“What do you mean?”
“Well now that Mr Cartwright is off limits, those women are not going to leave Mr Barclay alone!”
I smiled against my will. I was dumbfounded. Minutes ago I thought I was doing it tough. What I wouldn’t give to go back to minutes ago.
“I have to go,” I said, getting up abruptly.
“Oh, alright. Talk soon…” Jules yelled from across the room.
I had to find James to let him know what was going on, before anyone else did.
I went to his office and then his room, but he wasn’t there.
Where could he be?
I sat on his bed for a minute, until there was a knock on the door.
“It’s Mr Kemp! Open the door please.”
Against my better judgement I opened the door.
“Cathy? What are you doing here?” Mr Kemp said. I could feel the hatred in his voice instantly.
“Mr Kemp, now is not a good time. If you don’t mind, I have to find James,” but he ignored me, coming into James’s room and closing the door behind him.
“Mr Barclay is not on the school grounds, he had to leave,” he said while he looked around the room, avoiding eye contact with me.
“You told him, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t have to, everyone is talking about it. Mr Barclay is a great man, a man who I highly respect and will protect.”
“I’m sorry — I just don’t get you. You’re here now helping us, but I know you hate me. You say you care about us and are protective of James and you know that he loves me, yet you are constantly advising him against being with me. Why?” I asked interested.
Mr Kemp stopped pacing the room and came towards me, “I don’t hate you and I do want to see Mr Barclay happy, but both of you being safe is of greater importance!
“How are you even involved? I know there’s something between James and I that is incredible, but what about you? Why does James turn to you for advice, how are you a part of all of this?”
“You’re just not trying hard enough!”
“That’s not my fault, nothing makes sense! I think about what’s happened and why, but I always hit a wall; I don’t know what I am suppose to know or remember. I’m scared; there is nothing I want more than to put an end to this all, and to be with James. Please… help me figure it out.”
“I can’t — it’s not how it works. I don’t make the rules!”
“What rules? Who makes the rules?”
I grabbed his arm, something I could have never imagined myself doing.
“Please, please I’m begging you… Help me. I’m losing everything. I love him with all my heart and I’m being punished for that. Please, give me one more chance. If things aren’t clearer to me… I will back away, but help me”
Mr Kemp walked away, shaking his head, troubled by my questions.
“It’s just the way it is,” he said. “James should have never let you come, I warned him. I knew it would end badly. I prayed that you would be oblivious to it all, which you are, but I didn’t count on you falling for him so strongly and being so obstinate.”
“Mr Kemp… are you saying that you and James knew that all of this was going to happen before I came?”
“No, not all of it, especially not your dangerous encounters. Mr Barclay would never have put you in harm’s way, but he was so desperate to have you. He went against my advice and look where we are.”
“Help me! I beg you. Please, help me. Is there anything, anything that you can think of, that can help me figure this out?”
He didn’t answer me, instead walking towards the window and staring out for a moment, which seemed promising. If I have learnt anything about Mr Kemp, it’s that he speaks his mind and can’t be moved. The fact he hadn’t said no must mean there is something he could tell me, but he isn’t sure if he should.
He turned back, going to James’s desk, and writing something on a piece of paper.
“Grab your coat, I want to take you somewhere,” he ordered, shaking his head, mumbling to himself.
I jumped off the bed, grabbed a coat before he could change his mind and we left the room.
Mr Kemp’s car was a very old run-down black Bentley; it was dirty and looked like it hadn’t been driven since the 1920s. I tried to keep a straight face, as he adjusted his seat, seat belt, mirrors and everything else. Finally we were off. He drove unexpectedly fast, which reminded me of Richard driving slowly so the journey would last longer. Mr Kemp, I guess must be trying to reduce our time together.
I didn’t talk while he was driving; he seemed nervous and easily distracted. I wondered where we could be going. For all I knew, he could be taking me to the airport. But I had no choice, I felt as if I was losing James and I needed to take whatever help I could get, even if it was from Mr Kemp.
After a while longer the car began to slow, I immediately took my seat belt off and impatiently waited for Mr Kemp. He noticed my eagerness and rolled his eyes at me.
I got out of the car before he had a chance to turn the ignition off.
“Where are we?”
“Follow me,” he replied, disregarding my question.
So I did. The street we walked down was extremely traditional and seemed to be an affluent area. His walkgradually slowed and he started to walk beside me. He didn’t look at me, or speak a word. It seemed he was unsure of what to say.
“Is something supposed to happen?” I whispered sarcastically.
Still not speaking, Mr Kemp slowed right down and headed to a bench to sit.
“You continue down the street, I will catch up with you, I want to sit for awhile,” he said as he sat down.
”Walk where?” I am sure he could see the disappointment on my face. I turned around with a huff and continued up the street.
Stupid man, why did I believe that he was going to help me?
I stopped and turned back to see him lying back on the bench with his eyes closed.
I waited a second, contemplating whether I should continue or go back to the old smelly cigar car. Even though I was disappointed, and there was nothing here for me, I was in no rush to be in the car alone with him.
I decided to continue. A few minutes into my walk, a terrace across the street caught my attention. It was white with a battered dark-blue door. Intrigued, I crossed over for a better look. It didn’t seem to be occupied, newspapers stuck on the windows and spider webs on the rails made this house stick out for all the wrong reasons. As I stood on the path, I felt an icy-cold chill go through my body and a bitter taste fill my mouth. I pushed opened the iron gate which let out a ear splitting screech and headed towards the door, passing a small overgrown courtyard on my way. As I approached the door I became apprehensive. It had two glass panels that weren’t covered; I slowly brought my face close to the glass. The hallway was long and without light with papers on the floor and furnishings covered with sheets. Then without warning, the door started to shudder. I immediately let go of the door knob unable to pull myself away, I continued to peer through the glass until what seemed like a face slammed itself into the other side of the glass. I pushed myself away from the door in horror and ran back to the path to catch my breath. My heart was racing.
What in God’s name just happened?
I crossed over the road and quickly started heading back to the car, where I hoped Mr Kemp was. I wanted to get out of this place. As I approached the car, I could hear shouting. Unexpectedly James was now in sight.
“James!” What was he doing here?
“What were you thinking, bringing her here?” James shouted at Mr Kemp.