The grass in the grounds was deep green. It was lush. I’d seen nothing like it in Sydney where dry conditions and strict water restrictions had taken their toll on our flora. This was perfect.
I made my way back to bed. I felt cold under the covers. This time, if I fall asleep, it’s OK, I thought. Everyone wants me to rest; it was doctor’s orders, so I might as well.
I still couldn’t comprehend that within the space of a couple of hours of arriving, I had hurt myself, damaged my room door, disturbed Dr Simons’ relaxing walk, scared Jules, ruined her planned itinerary and had the principal tending to me in my room.
Mr James Barclay…
I didn’t know what to make of my reaction to him; I don’t ever remember feeling so awkward in a man’s company before. And I still can’t understand why he was so familiar to me.
How will I cope with him around me? The feeling in my body when I was in his arms was unexplainable. I’m really at risk of making a total fool of myself.
Why had this man made such an impression on me?
I continued to think about him and how ridiculous he must think I am.
There was one thing that was weighing heavily on my mind. Why had he called me ‘Catherine’ instead of ‘Miss White’? I had clearly heard him call Jules ‘Miss Kent’.
I lay down for a couple of hours, with the pain still throbbing lightly in my head. After what seemed like an eternity of procrastination, I decided it was time to leave my room and try and make a better impression second time around. I got out of bed, had a quick look in the mirror and assessed the damage to my head. All in all, I looked decent enough to leave the room. I put my boots and blazer back on and left. Down the hallway and down the flight of stairs, I reached the main entrance at the middle building where I had originally entered with Jules.
I wasn’t really sure where to go from here. That tour Jules had mentioned earlier would have come in very handy right about now. I tried to listen out for any sounds of activity, but there was nothing. Not a sound. I walked about the foyer area and was intrigued. Hundreds of trophies for polo, cricket and other sports filled shelves in the dark timber and glass cabinets. It was obvious that this school was not only academically focused. The main office was unattended; it was elegant, not like any office I had seen before. A crystal vase containing a spectacular flower arrangement sat on the desk. The furniture was antique, impressive and stylish. The walls were almost completely covered in portraits of important-looking people from different eras. I looked closely at every face, as though I was trying to recognise someone. They were all men, very serious-looking, old and dull. The last picture in the series made me smile. It was Mr Barclay, looking perfect.
“Hmm! Can I help you?” said a voice from behind me.
“Huh? Um… Oh, sorry I’m sort of lost,” I replied, sounding like a three-year-old lost in a supermarket.
“I see!” Came the reply from a very, very short man.
“Where should you be?” he asked.
“Well nowhere really. I mean, I am trying to see if there is a common room for the teachers,” I hesitantly answered.
“Ah, I knew it! You’re the new teacher from Australia, Cathy!” he declared, still with no sign of warmth or welcome.
Whoever he is, I don’t like him already.
“Yes, I am, but my name is Catherine, if you don’t mind.”
“Catherine? Is that right? Well Catherine, how did you find your room? Was it to your satisfaction?” he questioned as he reluctantly put out his hand for me to shake.
“I am Mr Kemp, science teacher.”
Ah, that makes sense. Jules had said that she had made Mr Kemp move out of his room so I could be near her and he obviously wasn’t happy about it.
Mr Kemp stood less than five feet tall, stumpy and old. He was wearing every shade of brown imaginable, from his shoes to his thick ugly glasses. His moustache was long and thin and what little hair he had he had tried, somewhat unsuccessfully, to spread out evenly over his shiny head. After I had shaken his small, sweaty hand he turned around and told me to follow him. He walked so fast with his stumpy little legs; the pace was such that I could have sworn he was trying his best to lose me. Plus, I’m sure he went the long, confusing way just to put me off. He didn’t give me a chance to look at anything that we passed. Every so often he would turn and look at me with his beady eyes, checking if I was still keeping pace.
After several minutes of following him, I heard voices. We were finally there. Grumpy Mr Kemp picked up his speed just at the end. I guess he wanted to enter the room on his own. I started to walk a little faster and caught up to him so that we were now walking alongside each other. He wasn’t happy about that. ‘Mr Grumpy’ was out of breath. Not impressed that I altered his plans, he gave me a stern look.
“Thank you Mr Kemp. It was lovely to meet you.” He didn’t reply and with a deep grunt he walked away from me. I still didn’t know where I was exactly.
What exactly is this room? What if Jules or the doctor weren’t here? The room is full and they are all men? Where are you Jules?
Looking around at the deep brown furniture, everything seemed so masculine; from the leather chesterfields to the black wing chairs. Sets of these chairs and lounges were placed around timber tables, each set providing a place for five to six people. A beautiful black and white veined marble fireplace sat at one end of the room, the flames naturally heating the room. It was a formal setting in a casual and social style. But it wasn’t until I sighted a coffee machine and other appliances that I realised it was the college common room.
I tried to walk in as naturally and as confidently as I could, but it wasn’t easy. I really felt out of place and it was making me feel quite self-conscious. I could now clearly see that Jules wasn’t here and that I would have to share a table with someone I didn’t know.
Oh my! I seem to be receiving some attention now!
“Catherine!”
I stopped and turned around immediately. Standing there was Mr Barclay, positioned beside an empty chair. I smiled shyly and started to walk towards him. I made my way slowly through the crowd. He was taller than I remembered and he smiled as I approached him. I ran my fingers through my hair and pulled it back from my face. I looked up again at him. At that point I had a strange feeling of déjà vu. My heart felt like it was on fire and it took every inch of self-control not to put my arms around him. I didn’t want to lose total control of myself. I could feel my smile fading and my legs trembling as I got closer to him. The déjà vu feeling became stronger. I felt as though I had lived this moment before.
“Hello… please,” he said, pointing to the empty seat next to him.
“Thank you.”
I had a quick look around the room and took a deep breath before sitting down, still in a daze, my attention on him now.
“How are you feeling?” he asked with a soft, secretive voice.
“I’m fine, my door and I have called a truce,” I replied.
“That is excellent to hear,” he whispered back with a wide smile on his face.
“I gather you have already met Mr Kemp,” he whispered.
“Mr Kemp? Hmmm, well let’s just say, I don’t think he likes me, and he would have been proud of his door if he knew of today’s events.”
We both broke into a quiet laughter.
“Mr Kemp is one of a kind, that’s for sure.”