Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad
part 80.

On the drive to the hospital I kept a look out for the Saab, but there was no sign of it. I parked up at the hospital carpark and checked my mobile, there was nothing. Why he left was a total mystery to me. I so badly wanted to call Stella but if I did he might take it the wrong way when he found out. Nothing seemed to be going right for me today and I'd just as soon have gone home to sleep as be in a hospital where everyone but me seemed to be in bed.

The time I spent with Daddy was a strain for both of us. I was distracted thinking about Simon, so I didn't catch half of what he was trying to say. Since his stroke his speech had been difficult to understand. Actually it was better today since his session with the speech therapist, but he was tired and kept falling asleep. He even fell asleep when I was helping him to eat his tea, which reminded me of seeing a baby fall asleep with a spoonful of food in his mouth.

He didn't ask me what was distracting me, thank goodness. If he had I would probably have lied and told him it was tiredness. I did remember to bring in his brandy, which brought a smile to his face and I told the nurse I had brought it in. He was to be allowed a small glass each night to help him sleep.

The time for visiting was finally over and I was absolutely knackered as I wandered back to the car park. It was dark and all I wanted was to go home and sleep, possibly with a hot bath in between them. The drive home was uneventful.

After parking I opened the front door and there was an enevelope on the door mat. There is no delivery on a sunday, so this was by hand. It was addressed simply to, 'Cathy'. I had a feeling I knew who its author was, so I made myself a cuppa and took it up to the bathroom.

After settling myself in a nice hot bath with my tea close to hand, I opened the envelope.

'Dearest Cathy,

Forgive my running off this afternoon but I had to get away to think. I am truly sorry that I did so without any notice to you and that I let you cook a meal for nothing. I'm sure it would have been delicious.

You are the best thing that has ever happened to me and I am so scared of spoiling it. You know of my difficulties with relationships as I know of yours, and I am so scared of losing you that being with you is almost painful because it lets me know what I would be missing if I blew it again.

You told me you were "falling for me", it's an experience I can mirror because I fell for you the moment I saw you. Why can't I say these things to you? Cowardice? Fear of losing you in case I'm wanting to move too quickly for you? I don't know.

As you correctly guessed, I had a difficult relationship with my mother, who sent me off to boarding school because I complicated her life. I'm not sure I have forgiven her, even though she has been dead for several years. The memories of the pain I felt at being sent away from home at the age of eight are still with me. I'm sorry, I'm rambling, please give me some time to get my head straight and then we can talk.

If, on the other hand, you don't want anything more to do with me, and I would understand, just let Stella know. The car is yours, although you would have to tax and insure it in a year's time.

Thank you for the time we have had together, I hope we might still have a future, but that is up to you.

Love,

Simon.
XXXX'

I read the letter so many times I thought it would fade the ink. I felt a total confusion and a maelstrom of emotions, including slashing my wrists while in the hot water. I also felt like killing him, the twit!

What was going on? How can someone who purports to like me, perhaps love me, run away because it was too painful? I almost laughed at the idea that someone fell in love with me after I'd been a woman for about an hour, it was ludicrous, or it was to me. But who was I to judge others?

Simon obviously was coming with loads of baggage, so was I. The problem was, could we actually cope with that of the other as well as our own? Seeing as we weren't coping with our own too well, it might be too much. On the other hand, maybe we could help each other too.

I puzzled over his note until the water got cold and so did I. In the end I had to take a warm shower to ward off the hypothermia. When I walked into the bedroom in a borrowed dressing gown of my mothers, I saw it was nearly midnight, no wonder I felt so tired.

The one meaningful conversation I had had with my dad was about my mother's belongings. He didn't want to make a shrine to her at the same time he couldn't bring himself to throw her stuff away, especially as he now had a 'daughter' who might want some of it. Effectively, he told me to take what I wanted and dispose of the rest. There were a few bits and pieces he wanted like her wedding ring but he was happy for me to have her engagement ring, which amazingly fitted me.

Washing out her clothes and packing them up for the charity shop would also give me something to do. He agreed to my using his cash card and gave me the pin number. He asked me to keep a note of all I took out of his account and offered me twenty pounds a week pocket money as well as meeting the costs of my food and fuel. I thought he was being pretty generous and accepted. At the same time, I tried to give no long term commitment to anything.

I took a cup of drinking chocolate to bed with me. It wasn't a favourite of mine, but I hoped it would help me sleep, especially with the generous sloosh of brandy I had included. After reading the letter another hundred times I eventually fell asleep.

I dreamed that Simon and I were dormice living in different colonies on either side of a busy road. The humans for some reason had a soft spot for us and had built a bridge over the road, so we could get together. I climbed up on to the bridge only to see Simon scarper in the opposite direction. I woke up crying.