Three months later
Bing.
The sound of the ‘fasten seatbelt’ sign illuminating is followed by the Chief Purser making the familiar inflight announcement,
“Ladies and gentlemen, the captain has now switched on the seatbelt sign as we will shortly be landing in Christchurch…”
I tune out her voice, leaning my head against the small oval window, feeling the hardness of the cool plastic press uncomfortably against my forehead. The plane banks a hard right, as the shoreline comes into view. The bright sun blazes through the window and I close my eyes against the blinding light, feeling the warmth of the sun’s rays hit the back of my eyelids. I pray to God that the comforting heat that permeates my whole body, is a sign that this fresh start will be just that - a fresh start. I know I’m still dealing with my own burdens. I’m in no way past them. I don’t know if I ever will be.
Chris reaches across for my hand, lifting it to his lips. He smiles warmly, and I smile back. I know I can’t be mad at him forever. He’s human and he made a mistake. I do believe he’s deeply sorry for the pain he’s caused. Cruelly turning away from me in the weeks after finding out we were pregnant, then brutally abandoning me that fateful evening. I just wish he’d stepped up and given me the support I so desperately needed before the damage was done. Why did he have to cause so much heartache before taking responsibility for his actions? Why was he so immature? I know it’s his major flaw. Act without thinking, deal with consequences later. Focus on the fun and avoid anything too serious.
If I’m honest though, that was one of the qualities that I initially found so attractive in him. Never one to play by the rules, to do what society or authority dictate is ‘the right thing’. To go after what he wants no matter who or what gets in the way - not thinking, just doing. That’s how he seduced me, even though I was committed to someone else at the time. I remember I’d felt flattered, desired… wanted. Except the flip side of that same coin, is the instability and lack of maturity needed to be able to deal with the hard stuff life throws at you. Perhaps I’m hoping that he has grown up as a result of this episode, or that by being back on his home turf he can step up. Live up emotionally to the physical masculinity he portrays.
I hear my own warning to myself repeating in my mind, the words I remember saying to Chris when we were at the cinema watching Four Weddings and a Funeral, over eighteen months ago, “You’re not going to turn into another person who ends up breaking my heart, are you?” Never when I said those words could I have imagined the rollercoaster I was stepping onto.
If it was possible to love someone with such an all-consuming passion, yet at times feel let down by them with an equal amount of intensity, that would pretty much describe how I feel about the man sat next to me. I know he loves me, as I do him. He is my only source of love, support, encouragement, belief and now too, financial security and yet at the same time, I know, even if he never meant to hurt me, he is the source of my greatest pain. It’s a hell of a cacophony to handle. I suppose the question now is, can he mend my heart after he was the one to break it?
I still don’t really trust my own emotional judgement. I know I’m still too fragile and therefore unsure of how I really feel. About him. About us. My emotions having been tested to the maximum since Chris and I met. It’s so confusing.
Chris is the one man who originally opened me up. Made me fully trust a member of the opposite sex for the first time in my life, made me trust him, made me trust myself, made me truly feel things, made me fall in love… with him. Those first few months when we first got together were, without doubt, the happiest I’ve ever been. That first summer was so fantastic, I’ve never felt so loved and cherished or had as much fun as I had in those first four months until he left that first time to go back to New Zealand and sell his first shipment of cars. So trying to rationalise him as also being the cause of my greatest pain is so jarring.
I know exactly when it all started to go awry - after that one incident when he’d returned home the very first time. Although we’d thought we’d easily got past those early issues still bouncing along in the hedonistic passion of a new love, nevertheless, the sacred trust in the relationship was broken. Once we’d reconciled there’s no doubt that’s when I became needier, more reliant on him for my emotional needs and he became more reliant on me for his physical needs. Is that what led to such a violent outburst of jealously in Hong Kong and his need to separate me from all of my male friends? Perhaps. But before we had had a chance to redress that balance, we were ripped apart once again, leaving a gaping hole in my heart as we desperately yearned for each other, our relationship once again suspended. Living phone call to phone call, letter to letter, while we attempted to maintain our connection long distance. This was followed by our passionate reunion when I flew to New Zealand and spent three magical weeks there, experiencing all of the wonder of the South Island and rekindling our romance.
There’s no doubt New Zealand is a magical place and it was a magical holiday. At the time it had felt like those first few months of our relationship again, spending that first summer hanging out with friends and family, using every weekend to travel around the UK and Europe, falling deeply and passionately in love. But did our time in New Zealand feel like that because it wasn’t real life? Almost like a holiday romance, but with someone you already know and love? Then once again, this period of nirvana was followed by yet another long period of uncertainty and separation.
Then we were finally reunited, hoping to start the next chapter of our lives together cohabiting. Living, working and setting up home together just the two of us, finally learning how to live together as a normal couple, we’d hardly had a chance to catch our breath and adjust to our new lives living in London when suddenly we were coping with the toughest decision and situation of our young lives. Looking back, although I can’t say for sure, I must have fallen pregnant almost the instant Chris returned, perhaps even that very first night. But then after being apart for so long, we did go at it like rabbits for those first few weeks so it’s not surprising that if there was even the slightest drop in my contraceptive protection, my womb must have been swimming with his soldiers, it was inevitable that one of them would hit the jackpot.
The one glimmer of positivity that has emerged from this hideous chapter, is realising the depths of my own emotional resolve. When he was weak, I was strong. When he ran away, I stayed the course. But then, I had no other choice. Perhaps I am stronger than I give myself credit for? Even if I don’t feel it at the moment.
Crouched on the carpet in the Ladies’ at Jessica’s naming ceremony, I had an out of body experience. As if for its own self-preservation, my own soul had had to leave my body, unable to handle the very real physical pain that had gripped my body like a vice. In that moment it really felt like I would die from a broken heart. My ethereal self had been calmly standing on the opposite side of the room and I’d watched my own body rocking uncontrollably, unable to communicate to Melanie, wailing like a wounded animal, hardly able to catch my own breath - then Chris had walked in and I had seen the colours change in the auras surrounding us both. I’d watched as the light greens, blues and pinks from Chris’s aura transferred to me, brightening up the dark dirty browns and greys of my own energy. His colours lifting mine. And I had felt a warm glow enter my spirit. The last remnants of love still there, buried beneath all of my grief. His compassion in that moment, his protection, him putting my own needs before his own, I had decided then and there, that I had to give him one more shot. One more chance to see if we can make this work. If we can rebuild upwards from here. If we can finally find a way to love each other without causing each other so much pain.
It occurs to me I’ve never asked him how he’s feeling about the whole episode. I know he’s devastated about how he behaved, but I do wonder if he regrets the decision to terminate. If he also thinks about the what ifs, as I do every single day, every single time I close my eyes. I suppose I don’t want to ask because right now I don’t want to know. I hardly have the strength to pull myself through this and I simply don’t have enough energy left to deal with his grief as well. Perhaps when we get settled in Christchurch, perhaps when we’re more stable, perhaps then I’ll be able to ask, and he’ll be able to tell me. Right now, I’m basking in his support. Ironically, I need it. I need him.
These past three months have been filled with lots of sorting out and lots of goodbyes. I’ve resigned permanently from work. That was a great day - walking into the office and handing Jonathan my letter of resignation. I maintained a cool head, even though I was tempted to ask him to turn round and bend over so that I could stick my letter up his arse, but I didn’t. Instead I consciously kept my nose clean as I worked out my notice, so that he would give me a good reference and I could leave the door open for potential re-employment in the future either back in his team, or back in our company in a different office.
Our final few nights were spent with Michelle, David and baby Jessica, and Melanie and Lynne came up to town to share a final family dinner, Lynne having returned to the UK to spend some time with her newest grandchild. In between some further caring contracts, she’s planning to spend Christmas in the UK with both her daughters and little Jessica.
“Can you take these photos and letters to Dad please, Christopher?” Michelle had asked at our final dinner, holding out a bundle of letters and a slim photograph album filled with photos of Jessica’s key moments from her first six months.
“On second thoughts,” handing the letters to me instead, ”probably best if you take them, Victoria.”
“No problem,” I’d said, while Chris rolled his eyes in mock sarcasm.
“…and these ones are to go to Dean and Lisa.”
“Again, no problem. I’ll keep them all safe and give these to your dad, and either hand these to Lisa in person if we hook up with them in the next few weeks, or I’ll post them up to the North Island when we get there.”
“I can’t quite believe you’re both leaving. It’s seems like you’ve only just got yourselves settled here in the UK - finally,” Melanie had said, plonking her elbow on the table and catching her chin in her hands. Her observation not lost on Chris and I. Our gaze had connected briefly out of the corner of our eyes, the secret that we’re both carrying hanging heavy in the air between us. He’d squeezed my hand in support. A tight-lipped smile passed briefly across his lips, which failed to hide the sadness emanating from his own eyes. Perhaps he does feel the loss as much as I.
It does seem strange to those around us that after only just getting set up here in the UK, renting a flat in London, I taking on a new job, gaining a promotion in the process and Chris beginning to gain some traction in his car business, that we would want to up sticks and do it all again on the opposite side of the world. Especially when I won’t be able to earn an income and Chris will have to build up his business dealings again. Although he has used the past few months to purchase and ship another six cars across the world. They’re on the sea now and will arrive a month after we land. Once sold, their profit will essentially provide us with our income for the foreseeable future, so a lot rides on those deals selling well.
Mel had continued, “It still doesn’t feel real. That you’re going to live in Christchurch… and I’m still here.”
“Well you can come and join us anytime you want, Mel,” I’d said, “it is your homeland after all.”
“I will come home one day,” she’d said flicking her hair back with her hand, “but I’m still having too much fun here at the moment.”
Although we’re not sure, Chris and I believe Melanie has a new boyfriend. She’s not been down to the Gray’s as much during her free time, so we think the relationship with the farmer has fizzled out and she’s being courted by someone else, but she keeps her cards so close to her chest, no one knows for sure.
Saying goodbye to my own family was exceptionally tough. Granny Fenwick, my last surviving grandparent, is very old now, and the thought of not being able to get home quickly if something were to happen to her is very unsettling and my mum is distraught. You’d think I was dying. I think she believes I’m going to leave forever and she’ll never see me again. On the way to the train station after my trip north to say my final goodbyes, we had to pull the car over, so she could physically vomit. I’ve told her my current trip to New Zealand is only going to be a three or four-month sabbatical. An opportunity to tour the country from North to South, before coming back to the UK in the Spring, when in fact we plan to stay in New Zealand over Christmas until their autumn arrives, then head from there to the US to cross the states west to east, driving Route 66 in our planned trip of a lifetime. If we time our arrival in the northern hemisphere when their summer arrives, spending next May, June, July and August touring the US, then if we were to return back to New Zealand after that, there’s a good chance we might catch three summers back to back and avoid the cold of winter for the next 18months.
In another year’s time I’ll finally be able to gain New Zealand residency and therefore able to work and earn an income. By then, we will have eaten our way through all of our savings and the profit from the current shipment, so we’ll have to make a firm decision about which country we’re going to settle and work in. I know I could walk into almost any half-decent business travel job in London, but I have no desire to rush back to the pollution, noise and overcrowding of the UK Capital, but deciding to immigrate to New Zealand permanently in another year’s time is another huge leap. I’ll need to be totally 100 percent confident that Chris and I really can go the distance before I make that decision, although I think secretly that is what Chris is hoping for. Whatever job I accept next and in whichever country, it needs to be a solid addition to my CV. Otherwise I’ll get a reputation as someone who doesn’t stay anywhere longer than a few months which could damage my career prospects long-term. As it is, for this trip, I can only stay in NZ on a tourist visa, meaning I’m going to have to leave and re-enter the country every 90 days. I’m unable to work while I’m here and other than some of my own savings, I’m now also reliant on Chris financially.
On our final night in London we’d stayed in the Russell Square flat, on the trusty old airbed in the middle of the living room floor.
“This is how it all started,” Chris had said at the time, “on an airbed in the middle of my sister’s living room.”
“I know. Who’d have thought it? Almost two years later I’d be about to embark on a new life on the other side of the world. God I’m scared, Chris.”
“Come ‘ere, ya olde goose,” he’d said pulling me in closer. “What on earth are you scared of?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I’d replied, a hint of sarcasm in my voice, “I’m about to get on a plane tomorrow and fly halfway around the world, to live in a country where I know no one.”
“You know me,” he’d replied, “…and Dean, and Lisa.”
“Erm hardly. I’ve only met your brother and his wife once and I have no income and won’t be able to work.”
“You may have only met them once, but they’re family and you don’t need to work. I’ll look after you. Next question?”
“I’m going to be a long long way away from my own family. If anything happens, I’ll not be able to jump in the car and be home in a few hours.”
“OK I’ll give you that one. But how many times have you been back north in the past nine months. Twice? Three times maybe? And if you really did have to get back quickly, you could just jump on the next flight and you would be home within 36 hours - if it really was that much of an emergency.”
“OK,” I say finally, “you win.”
What I don’t add is the unsettling feeling in my gut that instead of this move being a new start for us both, I could be isolating myself even further from any of my own support network and could be putting myself at greater risk of being hurt by Chris. But I knew we had to try something.
The last weekend we’d spent hanging out with Michelle, David and Jessica, as pleasant as it was, had also been torturous when we had to say goodbye to little Jess. She’s six months old now and although she’s not yet quite crawling, she’s shuffling around all over the place on her bottom. Her language is coming along, and although not yet formed into coherent words, she still spends every waking moment babbling in her own little way. Smiling, cooing and pointing at everything as she delights in all the wonders of the world around her. The sounds of her sweet little voice ga-ga-ga-ing or ba-ba-ba-ing is magical. It’s the sweetest sound to my tired and worn out heart. Even when she cries, when she’s tired, or upset or just plain grouchy, my mothering instinct with her is so strong, I naturally want to comfort her and take her pain away, just as she does mine.
“You’re so good with her, Victoria,” Michelle had said as I’d played on the floor with her on one of our last days. “We’re both going to miss you so much when you’re gone.”
And you have no idea how hard this is going to be for me, I had thought to myself at the time.
“I’ll write you an update and send you pictures every couple of months,” Michelle had said.
“That would be lovely, Mich. Thank you.”
In the three months since making the decision, I have often asked myself if I’m just running away from all my problems, only to bring all the same baggage with me? Will just changing countries solve the issues between Chris and I? Will it help me heal my grief? Or is this unbelievable sorrow and guilt my own eternal burden to bear? Will putting some distance between myself and Jessica make me heal faster, or leave yet another hole in my heart to be healed?
I’m not 100 percent sure taking this leap with Chris was the right thing to do but staying where we were wasn’t an option either. Every passing day felt like a little bit more of me was dying inside.
“Almost there,” Chris says, leaning across me to look out of the window. “That’s Sumner Beach down there, and Lyttelton Harbour. God, I can almost smell the fresh New Zealand air already.”
I watch the waves rolling shoreward below, beckoning us to come and play. I look out the window and wonder what’s to come. Am I still searching, or is my search finally over? Is this it? Is the pain behind me? Have I found where I belong, where I’m meant to be? Or is this just another step in my journey?
I turn and smile at Chris. His energy has been fizzing ever since we left Bangkok 14 hours ago and we boarded for the final leg of the journey back to his homeland. I wonder how long it will be after we land before he’s off in his wet suit.
“Shall we take a trip to New Brighton tomorrow, you can play in the waves and I can soak up the sun?” I offer. “I think both of us will benefit from a bit of R&R after the craziness of the past few weeks and the long journey to get here.”
“Sounds like a perfect plan, followed by an overnight up at Hammer sometime this next week. I can’t wait to soak my back in those hot pools,” he replies.
“Me too. Then it’s only two more weeks until Christmas. Yay!”
“I know. Welcome to your first Christmas in the sun,” Chris says, gesturing outside to the big yellow orb in the clear blue cloudless sky. “This is going to be awesome, Vicky,” he leans over and kisses my cheek lightly.
The plane jolts violently as the wheels touch down onto the tarmac, bouncing us in our seats. Instinctively we both place our hands on the back of the headrest in front of us as we brace ourselves for the sound of the reverse thrust of the engines as the pilot applies the brakes, throwing our weight forward in our seats.
What a great metaphor for throwing me forward into this chapter of my life, I think to myself.