Undying Read online

  Turning off the main road, I felt as if we were getting close. The loose gravel on the road suggested that this road was private and not regularly used. On the horizon, I could now see the building that I hoped was the college.

  “Are we here?” I asked, a little anxious.

  “Yes, we most definitely are.”

  As the car came to a halt, the driver offered to take my bags in for me, which I declined. I didn’t want to be rushed; I wanted to admire the building for a while.

  CHAPTER TWO

  How long have I been standing here for? Strange, I don’t even remember the driver leaving or saying goodbye. Maybe he did. That’s embarrassing. I must have been so taken by the grounds.

  They were exquisite.

  I closed my eyes and took in a long and deep breath. With a smile forming involuntarily, I looked at the magnificent building before me that was to be my home for the next 12 months. I did not want to rush this moment. The college was colossal.

  It was built entirely of sandstone, cathedral style, with gargoyles and sculptures adoring every corner and turret. Stunning stain-glass windows ensured privacy within and added an array of colour and beauty against the golden brown walls. The architecture was absolutely amazing and the symmetry and size of the building in height and width was breathtaking. The formal gardens surrounding the building almost outshone the building itself: mature trees and shrubs cut into perfect angular and round shapes, several shades of green lawn carpeting the grounds. So typically English!

  Not a soul was in sight, so I gathered that everyone must still be asleep. Upon closer inspection, I could see that there were three separate buildings on the grounds of the college. They were all joined on the bottom level by a glass walkway and the overall shape resembled a horseshoe. An immaculately groomed grassed area lay in the centre, stretching out for miles. It looked like a fortress. In the centre of the lawn was an incredible marble fountain. It was adorned with sculptures of mythical creatures with water sprouting from different parts, creating an extravagant water feature. Around the fountain were dark cobblestone walkways that lead to the buildings. The college was magnificent. In the centre, a large wooden board carved with the coat of arms and gilded in gold leaf on a claret-coloured backing representing the school emblem, stood proud and high in front of the building.

  I noticed from the first building to my right, a dim light was shining. It was coming from one of the windows and I wondered if I was been watched.

  Suddenly a voice rang out.

  “You’re here, you’re here. Please, you must get out of the cold! Oh, I do apologise. I wasn’t expecting you for another half an hour.”

  A strange looking lady was walking very quickly towards me.

  “Oh dear!” she exclaimed as she came to a complete stop, gasping for air. She was on the heavy side and short, with dark curly hair and porcelain white skin with a big smile plastered across her face, she wore an unflattering white dress with red stripes. A little red cardigan tightly covered her shoulders and matching shiny red ballet flats protected her feet from the cold.

  “Oh! Dear, I must say, I am quite unfit,” she admitted. Her cheeks were so rosy. As she reached me, still gasping for air, she did the unthinkable. She hugged me! It was not a gentle hug either, more of a heavy embrace that almost stopped my circulation. When she finally pulled away, she started rambling again.

  “My name is Julie Kent, but please call me Jules. We are going to be such great friends. I have organised everything. Your room is next door to mine. Mr Kemp, the science teacher, was a bit sore that he had to move down the hall but he will soon recover. You must be so tired and hungry. Are you hungry?”

  “No, I’m fine,” I replied, glad she had finally drawn breath to let me get a word in.

  “Oh, I have longed for another female teacher, and here you are, finally! I will have another woman on my side. Between you and me, some of our gentlemen teachers here were born in the dark ages and, if I may say, a bit conservative. Oh, but not our principal, James, oh I beg your pardon, Mr Barclay. We are very lucky to have him. Indeed he is younger than our last principal and one must never ask about age of course,” she said as she smiled, grabbed one of my luggage bags and started walking back through the door from whence she came.

  I immediately followed with the other bag, walking directly behind her.

  What a character! I hope I have a lock on my door…

  “Come in, come in. This is the main building, our ‘foyer’ if you like. I will take you straight to your room to settle in. I will collect you for breakfast in half an hour or so,” she asserted as she went up the stairs, recklessly banging my new suitcase on every step.

  “Miss Kent… oh, I mean Jules, I ate on the plane and am quite full,” I interrupted. I was not ready to have breakfast with everyone.

  “I see…” She sounded unconvinced. “I will take you to your room where you can unpack and freshen up, and I will come and collect you in a few hours for a tour,” she continued.

  “Perfect!” I agreed with a smile.

  Lucky for me and my bags, I only had to go up one flight of stairs for my room. The corridor was long and narrow and the lighting was dimmed. The doors spaciously spread out with stunning decorative wall lamps and beautiful artwork between every few. The doors were stained in a deep dark cedar with ornate carvings and a number in polished gold on each door.

  “Catherine dear, this is your room, number two, and I am next door to you in room number three. Our wonderful principal, Mr Barclay, is in room number one on your other side. You are completely surrounded! You can’t escape! Just teasing!” she joked, all the while laughing hysterically. She was very touchy-feely, constantly grabbing my arm, squeezing my hand and it was making me feel somewhat uncomfortable. I was only ever relaxed with my mother’s hands around me; even my few failed attempts at relationships were cut short due to my so-called lack of affection.

  Finally, Jules gave me the key to my room and a quick reminder that she would be back to collect me in a couple of hours for my tour. As soon as she was out of sight, I opened my door, took my bags in and closed the door, locking it from the inside.

  At last I was in my room and it was unbelievable. In the centre of one wall in the room stood a four-post bed with pale blue and silver linen and an abundance of differently-shaped pillows and cushions. Small timber bedside tables with four drawers sat on each side with a lamp on one. A matching freestanding cupboard stood on the other side of the room along with the most exquisite little writing desk and chair. And from the ceiling hung a beautiful chandelier. The walls were lined in a beautiful rich timber panelling on the lower side, with the upper part lavishly wallpapered and a gorgeous decorative mirror on one wall perfectly framed the reflection of the room. The door across from me was equally beautiful and, it was safe to assume, led to the bathroom.

  I half unpacked my belongings, and then went across to the window to catch a glimpse of the outlook from my new home. I looked out to the grounds. The weather was grey, but the scenery was magnificent. The deep green grassland went for miles and from here I could see the full extent of the college’s flawlessly groomed gardens that seemed to spread out for several acres. So many different shades of green blended effortlessly into the distant horizon. I gazed out the window for a while until I started to feel restless. I yawned and stretched out my arms. I took off my blazer and boots and jumped onto my bed. I felt spoilt. I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes, just to rest them. I decided to remain lying down with my eyes closed until Jules and all her enthusiasm came to collect me.

  My breathing became deep and definite. I felt my mind drift and my body admit defeat. I can’t recall ever being as exposed or as vulnerable as I am now – being in a strange country and not knowing a single soul. I am in a different environment in every way possible, yet I have never felt so at home.

  I continued to take pleasure in this feeling until my short-lived serenity and contentedness was ended by the sound o
f a door slamming nearby. I sat up quickly. It must have been Jules next door.

  Oh no, Jules! What time was it?

  I searched for my mobile phone to see, but I couldn’t find it in my half-unpacked state. I decided to just head out and see if I could find her, but for some reason the door wouldn’t open. I played around with the key, but still nothing. It seemed to be jammed. I grabbed hold of the doorknob tightly and with all my strength pulled it open.

  “Ahh!” I screamed in pain as I fell backwards to the floor, hitting the back of my head on the end of the timber bedpost, doorknob in hand. The pain shot through my head, immediately throbbing. It was unbearable, I felt sick. I held on to the back of my head, applying pressure while trying to moan quietly. With one hand on the back of my head and the other helping me crawl across the floor, I headed back to the door.

  What have I done?

  I tried to put the doorknob back in, but it was useless. The pain was forcing me to shut my eyes; I couldn’t focus enough to put it back in place. I got onto my knees and with both hands carefully attempted to fix it. I then noticed there was blood on my hand. Panicking, I accidentally pushed out the handle from the other side into the hallway, making matters worse.

  Damn it!

  Displeased with myself, I sat down on the floor in front of the door and held onto the back of my head to stop the bleeding. My cursing was interrupted by a quiet knock on the door. If the pain wasn’t going to kill me, my humiliation surely would if anyone heard or saw me right now.

  But it was too late.

  “Is everything alright?” asked a troubled voice from the other side of the door.

  “Um… Ahh… No not really… I… I can’t get out,” I admitted.

  “You wouldn’t happen to have the other side to this doorknob in there?” the voice asked, tongue-in-cheek.

  “I do!” I cried, looking into my hand.

  I turned towards the door, still on my knees, and put my side of the handle back. The mystery man put his side of the handle back too. Once the handle was functional again, the door opened slowly. I was still on the ground, and struggled to get out of the way as it opened. I was too embarrassed to face the mystery man who had just witnessed my incredible display of stupidity.

  I found it difficult to get up off the floor, so I sat there. The pain was still severe. I didn’t want to raise my head to explain to whoever was there what had happened.

  “Please… allow me,” he said as he bent down to help me up.

  I wish I were a horse; the honourable thing to do right now would be to shoot me.

  “I’m so sorry, I am so embarrassed. I tried to open the door, but it seemed to be jammed – I am so embarrassed!” I muttered quickly, finally able to raise my head, which I regretted immediately.

  The man was very handsome, making it all the more embarrassing. His eyes were strangely familiar, making it difficult for me to look away. I was sure the dumb-founded look on my face was doing nothing to make me look less of a fool. I closed my eyes and put my head down again. I felt sick.

  “You’re bleeding! Wait here,” he ordered.

  “Miss Kent!” the voice yelled further down the corridor.

  “What is it? Is everything alright?”

  “Catherine has hurt herself. Please go and get Dr Simons and have him come to her room immediately,” the gentleman calmly requested.

  “Yes, of course, right away!” I could hear Jules shuffling quickly past my door and down the corridor.

  I lifted my head again and opened my eyes. This time he had a comforting smile on his face, but his eyes were full of concern.

  “Who are you?” I asked. I could feel tears in my eyes start to well. I wish I could take back today and start again. Between the pain in my head and the humiliation, I felt stupid and clumsy.

  He didn’t answer. He continued to stare at me like he was expecting me to say something.

  What was so hard about the question? Surely he knew who he was!

  “Who are you?” I repeated, shocked at my tone and impatience.

  He let out a heavy sigh and straightened his posture.

  “I am James Barclay, the college principal.”

  The principal! He’s the principal? What in God’s name have I gotten myself into? I can’t look at him without my heart thumping and he is my boss!

  I couldn’t look away from him, even though I’m sure I was making him uncomfortable. “Catherine, there is nothing to be embarrassed about. All that matters now… is to stop your pain and that you are alright,” he whispered.

  I could have easily started crying again. His voice was calming, his words comforting. I was feeling a strong affection for this person.

  OK, I have just hit my head. That explains why I am entertaining such nonsense.

  As I started to get up, I could see that Mr Barclay was confused as to whether he should grab my arm to help or not.

  “Take it slowly,” he said with his magical voice.

  I was determined to salvage whatever dignity I had left. I started to pull myself up from the floor, but as I did so I lost my balance and without thinking I held out my hand to him for support. Mr Barclay quickly came to my assistance, grabbing my hand to stop me from falling. He placed his other arm around my lower back and brought my body close to his so as to lean on him. Even with all this pain, my body trembled from his touch.

  “Slowly,” he ordered, as he guided me to my bed.

  “Now, how do you want to do this?” he asked as we finally arrived at my bed.

  “Excuse me?” I replied, stunned. “Do what?”

  “Would you like to sit on your bed or lie down?” he explained, amused by my assumption.

  “Oh… yes of course. I’ll sit,” I replied, mortified by my misunderstanding.

  As he helped me sit down on the bed, I could see that he still had a smirk on his face. He then took a couple of steps back from me – his smile warmed the whole room. He was so handsome. Thankfully my ridiculous thoughts were interrupted by Jules’s high-pitched voice. I could hear a second voice that I assumed must be the doctor’s.

  “Knock, knock!” Jules sang as she and a strange-looking man entered the room.

  “My apologies for taking so long. He’d started his morning walk and it took me some time to find him,” Jules said, looking over at the doctor, sounding unimpressed.

  “What seems to be the problem, my dear?” the doctor enquiry as he placed his worn black leather bag beside me and opened it.

  “It’s silly. I’m OK now and I am so sorry to have troubled you,” I replied sheepishly. I could feel the redness returning to my cheeks, signalling another round of embarrassment.

  The doctor gave Mr Barclay a puzzled look. Mr Barclay was now standing beside my desk. From where I was sitting I could now see that he was tall and had broad shoulders. He dressed well, very well. Like something you would see in a Vogue spread.

  “Dr Simons, I am guessing Catherine is feeling guilty that she has taken you away from your walk this morning,” Mr Barclay suggested as he started to walk towards me.

  “Catherine, Miss Kent and I will leave you now so Dr Simons can examine you. I’m sure everything is fine, nevertheless I would be happier knowing that the doctor has checked you over.”

  “Yes, Catherine, I agree. I will come back and check on you later on and there is no rush for that tour. You should rest and recover from whatever just happened,” Jules said as she made her way out of my room.

  Mr Barclay was speaking to Dr Simons, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Jules was still talking as she left.

  The examination didn’t take long, and once the doctor was filled in on my self-abuse, he looked me over and warned me that I would be sore for a few days but that there was nothing to worry about. My head had stopped bleeding and there was no need for stitches. Dr Simons gave me strict instructions to do nothing but rest for the day in case I had sustained any concussion. He seemed quite shy; his voice low and gentle. He was con
stantly pushing back his glasses which were obviously too big for him.

  “Thank you, I am really sorry to have cut short your walk,” I smiled sincerely.

  “It’s perfectly fine. You can make it up to me by going on a walk with me soon. The grounds really are magnificent. Anyway, it was lovely to meet you. The other teachers will be envious that we have met already,” he said with a mischievous smile on his face.

  “Please, don’t tell anyone about today,” I pleaded.

  “You don’t have to worry about that, Catherine. Mr Barclay was quite clear on that matter. He had a quick word to me just then about that, and I am not about to upset the principal! Your secret is safe with me,” he promised as he packed his bag and left the room.

  Finally, I was alone. I got off my bed and stood up straight. I still felt a little light-headed and it ached. I wanted to take a minute and try and make sense of the chaos that I had just caused, but thinking about it was just making me anxious about my stupidity. Talk about an entrance. Having everyone’s attention like that would be up there with what I hate most.

  I went to my window and stared out hoping it would stop me from being so angry with myself. It was now raining, and I loved the rain. Most people I knew saw rain as miserable, but I saw it as homely and comforting, especially in this beautiful setting.

  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.