She thought of suggesting some spurious excuse but Eleanora would never forgive her. She was rooting for her to take this position. The job at Cambridge had come into her life for a reason and now she must go with her fate.
So, as Lawrence stood there waiting for an answer, Clara blurted it out completely differently to how she had planned it in her head.
‘Notice. I have to give you. Leaving. I’m sorry. Have another job.’
‘Say that again?’
Clara snorted. She needed to be strong. There was nothing to be afraid of. She would have to tell Lawrence the news before HR contacted him.
‘I’ve been offered a new position as senior chaplain. I’m afraid that I have to give you my notice. I’m moving to King’s College in Cambridge. I hope it’s okay but they’ll require a reference.’
‘Gosh, I wasn’t expecting this news today. What a shock. I’m obviously devastated to be losing such a wonderful member of staff, although I do understand. That’s a fantastic position for you. I suppose I should congratulate you. You do deserve it.’
‘Thank you for being so understanding. Here’s my resignation letter,’ said Clara, handing him her carefully prepared handwritten letter that she wrote before work.
Clara almost felt disappointed. In some ways she had wanted Lawrence to beg her to stay. Tell her she was truly irreplaceable and that he’d give her a salary increase, a promotion – anything to keep her. Then she could stay in Oxford and not have to leave everyone behind. Although she was also relieved that Lawrence hadn’t taken the news too badly. She hated letting people down even though she knew he had time to find a replacement.
‘If I’m honest with you, I think you’ll make an absolutely wonderful senior chaplain. Our loss is their gain. You’ll be very much missed though, Clara.’
She smiled, pleased that at least she would be missed.
‘Thank you. That means a lot. I’ll miss you all, too. I can’t imagine not working with you all, but it’s such a promotion. I can’t really turn it down even though I don’t actually want to leave, just so you know.’
Clara was practically backtracking already. She had worked here forever and now she was leaving her comfy role. She reminded herself that she wanted to do something daring, something exhilarating. She couldn’t stay in the same place all her life, even though she knew how hard it would be to say goodbye to all her lovely colleagues and the worshippers. Clara desperately tried to dismiss her hesitation. She still had over a month or so left, she had a little time before she had to say her goodbyes. She would face that when it came to it.
She thought again of Tom. Now that she’d informed Lawrence, it wouldn’t be long before the congregation and his fellow choristers heard the news. Should she at least tell him that much? Clara battled with the thought but decided it was better he didn’t know anything about it at all. She figured that he wouldn’t have much contact with the outside world where he was, and because he didn’t want anyone to find out where he was, the chances of him hearing the news from anyone else was slim.
Flora, the chapel clerk, had already overheard the news and rushed out to buy some congratulatory chocolates. She had joined the chapel around four years earlier and Clara admired the way she used any excuse to buy chocolates for everyone. Flora had once even bought a box of Roses for all to celebrate when her cat came home from the vet after being castrated.
‘Ooh, do you mind if I take two hazelnut whirls?’ asked Clara.
‘Take three. We are celebrating your success after all. I’m so proud of you.’
‘You’re such a sweetheart, thank you.’
Clara joined in with the celebrations as everyone around her congratulated her. Yet, as much as she munched on chocolate, and revelled in her moment of glory, she felt slightly sad. St Peter’s Chapel was full of cherished memories that had been created by the people she adored and she worried that nothing could ever compare with the wonderful life she had enjoyed in Oxford.
ChapterTwenty-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.
* * *
