BUTTERFLIES FLY AWAY (12 page)

Monday to Friday she would go to the Portland Head
Light in Cape Elizabeth, Portland Breakwater Light and maybe the Cape Neddick
‘Nubble’ Lighthouse.  All in no particular order and weather permitting.
 Then if all went to plan she would book her return flight and her trip
would be over.

In lieu of a GPS tracker she sent her father an email
with a copy of her itinerary.  Listed the contact details of the airline,
hire company and hotels.  That would ease some of the worry on her
whereabouts!

Her suitcase lay on the bed and she started to pack
some items.  Summer had almost arrived and from the weather report it was
still a little chilly.  She packed warm items and lots of layers. 
Adding one ‘little black dress’ her favourite back up dress, the dress she took
everywhere on her trips with Rob.  It was a Donna Karan black chiffon wrap
dress.  Two or three or four seasons old she couldn’t remember but a
classic.  A pair of Christian Louboutin black pumps to accompany the
outfit.  Not that she intended having any need to wear it but she was
always prepared for any eventuality and the dress never creased in travel.

After sorting through the items to give to Rob’s
parents Carrie had stored the more personal items of theirs in a large
box.  It didn’t look out of place stacked in her bedroom.  She took
the lid off the duck egg blue and cream patterned box.  Inside she had
kept a multitude of items.  His watch, wallet, the broken mobile, his
lucky tie, and the cufflinks he wore on their wedding day, a bottle of his
aftershave, along with the copy he had of their New Year photo.  She took
out the watch and held the leather strap, just a faint aroma of his aftershave
embedded now sixteen months later.  She placed the watch back in the
box.  The cufflink box opened with ease and she stared at the shiny stones
with an abrupt snap the box closed. 

“Oh Rob!”

From her own handbag she removed some of the items
that had been her talisman and shield through these long months.  She
removed her battered 2013 diary, flicked the pages where she had scribbled her
fertility cycle with little heart shaped doodles.   So full of
promise and plans.  Their busy schedule, Robs business trips, birthdays
and events.  The empty perfume bottle of her favourite scent.  She
couldn’t part with it as it was the last bottle of perfume Rob had given
her.  All the little things that she could not part with but that had
their own individual memories.  Ticket stubs she had removed from the
kitchen pin board for events unattended; invitations to parties and weddings
with save the date tags.  She had kept the large embossed card for a friend’s
wedding.  The last formal invitation addressed to Mr and Mrs Davies. 
She emptied the pennies that she collected into a little velvet pouch and
closed the lid.  Her year of firsts now complete. 

The airline checkin for her flight was 5am. 
She declined the offer of a lift from her Dad, not wanting to get him out of
bed that early to take her to the airport.

“I will be fine Dad, I’ve already booked a taxi to
take me”

Her parents had a spare set of keys, had a note of
the code for the alarm and would check the house whilst she was away.  She
spoke longer on the phone than usual to her father as he went through his own
pre-travel check list with her.  Sometimes she thought that he still saw
her as the seventeen year old who got locked out of the house and tried to
climb through the porch window only to get stuck.  Stuck for all the
neighbours to see and laugh and gawp over her predicament whilst trying to help
her.  Not that she was a grown woman, a twenty eight year old widow her
window climbing days over.

“Yes, I’ve changed the timer on the central
heating.  The rubbish bins and fridge are emptied.   Bills are
all paid to date.”

They chatted for a few more minutes before she spoke
again with her Mum.

“I will text once I’ve landed and give you a call on
Saturday”

One final thing, she had decided to take Rob with
her.  She emailed the airline asking their advice on taking a loved one’s
ashes.  They replied that she could travel with them in her hand luggage provided
they were stored in a plastic tub for x-ray / security purposes.  She
printed a copy of the email and placed it with her travel documents.  Then
found an airlock tub in the kitchen to decant the ashes into.

She hesitated.  “Come on Carrie, you can do
this.”

Lined up on the table she had placed the cylinder
containing the ashes and the plastic tub.

She picked up the cylinder and twisted the cap
slowly until it separated from the container.  She didn’t know what to
expect to find when she looked in the tube as she had never opened it
before.  Hadn’t wanted to. 

A ziplock bag; just a simple ziplock bag containing
his ashes. 

She opened the bag, stared for a few moments and
poured half the quantity gently into the airlock tub.  The remainder of
the ashes she stored carefully away in the box in her bedroom back in a ziplock
bag.  Her decision was to scatter some ashes at the lighthouses and
somewhere closer to home on her return, when she was ready.

This she did not share with her family.  She
knew they wouldn’t understand fully what was driving her to make this trip or
to take ‘Rob’ with her.  She wanted to take him to the last place he
wanted to visit.  It felt right to do this.

It was dark when the taxi arrived and the cul-de-sac
quiet when she left.  She had gone to bed at midnight but didn’t
sleep.  She was showered and dressed before the alarm went off at
3am.  Her hair she dried straight and left it down to travel.  In her
bag she had packed some bands to tie it away if needed.  When flying she always
had a routine and it was one that she stuck to.   She dressed in soft
black trousers, a vest top with a shirt and boots with her grey blazer. 
Smart enough to travel but easy enough to change in the confined space in the
cabin toilets for the duration of her flight.  She had packed a warmer
jacket in her suitcase for her trip.

Wipes to remove her make-up, moisturiser to lash on
and a little pair of flight socks.  All of this packed in her bag. Mobile,
ipad, chargers, international adaptors.  The lighthouse book she packed in
her hold luggage. 

At the airport she checked in without fuss or
incident.  Although it took slightly longer at security as she explained
the contents of the airlock tub.  After re-packing her belongings back
into her bag she still had an hour until her flight boarded.  There was no
need to purchase any alcohol but something stopped her at the champagne
display.  Staring at the gold swirls advertising the luxury of the
brands.  The last holiday that they had taken together almost two years
ago they had bought lots of champagne to drink.  It was strange to her how
the memory was blurred a little now.  On impulse she picked up a bottle
and soon the assistant was at her side with a basket.  Carrie wandered
through the remainder of the aisles stopping to test some of the perfume. 
She sprayed the tester for the Tom Ford perfume and added bottle to the
basket.  More of an evening scent she picked up the accompanying day
version.   It was time to try something different as she couldn’t wear
her favourite scent anymore.

Too many memories.

Those early dates with Rob, her Wedding day, all of
which were the reminder of many happy times.  But now that favoured scent
she associated with sad times and couldn’t bring herself to buy another bottle
of it.

She bought some magazines and a supply of chocolate
for the flight along with a bumper bag of haribo.  Still thirty minutes
until boarding.  Mmm time for a coffee.

A couple of hours into the flight and Carrie changed
her clothes.  She removed her make-up, applied layers of moisturiser and
returned to her seat.  Five and a half hours to go.  The couple
seated next to each other had lifted the arm rest and were almost merged
together.  They untangled and Carrie returned to her window seat. 
They resumed their position and Carrie stared out of the window.  Nothing
to see but clouds.  Before she had boarded she had sent a text to her Mum
but there was no reply and she had to turn her phone off.

Carrie slept for the next few hours, ate a little of
the in-flight meal and declined any alcohol.  It wasn’t too bad.  The
love-struck couple remained stuck together for the majority of the flight and
she hoped they hadn’t joined the mile high club whilst sitting next to
her!  Yuck.

She changed clothes again, freshened up with the
miracle that was baby wipes and stared at her reflection in the mirror of the
cramped toilet.  She opened one of the bottles of perfume and spritzed the
unfamiliar scent.  Feeling a bit more human she returned once again to her
seat.

The connecting flight wasn’t until another three
hours.  When she made the booking it hadn’t seemed quite so bad but now
when she was waiting the time seemed endless.  Luckily enough there were
plenty of shops to browse at Newark until she boarded again.  A few more
purchases in her bag but nothing extravagant, just some knickknacks; key rings,
statue of liberty’s (even though she didn’t leave the terminal!) and
coffee.  Lots and lots of coffee.

At Portland it didn’t take that long to clear
passport control before she could collect her luggage and proceed through the
US customs and agriculture.  Again she had to explain the nature of
travelling with ‘Rob’ and she was glad for the millionth time that she had
printed the email from the airline. 

The shuttle bus to the hotel was waiting and she was
quickly transferred along with a few other travellers.  Exhaustion was
slowly creeping in from the lack of sleep before she left home to messing up
her body clock with the flight.  She sent a quick text to her Mum and
sister that she had arrived was going to sleep and would contact them when she
had surfaced.  Cliché time but she was asleep before her head hit the
pillow!

It had only been 6pm local time but back home it
would have been 11pm and she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer.  When
she woke it was 2am.  Damn there wasn’t much she could do at that time but
she was ravenously hungry.  Obviously catching up on sleep had also
awakened her appetite.  A review of the room service – thank goodness it
was 24hr and she ordered a sandwich and a drink.  She turned on her phone
and it bleeped steadily for a few moments announcing the messages that she
had.   The replies could wait until later for everyone as she didn’t
want to wake them too.  She checked her emails on the ipad – deleted the
majority of them as nonsense and checked her online bank account.  All
tasks that she had little motivation to do at home unless it was absolutely
necessary.  But at 2am she had time to waste. 

“What the!”

The balance available must be a mistake.  She
didn’t have that much money.  It must be wrong.  There was over £700K
in her accounts.  Now she knew why the bank continued to call her to
discuss her ‘arrangements’.  Clicking on the back button she reviewed
previous entries on the statement.  But it was correct.  An
accumulation of their savings, her wages, pension, insurance payments and no
mortgage payments.  Her Dad had tried to talk to her several times about
her finances but she hadn’t taken it in.  It was another one of those
‘things’ that could wait until she was ready.   The bank statements
at home, unopened in a pile of mail.  But she couldn’t think about that
now.  It was wrong.  Rob had always been very methodical when it came
to paying the bills and booking holidays, trips or events.  She hadn’t
been hopeless but left most of it to him.  When she returned she would
have to go through the file that HR had left all those months ago.  At the
time she had been in her bubble of grief and didn’t want to think of the
‘benefits’ that she had inherited.  But it was now time to take
responsibility for herself.

A knock on the door and she checked the spyhole
before opening that it was room service.  The tray was carefully placed on
a side table and she tipped the waiter as he left.  The thought of food
now making her feel nauseous but she knew she had to have something as her
stomach growled loudly.

“Okay, time to eat!”

She turned the TV on to break the silence in the
room. Flicked through the 100’s of channels available.  When she returned
to her ipad the internet session with the bank had timeout and she logged
off. 

“Oh bugger!”

She must have dozed off after eating her snack, the
TV still on in the background.  Disoriented she checked what time it was,
a little after nine am.  She placed the remains of her tray of food
outside the door to be collected by the housekeeping staff and headed for a
shower.  An hour later she was refreshed from her shower, ordered more
room service for breakfast and re-packed her belongings.  It was time to
leave. 

Time to see if she had made the right decision in
coming to Portland.

Time to see if there was any truth in the lighthouse
book.

Time to see if her instincts were right.

The sun was shining brightly when she drove out of
the car rental hire; put her sunglasses on to protect from the glare.  A
full tank of petrol and she was all set.  Carrie was a confident driver
but was glad to have the guidance of the satnav to direct her to Cape Elizabeth
and the guest house.  As informed it didn’t take her long to find route 77
and her base for the next week or so.   The guest house was beautiful
on the outside.  A large Victorian former sea captains home.  She
remembered from the website.  A wraparound porch with tables and chairs it
even had the obligatory porch swing.  The wood of the build gleaming white
against the green of the garden.  Its elevated position granting views of
the ocean.   Hanging baskets of flowers adding a splash of colour
against the stark white of the building.  One of the guest rooms even had
a little widows walk enclosed balcony.  Carrie romanticised imagining a
wife or lover waiting the return of their loved one from that balcony. 
Was it the Captains room?

She parked the car in the guest spaces and took her
little case from the boot.  Before she reached the door it was opened.

“Welcome to the Captains Rest Inn”

“Hi, I’m Carrie Reynolds-Davies, I have a
reservation”

“Hello Carrie, nice to meet you.  I’m Terri,
the owner of The Captains Rest; now let’s get you checked in.”

Carrie confirmed the details of her reservation for
five nights. 

“I will show you to your room.  You are in room
ten on the second floor.  Do you need help with your bag?”  She asked
as they walked towards the impressive staircase across the oak parquet
flooring.

“No I can manage, thanks”

Carrie could only nod and interject the odd word as
Terri pointed out names from the portraits on the stairwell.  At the top
of the stairwell the landing split into two, leaving the stairwell open. 
They walked right and up a further stairwell stopping at room 10.  When
they opened the door she saw that she had been given the room she had nicknamed
‘Captains Room’ just moments before.

The room was sumptuous.  A large mahogany four
posted bed, draped in a deep red velvet and gold fabric.  The same fabric
accented on the throws and pillows adoring the room.  A seating area
leading to double doors that opened onto the balcony.  Complete with
telescope.  A large fireplace with a high mantel dominated one side of the
room.  Carrie was enchanted.

“It’s beautiful Terri”

“Thank you.  The fireplace is gas powered; let
me show you how to work it if you need it.  The nights can get chilly
here.”

“If you need anything, anything at all, just
ask.  We serve refreshments every day in our front parlour from three pm,
all guests are welcome to join in”

“Thanks.  I would like that”

Carrie closed the door on the friendly retreating
face of Terri.  Terri looked young to be an innkeeper mid-forties in age
she guessed, short golden blonde hair that was layered around her face. 
She had kind eyes Carrie thought.  For the last sixteen months she had
maintained a defensive barricade around people.  Back home everyone knew
her as that ‘poor young woman’, ‘widowed so young’.  It would be a relief
to be away from people whose compassion and pity at times paralyzed her. 
Well-meaning intentions, kind words and bluntness had all been tried on Carrie
to release her from her self-imposed cocoon of grief.  

Her Gran, Nana Reynolds on her Dad’s side of the
family had told her to ‘pull herself together’ said at eighty six she herself
had been through a World War, had a young family and survived all of
that.   If she could achieve that, then Carrie could learn to live
again without Rob.  Carrie had visited her a few weeks ago at the nursing
home that she now reluctantly had to stay in.  A fall a few years ago at
home had resulted in the need for assisted living in a residential home. 
Nana had refused all of the requests from her children to live with them in any
of their homes.  Even her parents who had more than enough room to make a
‘Granny Flat’ were refused.  She didn’t want any fussing from the family and
refuted all requests.  Carrie loved her cantankerous granny for her words
of wisdom, sometimes delivered with acerbic wit but Ella Reynolds was a
straight talker, always had been, and always would.  Carries Father Dan
was the youngest of Ella’s children and the apple of her eye.  The last of
eight children, five girls and three boys in total.  Family gatherings on
the Reynolds side were always raucous with all the Aunts and Uncles and their
extended families.  By contrast on her Mother’s side it was just Kate and
Belle; no other brothers or sisters.  She remembered her Mother telling
her years ago she was overwhelmed at first when she met her future husband’s
family.   Struggled to remember everyone’s name and who was married
to whom or who was single. 

“Now what have you been doing to yourself
girl?  You are fading away to a shadow in front of us”

“I’m fine Nana.  I just haven’t had much of an
appetite, that’s all.”

Her Nana sat forward against the high back chair of
the sitting room in the day room of the nursing home.  The silver of her
hair in perfect curls, not one out of place.

“Pass me some of those biscuits you brought with
you.  I know you’ve still got a sweet tooth!  We can start to get
some meat on your bones again.”

Carrie opened box of biscuits as requested, sipped
her tea and chatted in general.  At her next visit the weather should be
better and Carrie suggested they go out for the day.

“Oh yes, that would be nice.  I’d enjoy
that.  We could go to the park you and Rob used to take to me to with the
lovely garden centre.”

Carrie gave a sad smile.

“Yes with the walled garden.  It will be nice
in the summer.  Rob liked our walks there”

“Oh my wee pet, Oh Carrie.  It’s time to let go
of your grieving.  I was fifty two when I lost my Dan.  Left on my
own with the children, although most were up and gone by then.  Just when
your Mum and Dad were starting out together too.  But your Mum .. oh she
wouldn’t say boo to a goose when I first met her; oh that soon changed!  I
think she wears the trousers in that house and with the family.  Ha! 
I never loved another man Carrie, but I kept looking.  They just didn’t
meet my high standards” she joked.

“Nana, I don’t want anyone else, I just want the
pain to go away”

“It does pet, just takes a while… But it does. 
Now pass me another choccie biccie.”

Carrie picked up her suitcase and rested it on the
luggage rack to prepare to unpack.  The large Victorian wardrobe had
plenty of hangers and two large fluffy robes hanging.  A basket lining the
bottom of the wardrobe containing slippers and all sort of essentials to help
you out if you left home without them.  The bathroom was also
sumptuous.  Despite the Victorian splendour of the bedroom the bathroom
was luxurious with the modern fittings.  A glassed double shower with
waterfall showerhead.  The bath a whirlpool Jacuzzi complete with a shelf
which contained an empty champagne bucket. 

Why had she not gone budget?  She must have
picked the most romantic inn to stay in.  No make that romantic place in
the world!  Four poster bed – tick, roaring fire – tick, double shower –
tick, Jacuzzi – tick!  Not what she expected when she made the booking.
She had been drawn to the history of the building and the surroundings. 

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh”

Her toiletries looked lonely as she stacked her
toothbrush in the glass.  She spaced her moisturiser and cleanser further
apart as if that would take up more space, then shuffled them back
together.  She had finished unpacking and spent some time familiarising
herself with the room.  The double doors to the balcony opened with ease
and Carrie stood taking in the view down to the sea.   It was a
little after 1pm.  Carrie had requested an earlier check in and this had
been agreed with the inn.  She was paying a little extra but at least she
was settled in.  Finally she took ‘Rob’ out of her bag and positioned him
on the bedside chest of drawers. 

“There Rob, what do you think?”

Time for some fresh air, a walk around the town or
bay.  Time enough tomorrow or Monday to go to the lighthouse. 

She sent a text to her Mum and sister.  Letting
them know she was safe and sound.  Told them the inn was lovely and her
plans to go for a walk.  A couple of replies later and she picked up her
small shoulder bag ready to explore.  A glance in the mirror and her hair
needed a quick brush, she left it down and added a little lip gloss.  Her
only concession to make up today.  

Terri was at the reception desk when she went down
stairs and full of tips for where to go during her stay.  She had some
leaflets for places of interest and recommendations for dinner.  More
information than she could take in but Terri assured her that she didn’t need
to take the car as everything was within walking distance.

“A left, then a left again, down the small hill and
she will be at the bay.  You can’t go wrong.  If the sea isn’t on
your right or left hand side then you have!”

The ringing of the telephone gave Carrie the
opportunity to leave without appearing rude.

“Thanks Terri” with a wave she was gone. 

Within ten minutes she was at the bay passing
several guest houses or private houses.  It was difficult to tell. 
All impressive.  She strolled from store to store.  Stopped at a
starbucks.  Woo hoo and fed her caffeine intake for the day.  
As a child she had loved the seaside and when she walked along the wooden
boards for the pier it reminded her of childhood trips to Blackpool.  She
could see the working lobster boats bobbing in the water. 

The sea rushing beneath the boardwalk, sea gulls
squawking.  There was a hustle about the Cape and Carrie felt a feeling of
familiarity.  Maybe she should have been a mermaid.  She loved being
next to the sea.  The coffee finished she found a suitable rubbish bin to
dispose of the cup.  There were boards offering day trips for tourists to
go fishing or tour the lighthouses.  But that’s were her land-legs
won.  She didn’t want to go on a boat on her own.   One thing
that she hadn’t planned for most of the shops was closed on a Monday.  She
would have to check if the lighthouses also closed or where open all year
round. 

She could hear a beep noise, checking her bag it was
her phone.  The caller display with Belles number.

“Carrie! Oh my God what are you doing over here??”

Before Carrie could reply her Aunt launched into a
tirade of questions a trait she shared with Carries Mum.

“Hello Belle.”

Belle was in Los Angeles and would be there for at
least a week. 

“Oh if you only told me Carrie, I could have tried
to reschedule some of my meetings.”

“Belle, I will be fine.  When did Mum call
you?”

Yes, her Mother had called Belle to tell her of
Carries wild goose chase trip.

“It’s just something I have to do for me
Belle.  I have to get a bit of the ‘old’ me back.”

They spoke for a few more minutes and Carrie
promised to let Belle know if she was staying any longer than her provisional
week.  They would try and meet up if she extended her stay.

Whilst she had been speaking to Belle she had passed
some shops and restaurants but as she was putting her phone back in her bag she
had stopped in front of a little boutique store.  Carrie wandered around
and soon added items to her basket; soya candles that smelled of French
lavender and black pepper, jars of bath salts with exotic scents and a lip
butter that proclaimed to make your lips more kissable.  Hmm she hadn’t
thought that one through but the packaging dared you to try or your money
back!  Well she wouldn’t have any need to be kissable but she had
neglected her usual beauty regime for so long.  It was time for a little
repair work.

A few dollars lighter she headed back to the
inn. 

The little parlour off from the main reception area
was set up with tea, coffee and even hot chocolate for guests.  A tray
with cookies and if a glass of milk was required, just ask the staff. 

Carrie took her bags up to the room but returned to
the parlour to have some hot chocolate and maybe a cookie or two.  The
sweet tooth she always said she inherited from her father.   She
brought a book that she had started to read but previously couldn’t get passed
the first chapter, poured some of the hot chocolate and nibbled on a
cookie.  She was unaware of Terri watching her from the doorway. 
Taking in her solitary air and the sadness that infiltrated her eyes. 
Something had happened to this girl.  Why else was she on the ‘other side’
of the world on her own?

Chapter two and the plot line drew her in and soon
Carrie was half-way through the book.  She hadn’t felt this relaxed in
months well not enough to read a book. 

“Mrs Reynolds-Davies?”

Carrie looked up from the book.  She had been
reading for over an hour.

“Please call me Carrie”

“Did you make any arrangements to eat out this
evening whilst you were out?  Some of the restaurants here can
deliver.  I can recommend some for you if you like?”