Clara undid the bow on the top and opened up the plain brown paper to discover a white glass candle.
Emblazoned across the front of it were the words:Smells like abandonment. Infused with the tears of missing you.
‘Who on earth sent this?’
‘No idea. I haven’t seen anyone come in here either,’ said Flora.
Clara wondered if it was from Tom but assumed that he wouldn’t know of her imminent departure from St Peter’s. A teeny part of her hoped it was from him, and the more she thought about it, that was exactly what she had done – abandoned him. She felt guilty as she thought about it. Had she abandoned him in his hour of need? Maybe she should have visited him to talk but, whether rightly or wrongly, she thought it best she let him recover. No, she couldn’t regret her decision.
The more she thought about the candle, she realised that it was probably a joke from someone she worked with. Charlie! That’s who it would be. It was exactly his humour. To be sure, at lunchtime, she popped into the halls of residence to find him.
‘Ah, my favourite gargoyle.’
‘What a greeting,’ said Clara, pretending to be offended.
‘A fine-looking gargoyle, mind you.’
Charlie gave Clara one of his cheeky winks. ‘Anyway, what can I do you for?’
‘I came to see if you knew anything about a mysterious candle?’
Charlie rubbed at his chin and wrinkled up his face. ‘A mysterious candle? Let me think. In the church, or...?’ Then he let out a mischievous grin. Charlie could never keep a secret, because he was one of those people whose face always gave it away.
‘Ah, I thought it would be from you.’
‘Bleeding abandoning us. That’s what you’re doing. Had to get it when I saw that. No idea what it smells like though.’
‘It smells gorgeous, so it would seem your tears smell like vanilla and patchouli.’ Clara fleetingly thought of Tom and the lovely scent he wore when they went punting.
‘I always knew I was different...’ Charlie teased her.
As Clara and Charlie laughed together, she thought of all the fun times they’d had at work over the years.
‘Will you be coming to the Michaelmas service?’
‘Does a zebra have stripes?’
‘I had to think about that for a second. Brain fog!’
‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world, lovely. I don’t think there’ll be enough pews for this one.’
Clara hoped she would have a good turnout for her service. Everyone so far had promised they would be attending. It was just a shame that one important person wouldn’t be there, but she couldn’t dwell on that, even though she desperately wanted to hear Tom’s voice echoing through the church. She missed his singing. There were a lot of things she craved about him, like the way he spoke so quietly and calmly, and those silly jokes he told. Nobody could make her laugh like Tom, not even Charlie.
ChapterThirty-One
September had always felt like a new start for Clara. While January might be the official new year, when you worked at a university, September brought new beginnings. The seasons were starting to change and it was time to put the summer dresses away. When Clara searched for something to wear, she came across the scarf that Tom had kindly bought her. It was perfect for the day ahead and, as she tied it around her neck, stroking the silk, the memory of how happy she was at that time came flooding back. There was no time to dwell though, as today was the first day of the fair of St Giles, which heralded the end of summer and the arrival of September. It meant that students would soon be pouring back to Oxford and the university would once again be a hive of activity.
Each year, before the fair commenced, a blessing took place – an occasion that Clara never missed. It was a good chance to catch up with Joanna, the local mayor, as St Giles’ Fair was officially opened by her and she said prayers to bless the event. While she wasn’t one for the rides of a funfair, Clara enjoyed listening to the Salvation Army band as they played and she sang along to the hymns she knew off by heart.
Clara could get lost in the sound of the band as the flugelhorns, cornets and trombones competed with each other. As she enjoyed the music, thoughts of Tom flashed through her mind as she remembered how Salvation Army members accepted eleven statements of belief, including abstinence from alcohol. Tom adored music and joining something like this would have been a good distraction. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? Momentarily, she blamed herself for not having done more for him. She should have thought of ways to keep him distracted but, then again, she couldn’t help someone when she didn’t fully know what they had been going through.
As people gathered around, Clara revelled in the atmosphere. It was a lovely way to spend a Monday morning and, when the band finished playing and the fair was officially open, she went for a walk around the rides and stalls with Joanna, now that her official mayoral duty was over. The smell of burgers and hot dogs made her feel hungry but, as Clara and Joanna chatted, there was only one thing on Clara’s mind. The Fudge Station had always been Clara’s favourite stall. She broke off a piece of clotted cream fudge and shared it with Joanna as they stopped to chat beside the dodgems.
‘So, it’s not long until you leave now.’ How she wished everyone would stop reminding her.
‘I know. It’s gone so fast. I haven’t had time to think since I accepted the position.’
‘I can imagine. Does Lawrence have a replacement for you yet?’
