Ms. Lynch was now at the door facing Alfred. Her mind went back to one particular day, back in London when she had to resist the temptation to call Alfred.
“No, he is my student., I can’t do that. Stay professional and good friends,” she said to herself.
It was on the eve of her departure to the States. She knew that even though she resisted the temptation, she could not lie to herself that she had feelings for Alfred. After spending five years at Buxton Academy, she decided it was time to get back home and spend some time with her family. One of the reasons why she stayed on at Buxton was to see Alfred through high school. Ms. Lynch didn’t usually spend more than two years in her international assignments.
As she entered her car that afternoon, she knew something was not right. Her phone kept ringing, and she refused to answer the call. She peeped at the mobile again as it rang for the umpteenth time. It was Alfred, she suspected it.
She had been ignoring his calls for too long. It was a battle she had to win, she declared to herself. ‘It will be fine. Just one more week, I will be on that plane,’ she thought to herself.
She picked up her handset and dialled Alfred’s number, then cut it off. “No, I must stay true to myself and the profession,” she declared. She turned the phone off and drove off.
She spent the entire evening at The Grills. She ate and drank herself into a stupor. She had never done this. She felt alone. She realised that she was scared of loneliness.
‘What happened to all the prayers and all the angels that are supposed to keep watch over her?’ she thought.
As she laid her head on the bar’s table, something re-echoed in her head. ‘Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil…’
‘What is the shadow of death?’ she wondered. ‘Am I in the shadow of death?’
How she got home, she did not know, but the only thing she kept hearing was the doorbell ringing over and over as if in a dreamland. She stood up and went to the door. Here stood Alfred.
“Good morning, Miss Lynch.”
“Good morning.”
“I am sorry I woke you up.”
“It’s okay. Come in.”
She returned to her room, threw herself on the bed and went back to sleep.
Alfred was no stranger to Ms. Lynch’s home. Initially, the relationship started as Ms. Lynch being the protector of Alfred, then to being the unofficial mother or foster mother of Alfred. The relationship metamorphosed into that of Alfred being like a younger brother of Ms. Lynch and blossomed into a friendship in Alfred’s final years. Ms. Lynch was instrumental to Alfred soaring like an eagle at Buxton. Alfred owed her a lifetime gratitude. She helped Alfred navigate Andy through the process of submitting fresh evidence for a new court hearing. Emma Lynch meant the world to Alfred.
The place was in such a state. He helped clean the place up, washed the dishes, and left afterwards. He placed a brown envelop carefully under the flower vase on the coffee table in the living room.
When Emma Lynch woke up, she tried to reconstruct everything and could not. She went to the kitchen and drank water, made a cuppa for herself, picked up the brown envelop, and then went into the bathtub and soaked herself. After about one hour in the tub, she began to recollect the events… the events that would change the geography of her life forever. The resistance to make that phone call, ignoring all of Alfred’s calls, her outing at The Grill, and how she mysteriously got home. Her head began to hurt again. It was that sudden rush of blood to her head, and her entire body organs having to handle it. This first happened to her when she resisted that urge to call Alfred on the last day when she was leaving the school.
She opened the envelop and read the card: “To the woman who means the world to me, may you never walk alone in this world… those angels you always talked to me about, may they ever be present with you. I shall come someday and look for you.”
She read the words over twenty times, then finally summoned courage and called Alfred’s number, but it went on to answerphone. She tried a few times, and the call never went through.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we would like you to turn off all electronic devices as…” the voice droned in the plane.
‘Let me give it one last shot,’ she thought, then turned on her phone again and called Alfred’s number.
No luck.
She decided to leave a message this time around. “Alfred, I have tried to reach you without success. I wish you the very best in your future endeavours, and please, keep in touch. I am on my way back home…”
“Excuse me, ma’am, can you please turn off your phone?” the air hostess advised Emma.