The Healing of Broken Souls

Chapter 7

The next morning, we drove inland until the terrain levelled out and became more agricultural. There were several sunflower fields in the area and I was hoping one of them might have been harvested recently.  Hemipodes were supposed to love stubble fields.

Our luck was in and we came across a cropped field before the sun had risen. I pulled onto a wide verge separating the field from the road and we sat in the Landy, our binoculars at the ready.

Half an hour later I caught a fleeting glimpse of something pecking around in the stubble and, for the briefest of moments, thought it was a hemipode. I snatched up my binoculars.

"What is it?" my father said, peering in the same direction.

"Nothing," I admitted. "Just a sandgrouse. I thought, for a second ..."

"Never mind, Michael. Remember the old saying ... all things come to those who wait."

"That's very true," I said and discretely switched my voice recorder on.

"Why don't you carry on with your story about you and Clara in Oxford?" I suggested.

"Okay," he agreed, and took a few seconds to gather his thoughts.

#

"As I was saying, Michael, we were gloriously happy. The only time we spent apart was when I went home for a couple of days at Christmas. That was the Christmas of 1966. I'd made excuses not to go home for my vacations between terms all that year. I told my parents I had extra lectures or was sitting in on court sessions. I didn't want to leave Clara even for two days, but my mother would have been terribly upset if I hadn't gone. I was an only child."

"Couldn't you have taken Clara with you?" I interjected.

"We thought about it, but I hadn't told my parents about Clara. I was sure my father would have ordered me to stop wasting my time with girls and concentrate on my studies. He'd lectured me about the dangers of 'sowing my wild oats' as he put it before I left for Oxford. He was what you would call 'old school'. Very conservative."

"Your father could 'order' you to do things?"

"He was paying me a monthly allowance while I was at University and he was very strict. I was afraid he'd cut me off without a penny if I went against his wishes. We both decided it was better not to rock the boat and, anyway, we were back together for the New Year's celebrations.

That second year was even better than the first. We were in the middle of the 'swinging sixties'. There were parties nearly every weekend and, if there was no party, we'd go into London, to the theatre, or a pop concert. We saw The Beatles, The Rolling Stones ... all the big groups. Our life was hectic, Michael. We were burning the candle at both ends, and then one day it all caught up with Clara.

We'd been to a party on a Saturday night and slept late on Sunday morning, but Clara was still exhausted. She could hardly get out of bed. Of course, we both thought she'd simply overdone it and just needed a rest. But Sundays were our only full day together and she insisted that we go and do something special. We went to an art gallery and while we were there Clara said she couldn't see the paintings properly and that she had double vision. I tried to lead her to a seat, but she had difficulty putting one foot in front of the other. I had to half-carry her so she could sit down. After about half an hour she began to recover but said she felt very weak. I took her straight home and put her to bed. She couldn't keep her eyes open. 

On Monday morning she had to get up to open the launderette but she said she felt better. We put it down to burnout because of our lifestyle and took it as a warning to slow things down. So we cut down on the late nights and made sure we both got enough sleep. But a few weeks later  it happened again."

"Didn't she see a doctor?"

"No, the second time she only had double vision, so she went to an optician. An eye test found nothing wrong. Clara had 20/20 vision and didn't need spectacles. But she'd been doing a lot of reading, and the optician suggested it might be down to tired eyes, or reading in a poor light. So, we bought brighter light bulbs and then forgot all about it.

The funny thing was, when we stopped running around like a pair of maniacs, we became even closer. We spent hours just sitting and talking about our hopes and dreams. We had so much in common. We both wanted to get out of the city and live in a country cottage with a couple of kids and a labrador.  And I knew our dream could be a reality when I'd earned my law degree.  I decided then that I wanted to spend my life with Clara, so I went out and bought a diamond engagement ring, and asked her to marry me."

"I didn't know students could afford diamond engagement rings in those days," I remarked.

"They couldn't, but I'd been saving money from my allowance. Clara's flat came with her job so I had no rent to pay."

"Lucky you," I said.

I was being ironic, but he took my comment at face value.

"Yes, I thought I was the happiest person on the planet when Clara accepted my proposal. But my happiness soon ran out. Clara and I had no clue how our lives were going to change and spiral out of control."

"You mean because of her illness?"

"No, it started to change before her illness became a huge problem, but I think I've said enough for today, Michael. Some of the things that happened I've tried my best to forget. This is bringing it all back as if it were yesterday."

"Okay," I shrugged. "Patience is one of my few virtues."

I started the Landy and drove home, speculating on what could have possibly happened to turn my father's world upside down, but I had to wait until the next day to find out.