Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
It wasn’t only the people of Oxford that Clara would miss.
She was a pro at saying goodbye, after all; life at a university had always been transient.
She had seen her fair share of nervous students arriving, only to leave a few years later with a newly grown confidence to often never be seen again.
However, she couldn’t imagine not popping down the local with Eleanora, laughing about some of the funny things that her best friend had experienced on the punt and the stories she told of the tides of the Cherwell.
Yes, she would miss Eleanora most of all, but also Charlie, Margaret, Brian, Janet, even Lawrence.
He was a good boss. Clara vowed to make the most of her notice period and decided to organise as many events as she could before she left.
She wanted to spend these last few weeks in Oxford with everyone she loved.
Her last service at St Peter’s would be a big event when they would all welcome in the new academic year.
As new students would arrive for the Michaelmas term and existing students returned, she thought how poignant it was that, as she ended with her last service at Oxford, it would be the very beginning for others.
She would make sure that it was the best welcome they had ever seen.
Whenever she had a wobble about leaving all her friends and everything so familiar, she tried to think of Lowri, and since Clara made friends wherever she went, being lonely wasn’t top of her list of fears.
It was the new beginning that was more unsettling – that change of routine and everything she knew.
They say that people made a place but when it came to Oxford, Clara felt that the place also made the people.
She thought how the beguiling river provided Eleanora with a family business where she could spend her summers hiring out punts in the outdoors.
The esteemed university meant that students came from all over the world and the city became a melting pot of cultures, particularly during term time.
The hospitality industry kept afloat because of all the tourists coming to visit the beautiful city.
Oxford had something special, she thought, and that is what would be irreplaceable.
She had always loved Oxford, but Clara was already seeing it differently.
She had discovered a new-found respect for it.
One afternoon, after she had put her spare bed up for sale, along with a bookcase that would be too cumbersome to take to Cambridge, Clara went for a walk to clear her head as thoughts of Tom creeped in.
Like much of her life, she wasn’t sure which direction she was heading but Clara kept plodding along until she found herself outside the Ashmolean Museum. Had her subconsciousness brought her here?
She looked at the column Tom had been leaning against when she showed up. She recalled what a wonderful day that had been. He’d looked so healthy and smart; she wouldn’t have believed that within a matter of weeks he would end up unconscious and going to rehab.
Clara wanted to keep on walking and go towards the park, but the clouds were indicative of a summer shower.
She figured she would go in and enjoy the museum, although much to her dismay, she soon realised that it wasn’t going to be as much fun without Tom.
When she saw her favourite painting once again, she wanted to turn around and discuss it, but there was nobody there except some Spanish-speaking tourists.
Seeing everything again made her want to go and visit Tom, but she knew that she needed to stay away.
Tom needed help, and she had a new life ahead of her and it was going to be wonderful.
Even though she missed him terribly, she had to be cruel to be kind, and Tom didn’t need her as a distraction during his recovery, especially not when she was leaving.
She tried to focus on the paintings of the museum and not her memories of Tom.
To distract her thoughts, Clara stood and admired one of Turner’s watercolours of Oxford and how he had illustrated some academics.
She was mesmerised by it and drifted off as she was immersed into the world in front of her.
* * *
At St Luke’s, Tom was sat on his chair staring at the painting on the wall.
It wasn’t half as intricate as the Turner landscape he remembered seeing at the Ashmolean that magical day with Clara, but, as he appreciated the canvas print of the university, he admired the way in which the students had been drawn.
It made him think of Clara again. What would she be doing now?
He knew he couldn’t beg her, but how he wished he had heard from her.
He’d pushed her away and he didn’t blame her at all for not coming to see him, but he still couldn’t help wishing things were different.
He closed his eyes and remembered how happy he was at the museum, imagining himself holding hands with Clara again.
The first time they had touched hands, he thought how soft they were.
As he fantasised about Clara, he could almost feel her softness.
Then he drifted off for a nap, hoping to dream about her.
For now, that was the only possibility he had of seeing her.
* * *
Clara left the museum trying to be positive.
She didn’t need a man in her life; she was perfectly fine before she met Tom and would be again.
She had simply got used to having him around and it was purely his company she missed.
It was a hole in her life that Eleanora and all her friends at church could fill.
She’d be fine as long as she didn’t think about him too much.
Her mood improved further when she bumped into Charlie.
‘Hello. Where you off to?’
‘Just wondering around aimlessly. Making the most of it here before I have to leave for Cambridge. It’ll come around quickly.’
‘Yeah. I can’t believe you’re leaving. You’re a dark horse. How can you do that to us?’
‘Sorry. I know. It’s as much of a surprise to you as it is to me, believe it or not. Just too good to refuse.’
‘I can’t imagine it here without you though. I mean, you’re like one of the gargoyles.’
‘Gargoyles! Now that’s a new one, cheeky Charlie.’
‘I mean it with the deepest respect. We all know how you’re a much-loved part of this city. You’re practically part of the furniture.’
‘Hmm, is there a compliment in there somewhere, Charlie?’
‘There absolutely is. It won’t be the same without you, but it’s our loss. You so deserve a promotion like this.’
‘Thanks, Charlie. I’ll miss you all terribly.’
‘Ah, well, we’ll make the most of it until you leave, that’s for sure.’
‘Indeed, which reminds me. I’ve started getting rid of some of my stuff. If you know any students looking for a bargain, or anyone in need, do let me know.’
‘I’ll keep that in mind and, on that note, I’d better be off. Got some doors in one of the dorms I need maintenance to look at before term starts.’
‘Of course. I’ll see you soon, Charlie . . . Gargoyles though, really!’
Charlie and Clara laughed as they bade each other goodbye, and when Clara felt awkward following Charlie in the same direction, she made a slight detour that found her outside Alice’s Shop.
She remembered when it was a sweet shop some time ago.
She used to pop in from time to time for a packet of bon-bons, but she hadn’t stepped foot in there since it had changed hands.
Now, as she saw the city in the eyes of the tourists around her, she decided that it might be nice to take a little trinket to Cambridge with her to remind her of home.
Packed full of Alice in Wonderland souvenirs, Clara enjoyed looking around.
Thankfully, unlike in the Alice in Wonderland story, the shop wasn’t manned by a sheep.
Instead, a friendly lady said hello as Clara browsed the trinkets.
Excitedly, she picked up a bright pink leather-bound copy of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass.
Leafing through the gold-sprayed-edged pages reminded her of her childhood and being in bed reading under the covers long after she was supposed to be asleep.
She simply had to take the book to the till, where she saw a White Rabbit trinket box that she couldn’t resist. She was tempted by the tea towels too, but she felt that was perhaps a little too touristy.
Leaving with her keepsakes felt symbolic as she realised that even if she said goodbye to the city, she would always have a piece of Oxford with her. It would always be in her heart and soul; she was Oxford born and bred, after all.
By the time she arrived back home, she was getting excited for her new adventure. She thought it funny how her forthcoming new career hit her in waves. One minute she was excited for a new start; the next she was petrified at the thought.
Since she had no plans for her day off and she was experiencing a positive moment about the move, she decided there was no time like the present to start having a clear-out.
Clara went through drawers that had been untouched for years, sneezing with all the unsettled dust as she did so.
Some things she had long forgotten and was thrilled when she found a yellowed newspaper article with news of her appointment at St Peter’s.
She thought back to how proud her parents were and how delighted she was.
Between the three of them, they must have bought at least five copies of the paper to frame and keep as mementos.
It was her dream come true to get a position at St Peter’s, and she’d sworn she would never leave.
That was a long time ago now though and everything had changed.
She placed the paper to one side; she would definitely be taking that with her.
As she looked at it on the floor, she wondered if there would be another article announcing her new position.
Most of the local journalists knew her, so there was a fair chance they would print something.
Emptying the drawer further, she was amazed at half the junk she had accumulated over the years.
She really didn’t need the instruction manual for the washing machine she’d got rid of eons ago, or the packet of sunflower seeds that she would now never grow in the garden.
As she picked up a little ceramic good luck angel that her mum bought her on her eighteenth birthday that she had mislaid, she realised she should have had this clear-out years ago.
She held it in her hand as it dawned on her that sometimes you had to clear things out from your life to find what you didn’t realise you were looking for.