Happy Foot

Happy Foot

By Devora Jackson

I am sobbing and sobbing as the car winds its way slowly through the traffic to the hospital. My foot is throbbing and swollen, it’s probably broken; but I’m well aware that the tears are not just about the break to my foot that happened a few minutes ago but are equally for my heart which was shattered a few days ago.

Three weeks earlier. Cam’s impulsivity could be a bit hard to deal with sometimes. He’d chosen to surprise me for my birthday by sending me train tickets to meet him halfway between the cities where our long-distance relationship was conducted from. It was a sweet and loving gesture, and I took it in the spirit it was intended, but Cam being Cam he hadn’t stopped to check if I could get the day off work before he booked. Luckily I could.

My best friend was excited when I told her “Ooh! Do you think he’s going to propose?” she asked, having heard me talk many times about Cam’s unsubtle hints in that direction.

“Nah.” I said dismissively. “He knows I’m not ready to decide yet. He just wants to spend the day together”.

I was determined to have a good day. It was my birthday after all, and I wasn’t going to spoil it by getting into an argument with Cam over his habit of making plans for us without checking with me first. He’d done it before; no doubt he’d do it again. The impulsivity was just part of who he was. There was a certain boyish charm to it sometimes, like the time he’d decided as we drove up to our date venue that it looked too crowded and on a whim he’d decided to keep driving and follow road signs to somewhere neither of us had ever heard of; it turned out to be a beautiful nature reserve, much nicer and quieter than the place we’d planned on visiting.

Anyway, my birthday was going well. The train had been pleasantly empty, Cam had met me at the station and it was a genuine pleasure to look up from my book and see his smile as he walked toward me across the concourse. He made me happy, happier than I had been for years. I felt loved and valued, something I hadn’t felt since before the hatchet job that my ex- had performed on my self-esteem.

Once the train tickets had been booked, it had been my choice of venue within the destination city, and the sun shone down on us with a pleasant warmth as we wandered the paths of the Botanical Gardens that I had settled on. The floral displays were stunning, rhododendrons of deepest pink and palest yellow, Gunnera at the edge of the lake big enough to sit under and sweet chestnut trees with intricate textured bark. Cam was in his element, his butterfly brain not knowing where to settle first as he wandered this way and that snapping photos on his phone. I savoured the joyous feeling of having someone to share all this beauty with. Being part of an ‘Us’ was so much better than being the ‘I’ that had been my existence for eight long years. I was grateful to Cam.

As the sun took up position directly overhead I gestured to a shaded bench at the side of the path.

“Shall we?” I asked.

Cam smiled and placing the bag with our picnic lunch on the bench, he sat down beside me. He loosened the drawstring and rummaged in the bag “Can I give you anything?”

“No, I’m fine for the moment, thanks” I said, content to just enjoy the respite from the sun’s rays.

Cam looked disappointed. “I’ve got a present for you,” he said brightening again.

“What do you mean?” I knew he didn’t have much money and he’d already spent a lot on this outing. I honestly wasn’t expecting anything else. “I thought this was the present”.

Cam handed me a small unwrapped blue box. A very small unwrapped blue box. My heart started to beat uncomfortably and I looked quizzically up at him. He was gazing directly at me, his brown eyes showing the depth of his emotion. “Go on. Open it” he said encouragingly.

I flipped the lid open and immediately slammed it shut again, as if afraid that the diamond ring winking up at me might bite. A panic rose up in my chest - what now? I wasn’t ready for this. Cam was still looking at me, a gentle smile on his face. I knew what came next was going to hurt him, but there was no way round it.

“I can’t accept this from you” I said holding the box out towards him. “I do love you,” I said, trying to sweeten the blow “but I’m not sure about our long-term future yet”.

“Don’t take too long to decide, Bea .I know what I want. We’rre rright for each other. And we’rre neither of us sprring chickens. You know my Grranddad passed away young, only in his fifties, I don’t want to wait much longerr”.

I noticed that he was rolling his Rs, his Scottish burr becoming more pronounced. That meant he was deadly serious, even if this was also fast becoming a contender for the least romantic proposal ever. I continued to hold out the box.

“Keep it” he said. “I bought it for you and I know what yourr decision will be in the end”.

“No. I can’t do that” I shook my head. “That’s like making you a promise that I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep. Please, take it back” I pleaded.

Cam took the ring, but before I had a chance to release the tension that had built rapidly inside me, he grabbed my bag, unzipped the pocket and placed the ring inside it.

“Hey!” I protested.

But he kept a firm grip on the bag and refused to take the ring back out. This was heading towards an argument that I really didn’t want to have, especially on my birthday. I made a snap decision that I would let it go for now, and give him the ring back later in the day when his defences were less rigid.

We stood up and headed for the tropical butterfly house at the end of the path. All in all it was a wonderful outing, except that I could not persuade Cam to take that dratted ring back no matter how many times I tried. I was laughing fairly hysterically the last time I tried back at the station, where we were waiting for our trains to be called. Perhaps that made him think that I was joking. But my laughter was that of a child being tickled against her will, I couldn’t stop laughing, but it had nothing to do with it being funny. Either way, I found myself on the train heading home with an engagement ring that I didn’t want in my bag.

The days that followed were hard for me. I cared deeply about Cam but I was happy with the status quo, I really didn’t know if I was ready for the next step. Keeping the ring felt dishonest, so after much consideration I posted it back to him. I felt irritated that he hadn’t believed me, cross that I’d had to arrange a courier for the ring and at the same time more happy and confident in our relationship now that he’d shown me much we meant to him. I was confused!

Some days later, after Cam had received the ring back and said that he understood and wasn’t offended, I had a difficult encounter with a client at the end of a work day. I desperately needed to offload my feelings but my colleagues had all left for the day. Not to worry, I told myself, I can talk it through with Cam. In my previous relationship, expressing feelings had been a dangerous occupation. Happiness was fine, worry was acceptable, just about, but sadness and anger were absolute no-noes. Cam had given me no indication that he would react in the same way as my ex- so with an extra reason to look forward to our nightly call I packed up and headed home.

The conversation flowed, with the usual mix of news, seriousness, laughter and light hearted banter. I introduced the topic of my difficult client and there was a definite relief in being able to talk through how I felt to someone who understood and cared about me. Cam could be a good listener. But then, as I was in midflow, suddenly he stopped me.

 “I’m sorry Bea, my son is calling me on the other line. I need to see what he wants. I’ll call you back”. And he was gone, leaving me staring at the phone in disbelief.

I knew that Cam missed his fourteen year old son and wished that they could spend more time together. And I was glad that they seemed to have a good relationship. But this took me by surprise. I hadn’t been talking about the weather or some other trivia and I felt hurt that Cam could just cut me off like that. When he called me back and said that his son had needed help with some school work, I decided to take a risk and express my hurt feelings. Cam didn’t say much and I thought the topic was closed.

By the next day I was forced to reassess this though. There was a coolness to Cam’s messages and they were coming at a much lower frequency. When I questioned this, Cam said that work was busy, but that had never stopped him contacting me before. I began to feel distinctly uneasy, something was obviously wrong.

That night Cam called much later than usual, he said he’d had a lot of errands to run and had got home late.

“Listen,” he said “I’ve been thinking, and I don’t think I’m the man for you. I think we need to stop seeing one another”.

“Can we talk about this?”

“No. I’ve made up my mind. I’m ending it now before we destroy one another”.

My jaw must have been somewhere on the floor. I had not seen that coming, it was only nine days earlier that he had given me a diamond ring and talked about us spending eternity together. The following week was a dark one for me. The tears flowed, sleep was in short supply and I stumbled through the days with a Cam shaped hole in my heart.

My friends were supportive. My best friend reminded me of the misgivings she had expressed months previously about the instability of my relationship with Cam. I knew at the time that what she had said made sense, but I had chosen to ignore it. Now I had no choice but to face up to the fact that she had been right.

My sister and her husband, who lived in the same city as Cam, were due to host a family celebration. One week on and with sleep starting to reappear in my life, I decided that a change of scene would do me good, and that I would stick to my original plan to travel there. The train journey was hard. I kept seeing things that I wanted to share with Cam, but couldn’t.

As I exited the station, the sea breeze tickled my nostrils and the swooping gulls provided a familiar sound track. My brother-in-law grabbed my suitcase as we rushed through a deluge that threatened to turn into a full-blown summer storm, to where my sister was waiting in the car. Hugh hastily threw my luggage into the boot, and jumped into the front passenger seat. I leaned in through the back door and greeted the reflection of my sister’s smile in the rear-view mirror. As I took off my shoulder bag and prepared to get in, there was a sudden agonising pain in my foot.

“STOP! STOP! You’re running over my foot!”

And again. Helen had reversed over my foot mistakenly believing me to be in the car, and now, in her shock, she compounded the problem by going forward over it a second time.

 I am screaming and crying. Helen jumps out of the car and runs round to hug me.

“I’m so so sorry! It was an accident. I didn’t mean to.” She is crying too.

We head for the hospital and there is a strange relief in the pain. I am dimly aware in some rational functioning part of my brain that I needed to release this grief. As I said before, it’s not just my foot, but also my heart that needs repairing.

The hospital waiting room is grim and grey. Harried looking staff appear and disappear and most of the patients are as grey faced as the surroundings. I am settled with an icepack on my foot waiting for my turn to be seen. The ice dims the pain in my foot a little, but my heart hurts like crazy. Instinctively I pick up my phone and send a text to Cam.

THIS IS URGENT PLEASE READ. I AM AT HOSPITAL. MYFOOT WAS RUN OVER BY A CAR. PLEASE PHONE, I MISS YOU.

There is no planning, no thought about the wording, just my feelings rushing out. I miss Cam, the plain and simple truth.

Almost immediately a reply comes back.

Will call as soon as possible, working until 6pm. Feel better.

It’s just before five o’clock now. I get assessed by a nurse, then sent through to x-ray and to get my foot plastered. As I hobble with my new crutches, Hugh and Helen either side of me, back in to the waiting area by the hospital entrance I see Cam asking a nurse where to find me. He looks up, and I’m suddenly glad that I dressed well and put on make –up to travel in. I hear Helen hiss unnecessarily behind my back “Cam’s here”. I haven’t told her that I contacted him.

“Look at you!” says Cam, walking towards me.

We arrange that Cam will drive me to Helen’s, so that we can have a chance to talk. The atmosphere is awkward between us at first. I can see that the fact he is here, doesn’t automatically mean that things are now right between us but soon the conversation loosens up. Cam tells me that initially he was angry when he received a message from me, because he was just starting to forget about me. I am startled by this; I had forgotten just how quickly he is able to switch attention. We arrive at Helen’s house and Cam turns off the engine. I look at him “Well,” I say, “you win your knight in shining armour rescuing fair damsel award”.

Cam looks surprised, and then laughs.

“My feelings for you haven’t changed” he says. “I love you”.

I feel the tears spring into my eyes; they are never far from the surface these days.

“Oh Cam. I love you too.”

He helps me into the house. Helen is full of apologies about the accident; she keeps saying how sorry she is. I settle back into an armchair with my foot, complete with fresh white cast, supported by cushions. Cam is beside me. Helen has tactfully not mentioned anything about his unexpected appearance. She comes over with a cup of tea for me, and starts apologising again.

“Helen, really it’s fine. You did me a favour. My foot is happy!” I catch Cam’s eye and we both start laughing. I say nothing more but my heart is happy too.