There are two stories submitted in recent weeks that share the same title. Both tales concern a reunion; both are true but unconnected through the space and time continuum. I felt that each episode, because they occupied an equally important phase in my tumultuous life, they deserved the same title.
The setting
A little over twelve months ago I tragically lost my wife and two-month-old son in a motor vehicle accident. My young family was returning home after spending a relaxing Sunday with my in-laws, the weather was atrocious with the sheeting rain reducing visibility to within a few meters. The Mitchell Freeway was surprisingly light since most sensible people decided it was better to shelter in doors rather than risk the Indian Ocean elements that occasionally batter the West Australian capital of Perth. The one unknown variable involved in an otherwise ordinary Sunday was the desperate drug addict driving the stolen Holden Commodore. Three Police units were in pursuit but this spurred the young desperado onto further recklessness. Narrowly escaping a ‘box-in’, the driver swerved maniacally to avoid smashing into a silver BMW 328I but instead clipped the back right hand quarter of the car causing both vehicles to spin uncontrollably in the treacherous conditions. The silver BMW, driven by my beautiful wife and containing my son, flipped over careering into two other vehicles, the forward momentum sending the wrecked car spinning into the barrier, before exploding in a fireball of hot metal. Both occupants were mercifully killed instantly before the flames erupted to paint the evening sky in a brilliant collage of orange and red. The occupants of the other cars involved were badly injured but the cause of the tragedy suffered a few cuts and bruises.
Barely two hours later I answered a ring at the front door only to be greeted by two Police officers. Both were visibly shaking, as white as ghosts and could barely speak coherently. Their manner was enough to convince me that something had gone terribly wrong during this evening of wind and rain. My whole world collapsed several sentences later and I fell to my knees in an explosion of tears and pain.
Subsequent events
Twelve months later I found myself living back with my parents in the quaint little town of Pickering in the UK. They suggested that time away from home might help me come to terms with my sorrow. By strange quirk of fate I received an invite to my ten-year Sixth Form School reunion.
One week prior to the event and during an absent-minded visit to the supermarket I literally walked straight into an old acquaintance. Emma and I go way back to the successful days of the swimming club and then later we worked together at the local pool as well as sharing several academic classes. At one Christmas party during our first year at University we almost got together except I was unable to control my alcoholic intake, completely blowing my chance by parading my stupidity. Despite that murky incident we’d remained friends until the day I moved to Australia.
You can guess what followed, questions piled upon questions, each of us sketching a brief outline of our lives over the last ten years etcetera. I was a successful stock market trader and lead singer in The Savoy Swing Katz whilst Emma was a successful trauma-surgeon. I found her personality radiant, just as I’d remembered, and was captivated by her confident bearing but there seemed to be something not adding up, something missing and whatever this was it seemed to cause a sadness that permeated her bearing. Maybe it was the same something that afflicted me? After concluding the shopping and on the verge of parting Emma suddenly asked me if I was interested in going for a drink. Strangely enough I felt a genuine desire to spend some time with this female whose beauty and aura were desperately understated.
We met several days later at a pleasant country pub where we talked and laughed easily. I discovered that Emma had recently divorced six-months prior, a typical situation with the gentleman in question being found in the arms of another women. After explaining her situation with a mixture of anger, bitterness, disappointment and sadness, she abruptly changed tact and inquired about the health of my personal life. For a second I was tempted to lie, to pretend that I never had a family but instead felt an overwhelming desire to talk. And it all came out, tumbling out without cohesion, without structure simply a deluge of emotion that was as much a surprise to me as it was for Emma. At the end of my tale an unexpected calm enveloped me as if some great weight had been lifted. As I drove Emma home, I was realised that I wanted to see her again and asked if she’d like to accompany me to the reunion. She responded immediately adding that she’d be honoured and suddenly the sun began to shine after a 12-month absence.
The reunion was actually a dinner ball requiring a tuxedo, an ensemble of clothing to which I’ve never been comfortable wearing. Despite all I did endeavor to look my best and feel relaxed but I had a knotted stomach to contend with. I arrived at the appointed time and the vision that greeted me made me violently start. Standing in front of me was Emma and an Emma the likes of which I could only imagine. Her scarlet gown looked as if it had been molded to the exact contours of her body. Being tall, athletic, lithe and voluptuous, Emma exuded natural sensuality. She was a true brunette with long luxurious hair, slightly curled and worn with the left side draped across her shoulder and the right across her face and breast. She had deep set but radiant brown eyes, a slightly aquiline nose and a generous mouth. As far as balls go Emma was dressed fairly plain but the lack of ostentatious clothing deliberately highlighted her natural assets and if ever I’d met a goddess from some ancient time it was this night.
The evening was terrible, howling wind and torrential rain that reminded me of another incident not that long ago, not the most auspicious start to the evening. The drive to the school was brief and as we parked Emma sensed my reticence and leaned over, patted my arm and offered some reassuring words before pecking me on the cheek. Someone sounding like me spoke, “Before we go in, I’d just like to offer you a token of my gratitude for the other night. You have no idea how much of a help you were. It’s strange but it actually feels like the healing process has taken a huge step forward.”
“Oh Jason, that’s fine, anytime, and you don’t have to thank me. I was just happy to be there for you.” She replied with genuine feel.
“All the same. I’d like you to accept this, purely as a gift of thanks.” And with that I produced a long, slender gift-wrapped box. Emma carefully unwrapped the gift, opened it and let out a gasp of surprise. I had purchased or rather commissioned a diamond studded, pleated white gold necklace. The gift proved to be well chosen for Emma had nothing adorning her milky white neck and I took the precaution of preparing for the inevitable barrage of protests that followed. What seems expensive to me may not necessarily be expensive to the next person and I explained that whilst the gift has immense value it falls short of the depth of my gratitude. Still more protests but I silenced her, took the gift and draped it across her neck. “Please, just wear it for tonight.” And fastened the clasp. To look at her was to look at a painting that had just received the masterstroke and she leaned into me and kissed me fully on the lips lingering for more time than was necessary. I was glad she liked it.
The ball itself was in full swing and all eyes, some of them familiar, were upon us as we made our entrance. I was deeply embarrassed and was glad that the dimly lit hall hid the crimson. The ice was quickly broken and I became a little more comfortable with myself and with my conversations. I caught up with a lot of old friends and teachers alike usually answering the same questions and to my relief, Emma constantly hovering, would whisk me away just to make sure I was ok. I was and I was feeling quite at ease that is until Emma dropped the following bombshell. “Don’t look now but behind you is someone I don’t think you should meet.” I immediately spun around unconsciously ignoring Emma’s hissed protests and exasperated groans. My gaze locked onto that of an old nemesis, Beverley. She and I had dated during our final year for about eighteen months but the split was incredibly acrimonious so much so that it led indirectly to me moving out to Australia permanently all those years ago. Beverley, surrounded by her cronies, had a look of utter disgust painted across her countenance. I turned back rather unnerved. “What have I done?” I could barely speak since all the moisture in my mouth had instantly evaporated. “I have no idea but I wouldn’t talk to her if I were you.” This I accepted as sound advice and Emma shepherded me towards another group of people where I was soon distracted by the same inane questions that had plagued me earlier. However, no matter where I was, Beverley was not too far away always fixing me with that same withering glance. Her behaviour baffled me and made me incredibly nervous, surely she wasn’t still bitter at me, after all, our relationship ended over ten-years ago and as far as I knew she had since married. It seemed that Beverley was trying to corner me intending to shower me with vitriolic abuse no doubt but luckily Emma was always buzzing around steering me away from danger.
My luck didn’t hold however, as one of my old teachers excused himself for refreshments, I turned around anxiously looking for Emma but was greeted instead by the rather cold face of Beverley. “It seems that she has deserted you in your hour of need.” Were her first acidic words.
“Hi Bev and how are you?” I replied nervously, adrenaline coursing through my veins and I silently cursed Emma for her absence. “I’m well although I’m surprised to see you. I was hoping you’d never show you’re face around here again.” Cutting like a knife.
Now it was time to fight. “That’s an odd thing to say after ten years. I would have thought you’d be over me by now after all it’s my understanding that you’re married. I’m assuming that you are still married but I’m honoured you’re still so fond of me because I got over you a long time ago. In fact I had to ask Emma earlier who that scowling demon in the corner was.” I smiled in mock amusement but cold sweat pricked my skin.
