Chapter 22 (In this moment)
I sat watching the snow fall. I was having tea. I was wondering how old Funani was. I had lost track of time. Especially years.
I can hear the party going on in the big house, I am happy they are happy. Just because I have a broken wing per se’, does not mean I begrudge others their joy.
I still look for Tiger. It’s been a year, not to the date. To be honest, I try to forget the dates.
I don’t regret going ‘home’, I shall never regret that decision. It was Christmas Eve. I felt trapped. I had cleaned and re -cleaned. Packed and re-packed.
I needed to get out of the cottage. I have these moments when it all comes crashing down. I think I have all my blocks neatly piled up, when I expect it the least, the memories assail my mind.
I pulled my coat on and pulled the hat up. I took my umbrella. And I walked. All the stores were closed, and beautifully decorated. I looked into each one. Such joy.
I was looking into a store window; I wasn’t looking where I was going. I collided with a back.
I stepped away, and I slipped on the ice. He grabbed hold of my hand before I could fall, but the motion had pulled my back out.
“Oh Mother.” I couldn’t look up. My back was in a spasm. He bent and looked up at me.
“Hi, do you need a doctor?” I looked into the dark eyes. His accent was thick. He was most definitely born and raised in these parts.
“No, I’ll be fine. Sorry, I didn’t see you standing there, my apologies for bumping into you.”
He was still bent and looking at me. I tried to turn, and willed myself to walk. Idiotic back, why now?
“I can take you home, to a doctor.”
“No thank you. I shall get home.” I had raised my voice; I am not partial to outbursts.
He walked next to me. “I said, I am bloody fine.” He stopped. Then it hit me.
“Shit, sir. I tried to look up. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, nor …shit. It’s not you. I am frightened of men.” He bent down.
“As you should be. You look in pain. I am a cop. Look at my badge. I will take you to a doctor. All right? I am Benjamin, Ben for short.”
I looked at the badge. “You win.” He helped me into the back of his car. Damn I cussed.
Once we reached the emergency rooms, and I received the injections into my spine. Did my mind clear. Believe me in this condition and in this pain, you will beg for an injection directly into your spine.
“Um nurse, is the officer still here that brought me in?” She left and Ben walked in.
“You look straight.” I didn’t smile. He sat down.
“I am sorry for bumping into you.”
“No harm done. I was looking at the displays. My apartment can shrink at times.”
I know he has undergone psychiatric training. My father told me years back it was mandatory. I know he was evaluating me, as much as I was him.
“I should be fine now. I need to go home; I don’t have my purse on me.” He nodded.
“May I drive you to your home?”
Ben glanced at me. I spoke first.
“I owe you an apology and some kind of an explanation. Firstly, my name is Nichole Atkinson. I was rude, not because of you. I am genuinely afraid of strangers.”
“Please to make your acquaintance Nichole Atkinson. I didn’t think you had a racist bone in your body. All I saw was fear. Believe me, times might have changed, or maybe not. I do know the difference between prejudice and fear.”
“Thank you, I know it’s Christmas eve, I hope I am not keeping you from your family, Ben.”
“Nah, it’s only myself and a pot plant. This has been a nice distraction. Are you easily injured?”
“Quite, a spinal deformity. It can decide to play up when I least expect it. I was feeling, claustrophobic. I thought a walk might do me good. I was so fascinated with the decorations; I should have watched where I was going.”
“I don’t mind; you can bump into me anytime. I am sorry it hurt you. Nichole, you don’t smile, ever.”
“I know. It hasn’t been an easy year.” He stopped outside the cottage. I struggled up the steps. Fetched my purse, and he drove me back to the hospital.
“Stunning cottage. I haven’t seen one in years. I may add, the house sure is decorated.”
“My daughter and her husband has family over. She is a Christmas junkie, if it was Christmas every day of the year, then she would be as happy as…well she would be happy.”
Ben didn’t ask questions. He helped me out of the car and to the front desk.
Once the paper-work was settled, did he ask me if I’d like to have a cup of tea.
I was about to say no. But something in me, said yes before I could refuse.
‘There aren’t any places open.”
“I know; I am taking you to my place. Nichole. I have no nefarious intentions, it’s a cup of tea.”
“I know.” I had dug my nails into my hand so deeply it bled.
I was introduced to the pot plant. He looked at my hands. But he didn’t remark. He set the kettle on the gas, and took my coat.
It was warm and tidy. I sat on the couch and melted into it.
Ben set the tray down. “I think I might take your couch home. It’s heavenly.”
“Thank you. Yeah I took it from home when I moved out, it’s old, been reupholstered a few times. You are right, I sleep here most nights, no sit I shall pour.”
I took the cup. Ben looked at my hands. I looked at the tea.
He sat back, on that couch I didn’t feel his movement.
“How long has it been?” I frowned. “What?” Ben looked at me. “The rape?”
Ben grabbed the cup before it fell. “I am so sorry Ben.”
“I had no right to ask such a personal question.”
I looked at him. “You see what you see, it’s been a year. It wasn’t rape, not by law. I had the whole disambiguation as to why that word wasn’t acceptable.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “That’s disgusting. I assume no charges could be laid?”
I shook my head no. I looked at Ben. “I wonder what happens to a man, if he is well…assaulted? Or a gay man? How and who tells the difference between rape and buggering?”
Ben bit his lip. “I never thought about it in that way. You are right Nichole, we have it all twisted, into a ball, so we can justify our own actions, according to our own warped beliefs. It’s a twisted playground, and everyone has blinkers on. May I ask whom?”
“Yeah, we have come this far. You know well enough it’s someone close to one. My ex-husband.”
Ben nodded. “May I ask who he is?”
“Leo Stanhope. Sir.”
Ben turned to look at me.
“Leo Stanhope has a list of physically assaults against him as long as my arm, but the Sir in the mix, gets away with it every time. hence why his wives filed for divorce, not that the accusations stood up in court. You say he is your ex-husband. What in hell made him do such a thing?”
“Rejection, and my first ex-husband. Sir Harry Atkinson. Him however I didn’t chose. I was forced into that union. Reason number two. Why Leo could justify his actions, ethnic cleansing. My late husband was African.”
“Shite. Was he from here, your late husband?”
“No, not even close, I mean he was African, a Zulu. We grew up together. We were married for a fortnight, and some people, his own people weren’t too favourable with union.”
Ben cussed under his breath. “That’s inconceivable.”
“No Ben, that’s the stark reality. No matter where I go, they have tabled me. A year ago, I went home, to the place of my birth, to visit with my step-son, and Leo and Harry took it upon themselves to cure me of my decease.”
Ben sat with his head in his hands. He was processing, he shook his head every so often, I could feel he wanted to say something, but the words got stuck. He just shook his head.
“Cure you? Who deemed him your God?”
“Oh he did, when he couldn’t break me while we were married, he sure tried once we were divorced. I only found out after the assault, that Leo and Harry were long-time friends. Harry came to Africa seeking his fortune, can you believe that? The land, is its own master, and he knew nothing about farming. He is back. I am waiting for his next move. That’s why I don’t smile. I am waiting.”
Ben turned and looked at me. “Why don’t you leave?’
“He has followed me here, he will hunt me to the ends of the world, because I loved another. I couldn’t love him. Love is a gift, not easily handed out.” Ben nodded I agreement.
We sat outside the cottage for a while watching the snow for a blanket over our little world.
“Ben, tomorrow is Christmas. You need to eat I assume, and I guess I need to eat. Would you share a Christmas lunch with me?”
Ben smiled. “Yeah, that would be nice. No turkey?”
“No, I have not quiet acquired a pallet for it.”
Ben looked at me. “Then we have a deal, neither have I.”
I was dog tired by the time I got into bed. I was up early the next morning. I waited for the lights in the kitchen to go on in the big house. Then I rang Gwendoline.
“Merry Christmas Gwendoline. I have a favour to ask. Do you have a pint of beer to spare?”
“Mum?”
“No silly goose, I have a guest for lunch, it’s not for me. long story, I shall catch you up on another day.”
Gwendoline was over in her nightgown. “Only a pint? What about dessert? A little spotted dick mum?”
“No thank you, daughter. The dessert is a yes, minus the spotted dick, anything with dick in it should be banned.”
Knowing Gwendoline, the way I do, I knew she would bring me half of the pantry and then some.
“Thank you. It looks lovely, very cheerful.” I embraced her and held her for a long time. I don’t think I have embraced anyone this year. I didn’t feel the need to be touched.
“I love you mum, have a lovely day, be blessed. And it is a he? Right?”
“Yeah, it’s a he.”
I knew she was bursting at the seams to ask me more. We both had to entertain that day.
I tidied up. Watched the clock like a hawk. Got dressed I may add, I even put on a slight ‘face’ and a dash of perfume.
Ben arrived with a box in hand. I waited for him to knock.
“Merry Christmas Ben, do come in.” He looked at the laden table, then at the box.
“Merry Christmas Nichole. That looks very cheerful. This might not be needed.”
I took the box and placed it on the table, then I shook the snow off his coat and hung it on a hook.
“I shall be the judge of that.” I opened the box. Inside lay two large ginger bread men.
“Oh Ben, these are delightful. How considerate” I didn’t know I was crying. I don’t know why I was overcome with emotion. Ben wiped a tear from my face.
“You are most welcome. So what’s for lunch?” I know he was making light of the solemn mood.
I placed a glass and the beer on the table. I placed a platter in front of Ben. I had to smile, he had tucked his serviette into his collar.
He slowly lifted the lid and peeked inside. It’s been a long time since I heard anyone laugh with their soul.
“Nichole you have out done yourself. Grilled cheese sandwiches and beer. This is one for the books. Thank you.”
I poured tea for myself. I have to say. That meal was fit for a king. I think I ate until I ached. So did Ben. He sat back and rubbed his abdomen.
“I didn’t want to scare you with my culinary skills. So I thought I would just take it a step further.”
“I am impressed; I don’t think I could look at a traditional Christmas meal the same again.”
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