Lizzie's List (14 page)

Feeling bleak, mournful and in shock, we sit around mum’s kitchen table nursing the lukewarm tea sitting at the bottom of our china mugs – left to go cold, because none of us really feels like eating or drinking. It seems to be the only useful thing I can do right now – make cups of tea. How can we deal with this? How will we get through this?

By the time I got to the hospital it was too late; dad had already passed away. I found Mark and Mum in a family room looking ashen, and I knew the result before Mark opened his mouth to tell me the tragic news.

Mark and I slept at Mum’s last night. I can’t call it mum and dad’s house now; that thought alone tears out my soul. This morning we all just sit staring at nothing, still in total shock. That’s the hard part – none of us ever suspected it. My perfect, kind, unassuming dad has gone and I can’t quite believe that yet. I keep expecting him to walk in through the door at any moment asking for tea and scones or for somebody to tell me it’s some sort of mistake, sick joke–anything, but face the bitter reality of what’s happened.

The days that follow, seem like a never ending rollercoaster of terrible emotions ranging from despair to shock to numbness. Mum is coping well, although I don’t feel that reality has hit her yet, so Mark and I are staying with her. She is busying herself with funeral arrangements – anything to take her mind from the truth; that her loving husband is dead.

James has been great and has paid me many visits at Mum’s, but realistically I need to be there for Mum and there is little he can do apart from hold me – which he does–often. Tabitha equally does her best for Mark and all of us. Kate of course, holds the fort whilst I take all the time I need away from the business. All these people are helping us, when in actual fact, I know they loved my dad in their own way and are grieving too.

The funeral was something we just had to get through in my mind, until I saw my dad’s coffin arrive at the church. This is the point, when what has happened suddenly hit me with a force I never knew. My dad was lying in the coffin, and I would never see him again. How can he die on us? As we followed him up the aisle, I realised that he would never walk anywhere with me again, never do anything with me again and I miss him so, so much.

People hug me, drinks are drunk and food is eaten. People comment on the lovely service, but I don’t hear, see or become aware of anything as I am enclosed within my own realisation that after that day we would all have to carry on without him. I already missed him unbearably.

The day after the funeral is when Mum finally cracks, as grief pours and pours from her like non-stop water from a burst pipe – violent tears, shuddering, heart-felt sobbing. I find myself rising to the role of the parent trying to comfort her and make sure she eats and gets through the day.

In the days that follow, the tears have reduced, but she goes through the day in a sort of trance as if her feelings are so badly hurt, she can’t feel anything anymore.

As the weeks pass, we all try to get back to normal or some level of normality. Mark and I take turns to visit mum, offering her a bed should she want to stay with us. She always declines, preferring to stay in her own home, where she feels closest to Dad.

Note to Self

1. No amount of worry ever changed tomorrow. Write this down and remember Dad’s advice so that I never forget.
   

Now early December, and Mum is going away with her Golden Girls, who have all rallied around her brilliantly, dragging her to various places, perhaps desperately trying to show mum that she has friendship no matter what. It’s still very early days and everything is a first, her first week without dad, then her first month, and now her first trip away, without Dad to be waiting there on her return. Having said that, I feel confident that her friends will ensure she’s okay – as much as she can be.

Whilst I was driving home from work today, a thought or urge suddenly hit me, causing me to drive far too fast because of my need to get home to make plans – fast!

First, I call Kate because I am going to need even more time off, which is possible now we have additional staff, and also there is the fact that Kate has been and still is the most supportive friend ever.

Second, as soon as I get home, I go online and make a reservation. Following this, I pack my overnight bag. The final thing I need to do–is call on James to tell him what I’m doing and where I’m going, especially after my anger at him for telling me about his France visit by text.

Number eight on my list has been causing me some debate after Tabitha brought it up in the pub. I wasn’t sure where I should visit and had been trying to think of maybe visiting somewhere very remote like the Outer Hebrides. I even considered asking James if he’d like to come with me, but today the answer became clear – like a vision. I need to visit the Lake District, for my Dad, and I need to go right now. I can’t explain why it can’t wait; I just need to go. He never went there and wanted to, so I’m going to go and take him with me in my heart. I still feel as though he’s with me and talk to him regularly, so I’ll take him there – in spirit.

When I arrive at James’, there is an unfamiliar car outside. It’s 4.30pm so it is dark already. As I walk up the path, I notice movement through his living room window and because the curtains undrawn, I am able to make out the shape of two people through the window. Getting closer, my heart stops momentarily, as I see James embracing a woman in his arms, stroking her cheek and gently moving her hair behind her ear, whilst her head is resting on his shoulder. His tender touch is plainly evident as he continues to caress her face. Watching, trance-like, unable to move my legs, I keep watching for several minutes observing the scene hoping that my eyes are playing trick upon me or that I am imagining this scene.

My world and the bubble of happiness protecting me have crashed again for the second time in less than a month. Unable to think straight, but knowing what I saw, I flee to my car, quickly turn on the ignition and head north as fast as I can, in a state of tearful confusion.

My thoughts are jumping to and fro, like an angry fly trapped in a glass desperate to escape the torture of entrapment. Firstly my dad dies and now my boyfriend is seeing another woman. Battling with this, part of me is still debating whether I imagined it because James has told me he loves me. Our relationship has felt so real, that I can’t believe he could hold another woman like that; however, the scene I’ve just witnessed was too loving for there not to be something between him and her. I’ve been very distracted recently and not myself, but for good reason. If he can’t stand by me at a time like this, then I don’t want him! His closeness to this woman was too much to be just a friend – I know what I saw.

By 8.30pm, I finally arrive at my hotel, The Wordsworth, in a village called Grasmere. After checking in and finding my room, I collapse into bed and cry myself to exhaustion before finally falling into a fitful sleep.

The following morning, I wake up and momentarily forget what’s happened, until I take in my surroundings and the memories rush back like as swing about to return to you after you’ve made such an effort to push it away. I am determined to make this trip about my dad and part of my grieving process, despite feeling upset and angry with James. How can this man who I put my trust in fail me at a time like this? The man I thought I knew has let me down, and as much as it hurts me, I tell myself that I don’t need him. I will see the Lake District for my dad and I will find some element of comfort for me and enjoyment for him. James is locked away in my mind to deal with at another time.

When I check my phone, I notice a text and missed call from James, but choose to ignore them simply because I can’t deal with him right now – this is about my dad.

Struggling to find an appetite, I hesitantly fill my mouth with thick chunks of bacon and surprisingly find that I am actually hungry, not having eaten anything since lunchtime yesterday. Looking at the maps I bought for dad as I eat, I wonder about what Dad would have liked to do if he was here. After a few moments of reflection, I decide that Dad would want to see panoramic mountainous views for miles and miles, so climbing a mountain seems the obvious choice.

As you know, I love maps and have read a lot about the Lakes District before I selected those I gave to my dad for his birthday. Pondering over the information, I narrow down the exact mountain to climb. Being by myself, I want to climb something manageable within a few hours. Finally, I decide to climb a small mountain called Loughrigg Fell, which I can walk to from Grasmere village; it seems to tick all the boxes.

Before I start my walk, I remember more of Dad’s advice about always telling somebody where you are going, so I call Kate. Her phone goes straight to voicemail, so I leave a message briefly explaining what I saw at James’, where I am, where I’m heading, and that I’ll text her when I get back to the hotel.

The walk starts in Grasmere village and soon takes me along the road out of the village for quite some time until a path connects the road to the lake, where I then continue along the lakeside path towards the foot of Loughrigg Fell. Grasmere’s lake is still and calm, so that the mountains’ images are reflected in it like a mirror. For the first time in weeks, I start to feel at peace as I block out all of my sad and angry feelings, and I truly feel that dad is with me – as if he’s standing next to me admiring the reflection of the mountains in the water. It’s like I know what he would be thinking and feeling at this very moment. I am not sure if you can understand or if it sounds silly that my dad is with me, but if you’ve ever experienced the loss of a loved one, maybe you’ll understand what I mean.

As I reach the end of the lake, I decide to take in the view, which I photograph on my phone and text to Kate. A bleeping indicates a message that Kate has sent, worrying about me, so I text to say I’m okay. More bleeps show that I have several messages from James, causing me to switch off my phone again, so I’m not tempted to listen. At some point I’ll need to face the truth with James, but right now I don’t want to be taken away from this moment with Dad.

This appears to be a popular mountain to climb because I pass many people coming the opposite way, cheerily encouraging me on. Knowing that Dad would have loved this camaraderie between walkers, I smile properly for the first time in weeks. The ascent is fairly steep, but quick, and I am at the top in little over an hour. The views are simply fabulous, overlooking the lake and numerous surrounding mountains, which remain reflected in its stillness. This is the perfect spot for lunch and I know this is where Dad would open his egg and cress sandwiches, which I also brought for my lunch – being his favourite.

Standing up, I take in the view one last time imprinting it on my memory, before heading back down. Being so high up, I feel a gentle breeze causing a fluttering in my hair and a tingling in my cheeks. If I had a mirror now, no doubt they’d be rosy with the cold. What would Dad think if he were here now – I need to remember this moment and how he might have felt up here. He would have said something about always appreciating the simple pleasures in life. He would look at this view and be overwhelmed by the simplicity of the beauty of nature not feeling the cold against his skin, loving the fact that it costs absolutely nothing.

As I head back towards the lake, having descended back down the mountain, the afternoon sun has reached its peak and in another two hours it will be dusk. It will take another hour to get back, so I will have time to have a look around the shops in Grasmere village – perhaps buy a few gifts as a thank you for people who have been so good to me recently.

Continuing towards a small wooded area alongside the lake, I see a fellow walker heading towards me, which seems strange because most people have headed in the opposite direction towards Grasmere. Lost in my thoughts I don’t pay much more attention until the figure stops right in front of me – it’s James!

Notes to Self

1. Note down Dad’s advice = Appreciate and get joy from natural beauty; it’s free and you have access to it no matter how much money you earn.
   

Quickly striding towards me as if on a mission, yet looking tired and worried, James says, “Lizzie! Thank god you’re okay – why haven’t you returned my messages? I’ve called you so many times and I’ve been worried about you!” James now looks as if he is torn between two emotions, one being anger and the other relief, as he circles me like a predator contemplating what to do with its prey, whilst running his hands through his thick, curly hair.

“Well you didn’t look too worried the last time I saw you!” I shout, desperately trying to hold back my tears, which have suddenly appeared after feeling so calm. The emotions I’ve locked away somewhere inside me since last night, surface and I feel angry with him for hurting me. Not wanting him near to me, with the returning memory of his caressing another woman’s face causing me pain, I stride past him towards the tree-lined path running along the edge of the lake.

Within less than three strides, James has grabbed my arm determinedly preventing me from moving farther away, “And what’s that supposed to mean? Lizzie, I don’t understand why you’re upset with me – what have I done?” James asks with a slightly raised and confused tone to his voice. By now the area is deserted, as the remaining light is slowly starting to fade and most sensible walkers are on their way back towards home.

“How did you know where to find me?” I ask, as it suddenly dawns on me that I haven’t told James where I was going and thinking that Kate must have let me down. “Did Kate tell you where I was?” I shake off his strong hand as it is making my skins burn from his touch even through my jacket, but this time with anger–not lust.

“Yes she did. After you didn’t return any calls or reply to any texts, I went over to your flat and found it empty. I then called your mum to see if she knew anything and in the process, I disturbed her break away with her friends. In desperation, I called Mark, who didn’t know anything and is now wondering why you’ve disappeared, especially as you are so devastated over your dad. Finally I called Kate, and she told me you were upset and had come up here. I worked out exactly where you where from the photo you sent to her,” James explains, angrily animated in his movements, as he relays the story.

“I can’t believe she told you where I was,” I say completely annoyed.

“Lizzie, she was worried about you and I think relieved that I told her I intended to come up here and find you. She wanted to come herself, but with two cafes to run, whilst you’re away – you left her little option, but to tell me. Please can you just tell me what’s wrong–what have I done to upset you?” James asks as he steps towards me grasping my arms and searching my face for clues about my thoughts. He looks so sincere that my internal battle plays up again, but before I can allow him any positive space in my mind, I yank my arms away – I can’t look at him!

“Just leave me alone James. I can’t deal with this right now,” I plead as I quickly stomp down the track to get some distance between us, but before I get far, he’s beside me again pinning me up against a tree with his arms either side of my body and his palms flat against the solid tree trunk being careful not to actually touch me in my obvious state of emotion. “Let me go, James!”

“No Lizzie – I’m not letting you go until you tell me what exactly is wrong and what I have done to make you behave like this!” Tears start to build up, and my eyes are just about holding them in place – one brief blink will have them spilling down my face like rainwater down a window pane. “Please tell me what I’ve done to upset you,” James says quietly, softening as if his fight has gone now that he’s seen my genuine upset.

I take a deep breath to collect my racing thoughts, deciding that I want the truth and I also want answers from him about what I saw last night. “Well I wanted to come up here...” That’s all I could say before the sobbing started – long gulping sobs – the ones where you have to take really deep breaths between. Feeling angry with myself for letting James see me cry, I don’t want him near me, but at the same time am torn and am desperate for his strong, loving embrace to comfort me. He is careful to keep some distance between us, but still has me trapped securely between his arms, whilst he patiently waits for me to calm down. I try to speak again, with my sentences punctuated by deep shuddering breaths: “I told you how my dad had never been to the Lakes and wanted to visit it one day... but never got the chance ... and then yesterday ... I realised that for the task on my list about visiting somewhere .... I needed to come here for Dad and for me to feel close to him. It’s kind of like I’m completing my own task, but also completing his wish too.”

“Oh Lizzie, I wished you’d said and I could have come up here with you. You shouldn’t be here on your own. I could have helped you and I’d have given you space if you wanted to be alone.” He says this with what seems to be genuine love in his eyes and I am close to falling into his arms, but need to know the truth from him about the woman, so I remain where I am.

“I was going to tell you. I went to your house last night, but when I got to the living room window, I saw you with another woman!” As I say this, the pent up emotion from today’s thoughts and memories about Dad and my uncertainty over James, cause me to let out another howling sob. With it comes a huge string of snot that was accumulating in my nostrils makes itself present. James passes me a hankie, which makes me even more annoyed that I cannot even be angry with him, without him coming to my rescue. But at the same time I cannot refuse his offer and stand there with snot dripping down my face – I still have some dignity.

“I’m still not getting this Lizzie. Yes I was with a woman – what’s wrong with that?” he asks looking perplexed, which is totally the wrong way for him to look right now. All tears quickly evaporate like water in a hot dessert and my now snot-free nostrils flare in disgust.

“What’s wrong with you being with another woman? Are we in the same relationship–on the same planet even? I can’t believe you think it’s okay to caress another woman when you are supposed to love me!” I shout at him, thankful that we are totally alone, without any audience.

“Caress? What do you mean caress? Now I’ve no idea what you are talking about.”

“So you deny it then, that you caressed another woman’s face – you were embraced together and you were all over her, practically sucking her face off!” At this point, I am becoming slightly hysterical, until I see James face turn from confusion to a smug smile, causing my silence from the total shock that he has the audacity to smile about this.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, he calmly, but angrily replies, “I was not sucking her face off, but yes I was hugging her and probably did at some point hold her face in a tender way. However, had you bothered to knock on the door or even ask me about her rather than jump to conclusions and run away here, I would have told you that the woman in question ... was my sister.” Slowly digesting this information, the feeling of anger is replaced by discomposure as reality sinks in and the knowledge that I mistrusted this man, who has dropped everything and driven for three hours to find me and check that I am okay. James in full stream continues, “In fact, had you bothered to open the door with your own key, that I gave you, so you could enter my home at any moment without warning, I would have gladly introduced you to her. Incidentally, she’s dying to meet you, having heard so much about you from me, especially when I have never told her so much about any of my previous girlfriends. I would have also explained that the reason I was comforting my sister in such a way, was that her idiot of a husband has been having an affair. Understandably, she is very upset and needed some comfort from her brother.”

James pauses from his rant and looks directly into my eyes and I can see he is angry and hurt. “Lizzie I can’t believe that you thought I was cheating on you and that you obviously don’t trust me at all. You didn’t even give me the chance to know what I was supposed to have done or even speak to you on the phone – what does that say about us?” James’ tirade keeps me silent as I take in what he’s just said; any remaining anger has completely dripped away from my body and been replaced by shame from the realisation that I didn’t trust him or even give him a chance to explain.

Staring at each other, both lost in our thoughts, unsure where to go or what to say next, I place my shaky hands on his firm chest and stare into his eyes, which look wounded, yet black with anger. I’ve never seen him so enraged before. His usually calm persona has disappeared. How could I believe he was cheating on me so easily, without giving him a chance to explain what was only an innocent incident. With that, he dropped everything and came to find me to make sure that I was okay. I search for the right words to use, but there is only one I can find. “Sorry – I’m really sorry,” I say as more sniffling sobs explode from me like a firework that won’t stop. It’s like this is unlocking unshed tears since dad’s death. He sighs deeply and I can only see the top of his head, with him still staring down at the floor as if trying to control his anger. My heart beats quickly as I await his response, unsure of what his next steps will be and afraid that I may well have blown it.

After what seems like an hour, he lifts his head and slowly brings his eyes up to meet mine, whilst I try to read his thoughts. Hope lifts my spirits slightly as I notice some of the darkness in his eyes has gone and his expression, although intense, appears to show some love. Suddenly, he pulls me into his arms, leaving me feeling secure and loved – and perhaps a little unworthy of this right now.

“What am I going to do with you Lizzie? I’m finding it difficult to be angry with you, but you don’t understand how worried about you I was. Don’t ever do that to me again – not being able to contact you drove me crazy – please don’t do that again,” he says as he gently rubs my back with one hand and softly strokes my hair with the other understanding that my emotions are all over the place since my dad’s death.

“I’m sorry. I just saw you with another woman and the thought of it made me freak out. I wasn’t in the best frames of mind as it was, and then I felt like another man in my life had let me down after feeling like my dad let me down and ....” I break off as I admit something to James that I have been too ashamed to say before. “I know it’s unfair – Dad couldn’t help dying, but I didn’t want him to die so soon, and I feel let down by him. Do you think I’m a horrible person for feeling like that?” I ask seeking his approval.

James’ hug tightens slightly and with another deep sigh, he replies, “No Lizzie – you’ve had a devastating shock and you’re grieving. I am sure there will be many different thoughts going through your head and feelings within your heart–they may change with time. You’re not horrible – you just loved your dad very much – that’s not horrible.” As he says this, I feel relieved at finally admitting this to somebody. Changing the subject, James continues, “Listen–I love you Lizzie and I’m certainly not going anywhere – except perhaps back to the hotel if you don’t mind. It’s freezing and starting to go dark.” I glance over his shoulder and notice the dimming light, slightly startled at how long we must have been here, yet feeling more secure in his arms than I have felt for some time.

Eventually James breaks the hug and kisses me briefly on the lips before saying, “Come on, we’d best get back. Can I stay with you tonight at your hotel? I’ll go if you need space and see you back home, but I can stay if you want me to– I’ve sorted out cover for tomorrow at the centre.” We turn and walk along the remainder of the lakeside path, hand in hand.

“Please stay with me tonight. Thanks for coming up here and I love you too, by the way.”

“Oh–I know you do! And the first thing we’re doing tomorrow morning – well may be the second thing, if you’re up for making mad passionate love first – is buy you some proper walking boots. Lizzie I can’t believe you actually climbed a mountain in those red wellies – no wonder Kate was worried about you. Not only is that incredibly dangerous ....” I stopped listening to his outdoor instructor safety spiel by his second sentence. Having now calmed down, I think myself lucky to have this man in my life. Smiling to myself, I allow him continue droning on about the importance of grip and ankle support – or something like that anyway.

Notes to Self

1. Start to carry tissues, especially as I am quite emotional at the moment. I do not want to repeat my snot incident. James must really, really love me!
   
2. Try not to jump to conclusions in future.
   
3. Don’t wear red wellies for mountaineering or risk another very, very long lecture of appropriate footwear for.