The Moment of Truth.
She had known the two boys since childhood. They had lived in the same street, played together as children and attended the same primary school. The three families had holidayed together, spent endless summers barbecuing and playing in each other's homes. David and Jansen treated Katy like a kid sister. She, being an only child, hero-worshipped both of them. But it was always David who waited for her as she dragged behind on their walks, who encouraged her to be brave, to learn to swim, who ran alongside holding her bike until she was courageous enough to allow him to let go, whilst Jansen dived off the highest board, wheeled down the steepest inclines, showing off his derring-do and prowess. At primary school the three of them spent break time together, both Katy and David protecting Jansen when the other children teased him about his strange hand, the only apparent defect in his handsome young person. Born with a webbed left hand he was teased at school, the other children taunting him and calling him ‘the 'man from Atlantis '.
When Katy was fifteen, her father was posted overseas and the family moved to Hong Kong. David, as a parting gift gave her a snowstorm souvenir of the Tower of London. 'Look at this, give it a shake and remember your friends in the cold snow of a London winter while you sun yourself out there.'
In the intervening years their lives were very different. Katy graduated in marine science, working in various tropical countries, enjoying life to the full; David and Jansen on the other hand had remained in Britain both of them going on to medical school and graduating as doctors, David in obstetrics and Jansen in heart surgery, still in London but at different hospitals. The three of them kept in touch, postcards of sunshine and sea from Katy and now and again a Christmas letter from the boys. Of course when Facebook emerged it was so much easier to share their lives. Viewing their posts, seeing photos of them both, Katy would pick up the little souvenir snowstorm of London, now very scratched and give it a shake and gaze at the snow falling over Tower bridge. She felt a longing for the nostalgic days of her time in England and to see her two old friends.
She arranged a six month sabbatical and arrived on a dreary afternoon in London, her first visit back in the ten years since leaving. She rented a flat near Highgate and it wasn't long before she met up with David and Jansen. Just as she remembered them but Jansen taller, better-looking, if she were honest, than the quieter David. Like many young doctors they worked hard and partied hard and the three of them enjoyed a hedonistic lifestyle. Extreme sports, wild swimming and fast drives in his flashy Alfa Romeo, his hands engulfed in his specially made leather driving gloves to accommodate his webbed hand, Jansen was always the life and soul of any adventure. However it was David who stole Katy's heart. He took her to concerts and art galleries, weekends for wind blown walks in the country and quiet evenings in hidden restaurants, and it was not long before she realised her childhood hero-worship had turned into something deep and enduring. Occasionally Jansen joined them on their excursions, always adding an element of excitement and joke de vivre and usually with yet another beautiful girl hanging on his arm.
Jacking in her job, Katy and David planned a simple wedding - close friends and family only, Jansen their best man - and they bought a quaint little mews house in London in preparation for their married life together. With a new part-time job as a lecturer at the local college Katy couldn't be happier, renovating the cottage , searching the antique shops for suitable furniture. A week before their wedding she asked Jansen to help set up her surprise for David - a top of the range sound system and antique chair from where he could relax and listen to the music he loved so much.
The bottle of wine which Jansen and Katy drank to celebrate the completion of house and home led to a second bottle and without knowing how it happened the two of them were making love with drunken passion before the glowing fire, snow falling silently outside.
Now here she was, married, she and David ecstatically happy apart from those dark moments when Katy suffered such pangs of remorse and shame. She and Jansen had vowed never to mention that evening again, not to each other nor to David. Whatever could have possessed her? Euphoria over finishing the cottage, her surprise for David and then, a moment of absolute stupidity after the wine-fuelled celebration? It could not be allowed to threaten their happiness or the men's lifelong friendship.She looked again at the snowstorm souvenir but could not bear to see it shaken, reminding her as it did of that evening of traitorous lunacy and the snow falling silently outside.
She had known the two boys since childhood. They had lived in the same street, played together as children and attended the same primary school. The three families had holidayed together, spent endless summers barbecuing and playing in each other's homes. David and Jansen treated Katy like a kid sister. She, being an only child, hero-worshipped both of them. But it was always David who waited for her as she dragged behind on their walks, who encouraged her to be brave, to learn to swim, who ran alongside holding her bike until she was courageous enough to allow him to let go, whilst Jansen dived off the highest board, wheeled down the steepest inclines, showing off his derring-do and prowess. At primary school the three of them spent break time together, both Katy and David protecting Jansen when the other children teased him about his strange hand, the only apparent defect in his handsome young person. Born with a webbed left hand he was teased at school, the other children taunting him and calling him ‘the 'man from Atlantis '.
When Katy was fifteen, her father was posted overseas and the family moved to Hong Kong. David, as a parting gift gave her a snowstorm souvenir of the Tower of London. 'Look at this, give it a shake and remember your friends in the cold snow of a London winter while you sun yourself out there.'
In the intervening years their lives were very different. Katy graduated in marine science, working in various tropical countries, enjoying life to the full; David and Jansen on the other hand had remained in Britain both of them going on to medical school and graduating as doctors, David in obstetrics and Jansen in heart surgery, still in London but at different hospitals. The three of them kept in touch, postcards of sunshine and sea from Katy and now and again a Christmas letter from the boys. Of course when Facebook emerged it was so much easier to share their lives. Viewing their posts, seeing photos of them both, Katy would pick up the little souvenir snowstorm of London, now very scratched and give it a shake and gaze at the snow falling over Tower bridge. She felt a longing for the nostalgic days of her time in England and to see her two old friends.
She arranged a six month sabbatical and arrived on a dreary afternoon in London, her first visit back in the ten years since leaving. She rented a flat near Highgate and it wasn't long before she met up with David and Jansen. Just as she remembered them but Jansen taller, better-looking, if she were honest, than the quieter David. Like many young doctors they worked hard and partied hard and the three of them enjoyed a hedonistic lifestyle. Extreme sports, wild swimming and fast drives in his flashy Alfa Romeo, his hands engulfed in his specially made leather driving gloves to accommodate his webbed hand, Jansen was always the life and soul of any adventure. However it was David who stole Katy's heart. He took her to concerts and art galleries, weekends for wind blown walks in the country and quiet evenings in hidden restaurants, and it was not long before she realised her childhood hero-worship had turned into something deep and enduring. Occasionally Jansen joined them on their excursions, always adding an element of excitement and joke de vivre and usually with yet another beautiful girl hanging on his arm.
Jacking in her job, Katy and David planned a simple wedding - close friends and family only, Jansen their best man - and they bought a quaint little mews house in London in preparation for their married life together. With a new part-time job as a lecturer at the local college Katy couldn't be happier, renovating the cottage , searching the antique shops for suitable furniture. A week before their wedding she asked Jansen to help set up her surprise for David - a top of the range sound system and antique chair from where he could relax and listen to the music he loved so much.
The bottle of wine which Jansen and Katy drank to celebrate the completion of house and home led to a second bottle and without knowing how it happened the two of them were making love with drunken passion before the glowing fire, snow falling silently outside.
Now here she was, married, she and David ecstatically happy apart from those dark moments when Katy suffered such pangs of remorse and shame. She and Jansen had vowed never to mention that evening again, not to each other nor to David. Whatever could have possessed her? Euphoria over finishing the cottage, her surprise for David and then, a moment of absolute stupidity after the wine-fuelled celebration? It could not be allowed to threaten their happiness or the men's lifelong friendship.She looked again at the snowstorm souvenir but could not bear to see it shaken, reminding her as it did of that evening of traitorous lunacy and the snow falling silently outside.
David stayed with her during the birth, not
an arduous labour but so comforting to have him there clutching her hand and
gently encouraging her. Their baby would complete their perfect little world. A
cry and here he was. Cleaned and swaddled in a little white sheet the nurse
presented the wrinkled little being to his proud parents. Like all new parents
they unwrapped the sheet and counted his
ten little toes and on to his hands. Yes all present.
Then
David gazed at Katy in disbelief and back again at the baby's webbed left hand.
