Chapter 39
Arthur
Trying to write up these final pieces of coursework was like trying to put out a housefire by pathetically blowing on the flames. Useless. How was I supposed to concentrate on research methods when my mind refused to stop replaying the argument I had with Ember. I’d never been more seething at the teeth, especially considering that I thought we’d resolved everything. I thought she’d been honest with me. I appreciated that it must have taken a lot for her to open up like that, to be vulnerable. I still couldn’t get over the absolute absurdity of everything, when someone reveals something to you that questions everything you’ve ever known about the world, I think it’s natural to be a little hesitant at first. But even so, I was willing to understand, to learn more about this side of her life that she’d kept hidden for so long. It didn’t change how I felt about her, if anything, it made her even more intriguing. That’s why I couldn’t comprehend what happened next, how it all came tumbling down at rapid speed, how it all went so wrong. She lied straight to my face. She purposefully didn’t include the pretty vital part about how everything remotely good that had happened to me over the past few months had been a result of her magic, her puppeteering. Immediately, I felt weak again. The version of myself that had evolved and developed, the version of myself that I actually somewhat learned to like wasn’t even real. It was merely a fabrication, an ‘armour’ that was stowed upon me. The only way I could describe it, was that it felt like trying on someone else’s clothes and pretending you were them, you knew deep down that you’re not really them, but you could easily trick yourself into believing you were if you started living your life like theirs too. I was roleplaying, and she was the one providing the costume. The night of the argument, I rushed back home and in the heat of the moment, told Sam, (read: shouted), everything. As you can imagine, he laughed in my face at first.
“Wait, you expect me to believe that Ember’s a…witch?,” he said wiping the tear from his cheek. “I know you like sci-fi and fantasy, but witch’s aren’t real mate. She’s obviously using it as an excuse.”
I knew that would be the initial reaction, but how did he explain what she did to that guy?
“You saw her. She literally threw him through the air with her bare hands. How else do you explain that then?,” I asked accusingly, not in the mood to take any crap, even from my best friend. I’d had enough for one night.
Sam remained silent. I could tell that he was frantically thinking of an excuse for the event, only to come out with nothing.
“Exactly,” I said.
We spoke about everything that she’d told me about her past and tried our best to put two and two together. Sam looked completely frazzled as I explained the ‘luck’ spell, and how everything that had happened to me, had been her doing.
“Shit mate,” is all he could come out with. Not that I blame him. “Trying to wrack my brain around you know, witch’s being real and all that. But what are you going to do?”
I’d shrugged. I had absolutely no idea where to go from here. How could I ever trust her again after everything she’d done? The real kicker was that my parents had finally been proud of me, especially dad. For once, I felt worthy of him. I didn’t feel like a crumpled shell of a person when I was out any more, I felt confident in my abilities. I’d conquered my fear of public speaking and came out on top, I’d gotten a customer-facing job that I never thought I’d be capable of doing. There were so many barriers I’d broken, so many obstacles I’d overcome that the Arthur of one year ago, would have run and hid from. It had finally felt like I could breathe again, like my mind wasn’t a daily battle anymore, and to know that had been taken away from me, was the thing that hurt the most. I never even had a choice in the matter. I truly felt like I was back at square one again.
Ping.
My phone flashed with a text notification. I could feel my pulse throbbing in my chest as I unlocked my phone to open it.
Gran:Hi Arthur. sent you a well-done card for finishing uni a few days ago. Hopefully with you now. Gran xx
Technically, I hadn’t finished my assignments yet, but the sentiment was still there bless her.
I wandered outside towards reception to go and locate it. As always, there was no security guard at the desk, only an empty cup of coffee and a lit-computer screen. I sigh, I’ve been here for 9 months and I could count on one hand the amount of times I’ve seen anyone sat here, it’s a wonder how anyone ever gets any parcels. I’m just about to leave when I hear a grunt, “did you want something mate?” I turn around and see our disgruntled looking guard, hair windswept and stinking of tobacco. Ah. Smoke Break number 10000, check.
“Uh-yeah,” I point to the cupboard where they store all the post with a padlock. I don’t know why they bother, it’s not like we’re bursting at the seams to steal other people’s family postcards. “I think I’ve had a letter. Arthur Kirby Flat G02.” The man grumbles like I’ve done him a disservice by standing in his very chambers, and reluctantly clicks a code into the padlock before opening the door. It feels like he’s in there for 20 minutes, it can’t be that hard. It’s in alphabetical order and my name literally starts with an A. I twiddle my thumbs before he finally resurfaces.
“Got two letters for Arthur Kirby, Flat G02 yeah?”, I nod, taking the envelopes from his grasp.
“Cheers,” I mumble as I walk away, trying to decipher who the second letter was from. I didn’t recognise the handwriting. Then again, I sometimes didn’t even recognise my own parents handwriting, so I could well be having a moment. I head back into my flat, slump on my bed and open the first envelope. It’s a neon blue card with ‘ConGRADulations’ sprawled across the front in Yellow capital letters and a small stick figure wearing a cap and gown just below it. I can’t help but laugh at the fact that gran already thinks I’m graduating when I’ve barely finished first year, but it’s the thought that counts. I quickly type out a text to thank her before opening up the mysterious envelope. When I tear my way in, I find a piece of A4 lined paper, which had clearly been folded 2 ways to make it fit inside. I harrumph. Unfolding the piece of paper, I’m welcomed with what’s practically a novel. The black writing starts from the very top and goes all the way to the bottom of the page. I started to wonder whether this was even meant for me, that’s at least until I begin reading.
Dear Arthur,
You’re probably wondering who this is from, but you’ll quickly realise when I say that it’s the person who made the biggest mistake of their life by hurting you.
A huge lump forms in my throat as the realisation dawns, Ember.
I’ve been trying desperately to find the right words to tell you just how sorry I am for everything and I figured the last time I tried to do so, it didn’t go so well. So I thought I’d try again here. Ever since my dad passed away, I’ve felt a hole in my heart, one that has never been filled and I don’t think ever will be. Not that I’m using the ‘dead parent’ card, but the whole reason I came to Uni to study Psychology, was to feel closer to him. To do what he loved, to help people. As you know, I never thought magic would be something that was in the cards for me. It couldn’t save dad, so I thought what the hell was it useful for? I’m an amateur when it comes to magic, I’ve had next to no practice, I didn’t even tell you that when I tried to do the luck spell the first time round, I accidentally summoned a cat…A CAT! If that doesn’t tell you that I’m a poor excuse for a half-witch, then I don’t know what will. I called him Robert Cattinson and ended up hiding him in my room for over a month, secretly sneaking him ham and telling Poppy and Amy that he was a stray I found on the street…a whole new level of low I know.
I audibly snort at that part.
But what I’m trying to say is, I have no idea what I’m doing. I shouldn’t have for once thought I had any right to control what happened in your life. I got cocky. I thought I could change your life for you because I had the means to. I realise now though that just because I ‘could’ doesn’t mean I should have. Your life is your own, and you’re perfect the way that you are.
My heart zings in my chest as I re-read that last sentence. She thinks I’m perfect?
I know it’s not an excuse, but I really didn’t mean to hurt you. All I wanted to do was make your life that little bit more bearable. I mean, your first bad memory at Uni was literally me throwing up over you. I thought I owed it to you. I saw how you struggled, how you hid yourself, how you nearly killed yourself locked away in your room for those assignments, not eating or sleeping, (if you’re wondering how I know that let’s just say Sam’s got a big mouth). But I would have guessed anyway. I was so worried about you Arthur. I hated the way your dad treated you, never acknowledging your successes or what you had to give. Ever since the day I met you, I’ve only wanted the best for you. I could always see what you were capable of if you were just willing to give yourself a try. Your love of all-things-sci-fi, the little happy-dance you do when you thought no one was watching whenever Milgram came up in our lecturers, the way you weren’t afraid to be vulnerable with me when you told me about your dad, your refusal to let me sing ‘baby back ribs’ alone, no matter how weird we looked, the way your deep blue irises make me weak at the knees whenever you look at me, or the way my stomach fluttered when you took my hand in yours and encouraged me to face my fear of ice-skating. The way it felt like we were the only people in the room when our lips nearly met on the dance floor…
What I’m trying to say, is that if it wasn’t abundantly obvious by this long-ass, soppy letter, I have feelings for you Arthur. Can’t-eat-can’t-sleep-dancing-on-the-table kind of feelings, and I had those for you way before the spell. I’m that same girl, no matter what you now know about me. Not that it’s any consolation, but I spoke with my mum and Allegra about the spell and just to reassure you, the version of yourself that you’ve become in the last few months is you. The spell might have caused all the luckiness, but you were the one reacting to it. The newfound confidence is because of you, not me. Anyways, I’ll try not to bore you any more than I’m probably doing, but I just wanted to say that I am so completely and utterly sorry for what I did. I’ve hurt you and that’s inexcusable. You all have every right to feel betrayed and although it would breaky my heart, I’d understand if you felt like you couldn’t move past this or talk to me again. That’s why I wanted to also let you know that I’ve moved back home for the rest of the semester. I need time to work on myself, finish my assignments and just figure out what I need. It’s for the best if I don’t come back right now. You’re all probably better off without me anyway.
I’m so sorry again for all the hurt I’ve caused, you deserve the world Arthur and I’d say that I hope someone gives it to you, but actually, I hope you give it to yourself. You belong, always.
Ember x
I blink back the tears that have started to form. I’m in shock. That’s the most heartfelt thing anyone has ever said about me. My mind is a whirr of confusion right now, it’s like every ounce of anger in my body has dissolved, flowing like water down a drain. I feel lighter, freer. The only thing outstanding is guilt. I should have taken the time to listen to her without storming off, I should have let her speak her mind. Maybe if I had, she would have had the time to tell me all of this in person and she’d still be here. I could tell that she was writing with complete sincerity, I had no doubts in the world about that. She’d been trying to explain to me that everything she had done was to help me, but she’d left out the part about having…feelings. I couldn’t believe that she felt the same. All those moments that I questioned whether I was going crazy or whether it was just me, she was feeling it all too? But now I’d catastrophically blown it, I’d let her slip through my fingers. I let her leave feeling like she wasn’t good enough or that anyone wanted anything to do with her. She questioned whether we thought she was a monster, but I think we were the real monsters here. Now she was gone. With a buzz of urgency, I open my bedroom door and shout for Sam.
“Are you alright?!,” Sam bellows, running up the corridor.
I nod fast, “I’m fine. Just read this- it’s from Ember,” shoving the letter into his hands.
“Jeeze. I thought you were dying or something,” he responds, before examining the letter.
After he finishes reading, he immediately says, “call her now. I’ll go over to Poppy’s and show her and Amy.”
“On it,” I assert, before jabbing my thumb on the dial.
“Oh and Arthur,” Sam says, swinging his head round the door.
“Yeah?,” I ask.
“She’s got feelings for you, eh?,” he smirks.
I throw a pillow at him, before putting the phone back to my ear.
One ring...two ring…three ring…four ring…
Voicemail.
Gah. Was she not going to answer her calls now? I knew she said it was for the best if she wasn’t around, but she didn’t know that. I feel like shit knowing that I was the once who pushed her away. The one who made her feel like this. I try dialling again and it goes straight to voicemail. I’m not giving up; I text her this time.
Me: Ember, please call me! I just got your letter. I’m not mad, I promise. I’m so sorry for being a dick. I just want to know that you’re okay x
I frantically check my phone every 2 seconds, but I get no response. I start to panic, was her letter a goodbye? Was she not coming back? Surely, she’d have to at some point in order to pack up all of her stuff, I doubt she’d packed an entire bedroom into her suitcase by herself in one night. I could easily drive myself insane thinking of all the possible explanations, but I instead opt to think about a key thing in all of this. My relationship with dad. Had Ember not done the spell, and all of this never happened to me, would dad have still been proud of me anyway? It was the one thing eating away at me, like an unseen mosquito chewing on flesh. I’d never usually be this brash, but I needed to know. Before I can even think about what I’m doing, I’m already dialling his number.
“Arthur, is everything okay?,” his deep voice questions on the other end of the line.
“Dad, there’s something that’s been bothering me.” I say sharply, taking no time to get straight to the point.
“Okay?”
“If I didn’t get those firsts-say if I got, a 2.1, 2.2 or even a third, would you still be proud of me?,” I ask, hearing my heartbeat pound in my ear.
“What sort of question is that?,” he croaks.
“Dad, I’m serious. I’ve never felt good enough for you. I know that you think my anxiety is a burden and you’d much rather have another son, but I just need to know, no matter what, would you still be proud of me. Are you proud of me?,” I choke on that last sentence, panicking that I’ve overstepped.
He coughs, “Where is all of this coming from? You know I’m proud of you. Your mum and I did that whole celebration lunch thing because we were proud.”
I roll my eyes, “But that was only because I got a first. I doubt you’d do it if I got anything else, you didn’t even want me to have the job at Waterstones, turning your nose up immediately, like having a job in retail meant that I was beneath you.”
“Arthur,” he says, in a serious but meaningful tone. “Let’s get one thing straight. You could have a first, you could even fail, and I would still be proud of you. I know I’ve not been the best dad; I hold my hands up to that. I’ve made a lot of mistakes when it comes to you, I know that. I’m not good with knowing how to deal with your anxieties, your grandad always told me to get on with mine. I guess it’s something I’ve been meaning to work on,” he fumbles down the phone, “I-Uhm-I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel beneath me, I don’t think that for one minute. You know I’m no good at this, but what I can say, is I-I do love you Arthur, very much. You’re my son, I don’t want another. I’m going to do better by you, I mean it.”
I breathe a sigh of relief, that’s what I needed to hear. A breakthrough in a turbulent relationship that has plagued me since I was a kid. I knew that fixing our relationship would take way more time and effort than one simple phone call, but even if it was a small win, it was still a win, nonetheless.
“Thanks dad. I love you too,” I respond. “Sorry for being a bit random, I just needed to hear it.”
“Well-Uh-Okay,” dad says gawkily. “We’ll facetime you later, usual time?”
“Yeah,” I smile, “can’t wait.” I put the phone down on my bed and reflect. Sam still hadn’t come back yet. I imagine him, Poppy and Amy were all still trying to make sense of everything. Something that Ember mentioned in the letter hit me.
The version of yourself that you’ve become in the last few months is you.
At first, I was furious about the luck spell, but what made me even angrier was the idea that the elements of myself I was starting to like weren’t real. I felt controlled like a puppet to strings. What I hadn’t realised, was exactly what she’d just said. Everything that happened to me, was her. I knew that now. But the person I became as a result, was all me. I learned to grow on my own. If anything, she helped me to develop into the person that I am. She liked me at both my worst and my best, supporting me through and through. How she felt about me and how I felt about her in return, that was real. I wasn’t stupid, I knew I’d always have anxiety. Like I said to her during our fight, it wasn’t a matter of poof and it magically disappeared, I knew it didn’t work that way. It was something that I’d likely always have to deal with. But what was different this time round, was that for once, I didn’t let it overpower me. I had anxiety, anxiety didn’t have me. She’d helped me to learn who I was, to learn who I could be. I couldn’t let her think that we’d all turned our backs on her, that I’d turned my back on her. I was going to keep trying to reach out, whether she liked it or not. I didn’t care how long it took; I just hoped I wasn’t too late.