‘You won’t. I can assure you,’ said Tom as he tapped Mike’s shoulder.
‘I believe it. I can see the determination. Now, what must you remember?’
‘I am in full control of my actions and decisions.’
‘Nice one. Good luck for the future, mate.’
Tom breathed in the fresh air as he walked outside with his bag. It felt great to be alive and to be in recovery – for good this time.
After all the work he had done through therapy, mindfulness and being consistent in his determination to recover, he already felt different. While the birds chirped in the trees of the car park, it was as though a weight had been removed from his shoulders. He too was as free as a bird. He still had relationships to fix, such as the ones with Clara and Josh, but as he’d had it drilled into him enough times: he had to take things step by step. One day he hoped he and Josh might resolve their differences but that was something for the future. For now, he had to get home and work on a resolution with Clara.
* * *
Stuffing the clothes that she wouldn’t need urgently into her suitcase, Clara took a second glance at the summer dress she wore on that first coffee date with Tom. She wondered how so much could have happened in one summer.
Brushing her hand along the cotton dress, she pictured herself back at the café overlooking the river. She asked herself if she would have gone on the date had she known what she later discovered. Clara wasn’t one to have regrets so she decided that, despite it not working out, she had enjoyed her time with Tom and would do it all over again, although perhaps not the part where she found him collapsed.
* * *
Tom sat on his sofa, relieved to finally be back home. The first thing he was going to do was hoover the place. Clara had cleared up most of the mess but it was time for a good spring clean. He looked at the spiderweb above the stereo and realised how much he had neglected his home, just as he had his mental health. As he looked at the Fleetwood Mac LP cover that he had dumped on the floor that night he ended up in hospital, he felt a wave of shame. Then he reminded himself that he was moving forward and it was time to stop beating himself up. The moment he walked through the front door, he was resolute that he had become the best version of himself. A changed man.
It was no surprise that he had never invited Clara over. He knew his home needed sprucing up, yet didn’t quite have the enthusiasm to clean so that he could invite her over. He was determined that he would start entertaining more. He suddenly remembered that Darren at choir had invited him out for a meal with the other choristers and he hadn’t bothered to respond. He would make amends and maybe even suggest he do a curry night at home. Tom started to make plans and decided he was going to get the house spick and span. Not to mention making sure that he looked his best too.
Before he started on all his jobs though, he made himself a coffee. Looking out of the kitchen window as he waited for the kettle to boil, he caught a badger scurrying into the hedgerow. He smiled to himself. He was happy to be sober as he recognised that he no longer needed his emotions to be numbed, because he finally realised that not all emotions were bad. Some were absolutely wondrous too.
ChapterThirty-Three
Clara didn’t have to get to chapel until the afternoon. For once, there was nothing to prepare and no emails to respond to, so she could take the morning off at leisure. Since another of the things that she would miss about Oxford was her favourite artisan bakery, she decided she would take her bicycle across town and pick up a sourdough loaf before they all sold out. She threw on her jogging bottoms in her hurry to beat the competitive customers and hoped nobody would see her. On a mission, she ran into the bakery with its smell of freshly baked bread oozing out from the ovens, grabbed her loaf and hurried back home. She had a jar of Janet’s homemade marmalade in the pantry and couldn’t wait to smother it on a slice of the warm bread. Clara knew it was Murphy’s law that you could guarantee everyone would see you at the shops when you hadn’t made an effort, so she was delighted to arrive back home without having been spotted.
She was about to slice off a piece of bread when the doorbell rang. Clara assumed it must be Julie and before answering, ran through a range of scenarios that she could be complaining about. She always found it was helpful to have an answer ready for her, rather than making an excuse for some terrible misdemeanour on the spot. She hadn’t made the mistake of leaving the bin within an inch of its proper space again, so it couldn’t be that. Clara had slammed a door accidentally when the window was open, but surely her ears weren’t that good. Perhaps it was a positive visit. Was she coming over with a leaving gift?
As Clara opened the door to a pair of legs and the biggest display of red roses she had ever seen, she immediately sneezed. Recovering, she was faced again with the pair of legs that looked as though they were holding the weight of this giant bouquet; Clara couldn’t help but laugh at the spectacle in front of her.
She had seen many floral displays in the church at weddings and special services but she had never seen anything quite this spectacular in bouquet form. For a second, she wondered if it had been sent from the whole congregation and assumed they may have all clubbed together to buy such an enormous bouquet. But then a face peeped out from behind the flowers. Instinctively, her tummy did somersaults and her pulse raced.
‘Tom.’
‘Hello, Clara.’
For a moment they both stood on the doorstep looking at each other. Tom couldn’t help but stare as he was so delighted by the sight of Clara again. All the words he imagined he would say refused to come out as he admired her.
Clara, meanwhile, couldn’t help but think how healthy he looked and how clear it was that rehab had done Tom the world of good.
‘My goodness. Wow. I wasn’t expecting you, Tom.’
Clara smoothed down her hair, vehemently regretting the fact that she was still in her trusty jogging bottoms that sagged at the bum. She told herself she would be fine as long as she didn’t have to turn around.
‘I wanted to pop over with a little something to apologise for all that I’ve done.’
Tom attempted to hand over the bouquet but there wasn’t room for a bulky bouquet and Clara in her narrow doorway, and so a barrage of rose petals hit her in the face. It made her sneeze once again. Her voice was slightly muffled by the flowers as she tried to speak to Tom.
‘Please don’t stand on the doorstep. Do you want to come in?’ she asked.
‘I’d love to.’
Tom followed Clara into the kitchen where she searched for a vase while trying to tighten up the string on her jogging bottoms. Most of her vases were already packed and ready to go to Cambridge, so finding one was proving tricky.
‘Maybe I should pop the flowers in the sink for now. Can I get you a coffee?’
