Someone to Watch Over Me

Jamie steps out of the Victoria Coach Station with her luggage in one hand, her hair flying everywhere beneath her cap in the windy breeze. Personally, Jamie doesn’t like the windy breeze. The blustery, gusty summer breeze that becomes solace, it reminds her of her father, of his hat flying from his head as he walks down the street from work, briefcase held tight in hand. Of the days she would sit on the curb, a little girl in her floral print dress and sunhat (to keep from burning), and wait for him. Running to him like there was no tomorrow.

Because to Jamie, tomorrow doesn’t exist, she doesn’t believe anything until it is set in stone. Robert taught her that. He taught her to hold onto her little piece of heaven and never take advantage of it. Never become the drones around her.

That is what the bus station is. Drones and drones of mindless people bustling to and from cities like they own the buildings, like none of them can drop like birds and never get up, sleep and never wake up, die and never live again. Jamie never wants to become like them.

She peels her gaze from the people rushing inside and out of the stations and tries to finds a way to her new home. She could take the tube, but she feels a bit intimidated by it, her father had so many stories from friends of his that got lost easily on their first ride on the tube, Jamie didn’t want to be one of them. She could get a cab but then her mother’s words filled her ears, cabs were too expensive according to the old woman. The girl stood there, confused and also a bit crossed at both of her parents, each of them had their own amount of guilt for making her so insecure about London and its transport.

“You look a little bit lost; maybe I can give you a lift.” said a voice behind her. Jamie didn’t spin around right away, she was a bit shocked by the stranger creeping behind her of course, but that voice, held a familiar thing. The stranger chuckled and it was then when she spun around to confirm her suspicions, it was him.

He was much taller than the last time she saw him and the round childish face was gone, but everything else was just like she remembered, the toothy grin and the fire in his baby blue eyes remained there.

Tom opened his arms and Jamie smiled before accepting his embrace with a sigh. She would be away from her home town and that was making her sad on the way to London. She wasn’t sad anymore, because Tom was her own piece of home.

“You didn’t have to pick me up.” they were waiting for the train to arrive; since Tom knew how to use the tube they were going to ride it.

“I wanted to.” his words were true, as soon as Louise called his mom to fill her in about her daughter’s decision, he volunteered to find her in the station and get her safe to the flat. “I’m very proud of you to be honest.” typical Tom, always trying to make her feel better.

“I’m not going to college.” Jamie knew that she would regret confessing her dirty secret to him, and after she saw his eyes go wide she knew it was wrong. Truth was that she wasn’t looking forward to get a BA or a Double first in Classics.

“What are you talking about?!” Tom tried not to snap at her and failed miserably, if she wasn’t going to get any kind of degree then what was she doing?

“My father didn’t go to Cambridge or King’s to get a Double first in Classics, and yet he was an amazing writer. I’m here to find a publisher and sell my novel” the train arrived and it took a lot of Tom to get inside and stop himself from going mad. There are some times when the truth cannot be said, this was one of those times. Tom couldn’t tell his friend that her father wasn’t exactly a writer; he knew that to Jamie’s eyes Robert was a victim of fate.

The ride was quiet and it gave Tom some time to think about the right words to say, he knew that it was best for his friend to attend college, otherwise she wouldn’t be taken seriously as a writer, publishers would think that this was just a hobby to her when it actually meant everything.

“Let’s make a deal.” Jamie was curious about his proposition and nodded, agreeing to whatever he wanted to propose, “You’ll have two weeks to find a publisher who can guarantee us that your work will see the light. If you don’t then you’ll attend to King’s and get a major.” He seemed proud of his deal, and Jamie knew that he was protecting the memory she had of her father.

“You’ve got yourself a very strange deal.” Tom laughs, it’s a merry laugh, and they arrive to their destination. The rain had started to pour down in the city, lucky for the two friends, the flat is very near Lambert North station so when they reached Walpole house they weren’t drenched. “Would you like to go in?” Jamie didn’t want him to leave yet, it had been nine years since he left to attend Pembroke and ever since then Jamie didn’t see much of him, just brief encounters.

“Sure I’d love to.” Tom was aware that he had a date with a girl he had been seeing for about a month, but he had missed Jamie and was afraid that at any point she would break down and cry for her father’s death.

The flat had a generous reception/dining room with double doors leading to balcony, separate fully equipped fitted kitchen with work surfaces, integrated appliances and fitted cabinets, double bedroom with fitted wardrobes and modern bathroom suite. Jamie knew it wasn’t much, but it was completely furnished and cheap.

Tom placed her luggage on her bed before joining her at the balcony. He leaned on his elbows, glancing down at the street. Jamie studies his figure, chin in his hand and eyes diverted to the ground. His hands, Jamie’s eyes keep falling back to them. They’re so beautiful (if that word can even describe them) he doesn’t have blisters on them or any callouses, not even powder burns or spots between his fingernails, they’re beautiful. She’s never seen a man with nicer hands, almost sculpted from the heavens themselves, except for maybe her father. But even her father had a few callouses and he had small, fragile nails, because he kept biting them.

Jamie looks down at her hands and frowns. They’re too small, shaky, sweaty, and her fingers are too podgy for her own liking. This makes her wonder if she can be a writer.

“You got away to your own place.” The man finally says breaking the silence that Jamie had found herself uncomfortable in. Jamie needs noise, because without it, she thinks of her father. Buried six feet under without a single sound wave able to permeate his being “I’m sure he was happy that he was your father, instead of a famous writer.”

“He never wanted to be famous. He just wanted to finish one of his works; he wanted to succeed as a writer.” She knew that her father was miserable and hated herself for being the burden to get on his way, a lump rose up on her throat.

“I remember when he read his stories after dinner.” Jamie chuckled and nodded, the memory filling her head already before Tom could continue.

“His stories were amazing; I wish he could finish writing something.”

“But Jamie, he did.” The girl looked at him quizzically, “Every story had a beginning and an end, that’s what he did whenever he got out writing in the backyard. He wrote short stories for you.” Then again the image she had of her father vanished, he wasn’t the miserable man hoping to escape the prison of his marriage, he was a devoted father who enjoyed his life and forgot about the life he always dreamed of.

With tears in her eyes she looked at Tom before wrapping her arms around his form. It was always nice to have a piece of home around, something to remind her of much happier times, when she thought less of her father and more about little things that made her happy, like the short stories after dinner.

“I’ve missed you.” She said after a few minutes in his embrace, she thought that he would laugh at her for saying that after being with him for hours, but instead he held her tighter and felt him plant a kiss on the top of her head.

“I am sorry.” His words again were full of honesty, and he was finally ready to apologize for not keeping his promise.

“Everything will be the same, I’ll come every weekend. I promise.”

But he didn’t arrive the next weekend or the one after that one and when he did arrive the following weekend, Jamie wasn’t home waiting for him, she went on a trip with her new friend Joanne.

“It’s in the past, it doesn’t matter. You’re here now.” Tom is glad that Jamie can forgive easily, like there’s no tomorrow. If there’s no tomorrow it doesn’t matter, he is glad to be holding her in the balcony instead of having dinner with the other girl.

Maybe the bond they had will never be fixed, but a new one is made. It may not be the strongest bond someone can form, but it is good enough for them to be friends again. It is good enough for Jamie to agree to let Tom take her to dinner in order for them to talk for a bit longer.

It is good enough for the two to give each other a completed smile. Even if Jamie is still nervous that he would leave her again, even if she doesn’t have the bravest face in the world.