Clementine and Her Stalker Chapter Six

Chapter Six

I arrived back in Stamford around mid-afternoon, feeling somewhat demoralised. All journey back, my thoughts had been on Clem, and although she’d stated we’d meet again, I couldn’t see how. The chances of her returning to Stamford were surely zero, and although the girl had a will and mind of her own, the earl and his wife surely had strings they could pull to rein her in. In such a short time, she’d had such an enormous impact on me, from the moment I’d zoned in on her as she crossed Stamford meadows – but it hadn’t been all one way. I knew that because despite that damned nickname Stalker, that had stuck with all the adhesive power of superglue, she’d zoned in on me too. 

It had been uncanny. But I’d fought against my over-active imagination casting us as lovers and lost. For despite the certain knowledge that the idea was pure fantasy and could never ever materialise into fact, the romantic notion had begun repeatedly playing in my head. 

Now it was time to face facts, that I’d never set eyes on Clementine again, and trudging uphill from the station to my digs, my trainers felt as leaden as Army boots, and my ankles like they had bowling balls attached. 

The first year of my creative writing course was ending, and within a couple of weeks, I’d be returning home for the summer break. My inclination was to chuck it in, to leave Stamford, and never return. Even though I’d known her for such a short time, Stamford without Clementine would render the place null and void. 

At least back home, there would be no traces of her to torment my tortured mind. 

The following day being a Monday, I resumed my course, struggling as you might gather to keep my act together, so to speak. With so little time left before the college year concluded, my thoughts were in any case on returning home – when they weren’t consumed by the beautiful Clementine, that was. 

I had a two-hour interlude at twelve and used it by taking myself down to the meadows, where I stood in exactly the same spot I’d first spotted Clem that day. Leaning on the railings, I gazed out across the meadows willing for a reconstruction, although, of course, I knew that was impossible. 

But then my mobile vibrated in my jeans pocket, a quick glance revealing a number unknown to me. I was about to cut the call, but at the last moment, I pressed ‘accept’. 

A momentary pause before an equally unfamiliar voice came on the line. Not necessarily unpleasant, but kind of formal. “Am I speaking to a Mr Stalker?” 

I gripped my forehead between index finger and thumb. “My name is not Stalker,” but then I thought again – this call had to be connected in some way to Clementine, so feeling like an idiot, I added, “well, yes, it is Stalker, in a way.” 

There was a sigh on the other end. “Please can I have clarification. Am I speaking to Mr Stalker?” 

“Yes, I’m sorry.” I shook my head as if to clear it. “Please go ahead.” 

Another sigh. “I speak on behalf of the Earl of Hamborough. He respectfully requests your presence at Hamborough Hall at a time and date of your choosing, though the earl would prefer it sooner rather than later. I am asked to secure an appointment today.” 

My mind immediately flew into a whirl. What was happening here? This almost seemed like a summons. The earl wanted to speak – was this good or bad – and would I get to see Clem again? Why the heck was he asking, and how did I get to Hamborough Hall if I went along with it? I wasn’t even sure where it was. 

A cough on the line alerted me to the fact that this Evans required an answer. Tuesday next, my college year ended; therefore, the obvious option was Wednesday, and I immediately spurted that out. 

“That’s fine then,” the somewhat elderly voice croaked out. “I’ll relay this to the earl, and subject to his confirmation, which you’ll receive by written communication, the earl’s chauffeur will call for you, at shall we say 11.30?” 

I was gobsmacked and could only agree. What was going on? In truth, only the prospect of perhaps at least catching a glimpse of Clem again lured me to accept, but all in all, I was filled with trepidation.