Chapter 39

John smiled at Clara once he had lifted their suitcase out of the boot and gotten a good look at the small, cosy house in front of them. It seemed like an ideal spot for a holiday, even though the weather was a bit colder than they had expected at this time of the year.

"It's gonna be a wonderful weekend," John said excitedly as he made his way towards the house, "We can go for a nice walk, maybe drive to Edinburgh tomorrow for some sightseeing. The city is beautiful and I know some corners that I know you'd love. What do you think?"

When John looked at Clara, however, he didn't see the same enthusiasm on her face that he currently felt. She looked sceptical, moody even.

"Is everything alright?" he asked.

"I'm cold," she complained grumpily, but fortunately John had the solution for that. He opened the door to the back seat and pulled a warm parka out of the car before he draped it around Clara's shoulders. Nothing, not even the weather, would ruin this weekend that he had laid out perfectly in his head. Yet even the coat didn't seem to lift Clara's spirits.

"Come on, let's go inside and have a cup of tea," he suggested carefully and while Clara nodded in agreement John lifted the suitcase back up and proceeded to carry it inside.

The interior of the house was as lovely has he had imagined it, maybe even better than that. It held a large sofa, a fireplace, a small kitchen and when he looked further into the corridor he spotted two more doors for what he assumed were the bathroom and bedroom. John dropped the suitcase on the bedroom floor and walked back into the kitchen where Clara was already busy at the kettle and he smiled as he approached her and closed his arms around her waist from behind.

"This weekend was a great idea," he whispered happily and lowered his head to place a soft kiss on her neck.

However, to his surprise, Clara pulled away from his embrace and John stepped back, eyeing her closely.

"Clara, are you sure that everything is alright?" he asked once more. He couldn't help but think that something about her was odd and had been all week. Before that they had both been looking forward to their little trip.

Clara sighed and turned to look at him and yet she didn't actually look at him but some spot on the wall next to his head. "I've had an awful week. I'm exhausted, I'm cold, I'm hungry," she complained, "I'm sorry, I don't wanna ruin the trip."

"Okay," John granted her a smile as he approached the counter and filled her tea mug with boiling water before he handed it to her, "You will take this and sit on the sofa while I make dinner. Nothing is going to ruin this weekend, especially not exhaustion and hunger, so go and rest while I prepare the food."

Clara opened her mouth to protest, but John reached for her arms and turned her to face the living room.

"Sofa, now," he said and pecked her on the cheek.

"Fine," Clara growled in reply and John watched her leave the kitchen. No, he wouldn't let anything come between him and his utterly romantic weekend because if everything went according to plan he wouldn't go back to Missy's place on Sunday night. He would finally go to live with his wife again.

Just half an hour later John joined Clara in the living room, carrying two large plates filled with steaming, delicious pasta and he handed Clara one of them.

"Ugh, that smells good," she uttered and instantly took the plate out of his hands to start eating. She really seemed hungry and John hoped that dinner would lighten her mood at least a little.

"Do you like it?"

"It's amazing," she mumbled, her mouth full of pasta.

Feeling good about himself, John leaned back on the sofa and took the first fork full of pasta in his mouth. Yes, his cooking skills had definitely improved over the past five years and he assumed that he owed that to Clara as well.

They retreated to bed fairly early and John didn't even mind so much when he closed his arm tightly around Clara. He felt just as tired as she was after a busy day in his practice, but at least it meant that they could get an early start on Saturday. He had so many things planned for Saturday. A lovely breakfast, a trip to Edinburgh, a nice walk through the surrounding landscape and hopefully, if they weren't too tired, some activities inside the bedroom. Because of their busy schedules he hadn't spent the night at her place in a week and he missed her. He didn't miss just the sex, but the intimacy that surrounded it, or just holding her like he was right now. It was perfect, Clara was perfect.

"Good night, darling," he whispered softly.

"Night," Clara mumbled sleepily and soon John began to drift off.

Due to his exhaustion John was surprised when he woke up and the clock on the bedside table told him that it was only shortly after 6. He was even more surprised to find Clara's side of the bed empty.

When he heard a sound from the direction of the bathroom, John threw the duvet aside and started to follow the sound until he could hear the flushing of the toilet. Okay, that was a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why Clara wasn't in bed. She had simply gone to the loo. He was just about to turn around and head back to bed when the bathroom door opened and Clara emerged onto the corridor. When he saw her, the worry instantly rose back up inside of John. Clara looked utterly exhausted and pale.

"Are you okay?" he asked instantly and Clara raised her head, furrowing her brows into a deep frown.

"Did you follow me?"

"No, I was just-" he attempted to defend himself, but Clara immediately continued.

"Can't I at least have a bit of privacy on the loo?!" she spat, "Who are you? My mother?"

"I wasn't following you. Not on purpose. I-" he broke off, wondering why on earth they were fighting about this. "Clara, are you sure you're okay? You look really ill."

"Thanks a lot," she grumbled and walked past him, back in the direction of the bedroom.

When John followed her, he found her already lying in bed, her arms crossed in front of her chest. She was cross with him and ill and for some reason the combination worried him. He remained standing there, just looking at her for a long moment.

"Is it something that I did?" he asked.

He heard Clara groaned. "No," she replied, "Just come back to bed."

Reluctantly John did as he was told and lifted the duvet to lie back down next to her, yet he was too afraid to actually touch her.

"You know, you can tell me," he said quietly, "Whatever it is. If it's because of me or work, anything."

Clara turned around in bed and when she smiled at him John could tell that it was forced even in the dim morning light. "It's nothing," she said and leaned forward to peck him on the lips, "Let's go back to sleep."

John was about to open his mouth and go on, but Clara had already closed her eyes, ending their discussion before he was finished. He sighed heavily. The weekend had sounded so wonderful in his head and now he had no idea how he should do everything he had planned to do. Telling her that he loved her, that he wanted to move back in, it should be something special. He couldn't do it now. Not like this. His only hope was that the rest of the weekend would be better than this.