Chapter 1 – Looking back
John Bender sat looking at the diamond earring that he was twisting in his right hand, and sighed. 'God Claire, why did you have to be so cruel?' he thought. Looking up he caught his reflection in the mirror on the dresser and noticed that look in his eyes again, the look he'd had that day in '84 when she had 'lost' her way into the storage room he had been deposited in by Vernon. He remembered the kiss she had given him, placed ever so gently on his neck and realised that it was at that moment he had fallen for her.
"Why'd you do that?" he had asked, "because I knew you wouldn't" she had replied and given him one of her now increasingly irritating smiles – the kind he always wanted to cover with his own mouth. "You know how you said before how your parents use you to get back at each other? Wouldn't I be outstanding in that capacity?" he had carried on, whilst she had continued to smile at his reverie.
'Maybe,' he thought 'I really shouldn't have said that, perhaps that was the real and only reason she had wanted me then … I still can't believe you left me, Claire'. He returned his gaze to the now still diamond and let out a laugh, a tiny smile touching his lips. "If there is one thing I am sure of; if I never see you again Claire, it will be too soon".
With that in mind he placed the earring back inside the jewellery box, the only trinket he had made of any worth in shop and had survived his destructive home-life, and with it the only photos that had survived that part of his life too: A rare one of his family, one of 'the breakfast club' and one of he and Claire. Once back inside their resting place John was able to continue with his normal daily routine.
It was whilst he was sitting at his breakfast bar reading the days Chicago Sun Times that he heard the familiar sound of his letter box. Rusty, his six-year-old Labrador, padded his way across the hall, let out a small non- committal bark and laid down over the recently dispatched mail. John reluctantly set his newspaper aside and pushed himself off of his stool. Walking over to where Rusty lay he motioned for the animal to move, which he did as commanded; bending down and picking up the pile John quickly scanned the envelopes for anything exciting, discarding those that he knew looked like bills.
It was then that he saw it. Only a corner at first but with its ornate gold coloured border he felt that this could be the one thing he had needed to cheer him up in such a long time. Placing the rest on his telephone stand he moved back into the kitchen and reacquired his seat, taking a sip from his coffee cup he settled back and started to tear open the flap.
Pulling out the card and looking at the front he realised immediately whom it was from, who else would pen a snow scene like the one he remembered from eighteen years ago. "And no dandruff either, she must be slipping in her old age." He opened it and began to read 'Dear John, it has been too long! We (Andy and I) have decided that the re-launch of 'The Breakfast Club' is long overdue and as such invite you to our home a week Sunday, being the 24th March. A little nostalgic I realise, but none the less an anniversary. It will be good to see you and catch up on old times. 'Til then, your friend, Allison.'
Looking up at the calendar pinned above the refrigerator he realised that the card had taken longer to arrive than expected. Today was Tuesday, he had five days to collect himself and make ready. Not for seeing his old friends, he would see them tomorrow if he could, tonight even; but for seeing Claire – how on earth could he cope with that, it had nearly killed him when she had walked out on him all those years ago, it still pained him, still kept away any likely candidates for his love. She had left and taken his heart with her. He would always love her; there could never be anybody else for him. If there could be a new start he could have gotten rid of that damn earring for starters, and the picture of them both together. But then who needed pictures when he saw her nearly every night in his dreams. There were very few occasions when he could remember having a full nights sleep. Generally speaking he would toss and turn for hours before finally dropping off to sleep from sheer exhaustion. And what if he did see her again on Sunday, what would happen then, those memories that he had erased would they all come flooding back? The good times, the very good times, the times he had managed to block out because to remember them was too much too handle knowing that whenever he was alone again behind that front door he would always imagine her being there, waiting for him to come home, keeping their children up just so that they could say goodnight to their father.
"I am not, not, going to let you do this to me again, these people are my friends as well as yours and I am blowed if you are going to keep me away from seeing them. I just hope we can keep civil tongues and not ruin everybody else's evening."
He looked at his watch and realised he would be late getting into the traffic if he did not make a move quickly. He secured the invite to his pegboard, rinsed out his mug, patted the dog and made for the front door. "I must try and leave these feelings behind" he said to no one in particular, walked over the threshold and shut the door securely behind him.
John Bender sat looking at the diamond earring that he was twisting in his right hand, and sighed. 'God Claire, why did you have to be so cruel?' he thought. Looking up he caught his reflection in the mirror on the dresser and noticed that look in his eyes again, the look he'd had that day in '84 when she had 'lost' her way into the storage room he had been deposited in by Vernon. He remembered the kiss she had given him, placed ever so gently on his neck and realised that it was at that moment he had fallen for her.
"Why'd you do that?" he had asked, "because I knew you wouldn't" she had replied and given him one of her now increasingly irritating smiles – the kind he always wanted to cover with his own mouth. "You know how you said before how your parents use you to get back at each other? Wouldn't I be outstanding in that capacity?" he had carried on, whilst she had continued to smile at his reverie.
'Maybe,' he thought 'I really shouldn't have said that, perhaps that was the real and only reason she had wanted me then … I still can't believe you left me, Claire'. He returned his gaze to the now still diamond and let out a laugh, a tiny smile touching his lips. "If there is one thing I am sure of; if I never see you again Claire, it will be too soon".
With that in mind he placed the earring back inside the jewellery box, the only trinket he had made of any worth in shop and had survived his destructive home-life, and with it the only photos that had survived that part of his life too: A rare one of his family, one of 'the breakfast club' and one of he and Claire. Once back inside their resting place John was able to continue with his normal daily routine.
It was whilst he was sitting at his breakfast bar reading the days Chicago Sun Times that he heard the familiar sound of his letter box. Rusty, his six-year-old Labrador, padded his way across the hall, let out a small non- committal bark and laid down over the recently dispatched mail. John reluctantly set his newspaper aside and pushed himself off of his stool. Walking over to where Rusty lay he motioned for the animal to move, which he did as commanded; bending down and picking up the pile John quickly scanned the envelopes for anything exciting, discarding those that he knew looked like bills.
It was then that he saw it. Only a corner at first but with its ornate gold coloured border he felt that this could be the one thing he had needed to cheer him up in such a long time. Placing the rest on his telephone stand he moved back into the kitchen and reacquired his seat, taking a sip from his coffee cup he settled back and started to tear open the flap.
Pulling out the card and looking at the front he realised immediately whom it was from, who else would pen a snow scene like the one he remembered from eighteen years ago. "And no dandruff either, she must be slipping in her old age." He opened it and began to read 'Dear John, it has been too long! We (Andy and I) have decided that the re-launch of 'The Breakfast Club' is long overdue and as such invite you to our home a week Sunday, being the 24th March. A little nostalgic I realise, but none the less an anniversary. It will be good to see you and catch up on old times. 'Til then, your friend, Allison.'
Looking up at the calendar pinned above the refrigerator he realised that the card had taken longer to arrive than expected. Today was Tuesday, he had five days to collect himself and make ready. Not for seeing his old friends, he would see them tomorrow if he could, tonight even; but for seeing Claire – how on earth could he cope with that, it had nearly killed him when she had walked out on him all those years ago, it still pained him, still kept away any likely candidates for his love. She had left and taken his heart with her. He would always love her; there could never be anybody else for him. If there could be a new start he could have gotten rid of that damn earring for starters, and the picture of them both together. But then who needed pictures when he saw her nearly every night in his dreams. There were very few occasions when he could remember having a full nights sleep. Generally speaking he would toss and turn for hours before finally dropping off to sleep from sheer exhaustion. And what if he did see her again on Sunday, what would happen then, those memories that he had erased would they all come flooding back? The good times, the very good times, the times he had managed to block out because to remember them was too much too handle knowing that whenever he was alone again behind that front door he would always imagine her being there, waiting for him to come home, keeping their children up just so that they could say goodnight to their father.
"I am not, not, going to let you do this to me again, these people are my friends as well as yours and I am blowed if you are going to keep me away from seeing them. I just hope we can keep civil tongues and not ruin everybody else's evening."
He looked at his watch and realised he would be late getting into the traffic if he did not make a move quickly. He secured the invite to his pegboard, rinsed out his mug, patted the dog and made for the front door. "I must try and leave these feelings behind" he said to no one in particular, walked over the threshold and shut the door securely behind him.