Friday, 7 June 2013

Simple Twists in Reality - Part IV


At home we all collapse into our parlour chairs. “Well, that was a good night don’t you think?” asks father.
“Elizabeth, I don’t understand why you fraternize with that ridiculous young man. What he does is simply not respectable.” Wonderful, another lecture from mother.

“Mother, he is my friend. You can’t just make me stop seeing him. Father, I am feeling quite tired after that. Thank you so much for taking us. I truly loved it. Now, if you will excuse me, I will make my way to bed.” I kiss my father on the cheek and leave the room, walking up two flights of stairs and into my bedroom.

I take the gift that Lewis gave me from my bag and look at it. It is small and looks like a box. It is wrapped in gold and cream paper and there is a card with ‘Elizabeth’ written on it is atrocious penmanship. I can identify it immediately as Lewis’. I can’t help but wonder why he would have given me this. I open the letter first and read what it says:

Dear Elizabeth,
We have been friends for a long time, as I am sure you remember. I am terribly sorry that I missed your seventeenth birthday while I was visiting my cousin in England and am thus determined to make up for it. This is a small gift, not only as a birthday present but also as a token of appreciation for being such a dear friend and companion all this time, against the obvious wishes of your mother.
I hope that now I am back we will be able to spend more time in one another’s company. I have missed you immensely and it is my dearest wish that we will not be separated for such a lengthy period of time anywhere in the near future.
Your dearest partner in greatness,
Lewis

I look at the small square box for a moment before I reach over and start unwrapping. Inside is a jewellery box that has clearly come from Hutchinson & Co. the most respectable and expensive jewellers in town. I open the box to find a pair of beautiful white gold and diamond earrings. They are the most exquisite things I have ever beheld.

I lift them up to admire them further and place them in my jewellery box. When I come back to what I assume to be an empty box, I see a white lace garter with a blue streak in it. Placed neatly on the garter is a small note that says:

This is for your mother, to make sure that her opinion of me never improves. Tell her that this is what I gave you. Say nothing of the earrings.  

I laugh to myself, knowing that when my mother sees this she will become the living embodiment of Mount Vesuvius, ready and about to erupt. I rip off Lewis’ signature from the note and place it back on the garter. Then I close the box and put the real card and the remainder of the note in a drawer. Then I get ready for bed, intending to let mother find the present when she comes to me in the morning.

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