that hunky chap Tom! Who knows where this could lead? We’re not getting any younger, Clara. There might never be another chance like this.’
Eleanora thought how time was passing them by. She hated the fact that she was a divorcee in her fifties. If her best friend had a chance of living her best life, then she was going to do everything to encourage her.
‘It’s such a leap into the unknown though. I mean, Cambridge!’
‘You said it yourself that you know people there, so it’s not that alien. But, seriously, if you don’t go for it then you’ll never know. I’m sure they’ll offer you the role, but if it’s not meant to be then . . . I mean, you should at least apply when it comes up. What have you got to lose?’
Clara nodded. ‘Goodness, it’s so sweet of Lowri to think of me though. I didn’t realise I was that highly regarded.’
‘Of course you are. You’re a superstar. Everyone should want to snap you up, both career wise and relationship wise.’
‘Goodness, sorry, Nora. That reminds me, I was so surprised about the email that I forgot to ask, how did your date go last night?’
‘Don’t ask. Don’t ever try online dating. Do you know that when he turned up, he said . . .’