The Flight

“Can peacocks fly?”

“What?”

“Because of their tail feathers?  I’ve always wondered, that’s all”

“That’s so typical of you Kate,” he didn’t sound exasperated.  “Are you even listening to what I’m saying?”

She was listening; she just didn’t want to hear what was being said.  She didn’t want to have this conversation, not here, not right now.  She had always loved it here; the peace and the tranquillity in this part of the garden as opposed to the hustle of the castle grounds.  That had changed of course, over the years.  As a child it was exactly the theatrics and excitement she had loved, but as she grew up it was the absence of it she welcomed when she came here.

Now it was ruined.  Now it would always be associated with this heartbreak.  Why had he brought her here?  Why not some more private place?

She wondered when it had all changed.  She had been so certain that he was the one.  But then, she always was.  In love with love.  Yet recently, she had to admit, she had been aware that little things were starting to irritate. 

She hadn’t seen it coming.  He had been quieter of late perhaps, pensive, but she hadn’t paid any real attention to it.  He had a demanding and responsible job, and men rarely talk in the way women wish they would.

But Fiona had seen him last week.  He had tried to brazen it out she said, act as if it was all very ordinary; but he had seemed sheepish she said, and so happy.

“Did I do the right thing?  Telling you?  Oh god I shouldn’t have told you!”

No, she was glad Fiona had told her.  At least now she was prepared.  The week had given her time to reflect on her own feelings; on what it was she really wanted.  Would she try to change his mind she had wondered? Talk him into carrying on as they were?  But she knew she wouldn’t. She felt one way and he felt another, and there was no point thrashing it out.  It would have to be said and it was better out in the open.

Did peacocks mate for life she wondered?  Did one of them ever turn to the other and say “You know what; this just isn’t working for me”?

“Kate!” His tone sounded urgent and dragged her out of her reverie.  “Kate…”

“Oh god, please don’t do this now” she thought. “I can’t bear it.”

 Too late. 

“Oh god, he’s down on one knee!”

The ring stood proud in the box, - the same box Fiona must have seen him paying for in Latimer’s last week.

“Kate, will you marry me?”

She looked at his face - a face she had kissed so many times, that had lain so close to her own, and she gave a half sob.

“I’m so sorry Ben.  I’m so sorry.  I can’t.  I can’t.”  She couldn’t look at his face again, couldn’t bear to see the shock and pain.  He must have been so certain.  She just looked at her feet, and noticed the polish was chipped slightly on her one of her toes.

She got up, brushed past him and hurried away.  Left him there, still on one knee, with the ring becoming blurred in front of him.

And a peahen flew up to the shelter of a low branch.

 

Sharon