Clara is Smarter than You are

Chapter LX

THUS BEGINS THE FOURTH STAGE OF PIP'S EXPECTATIONS

I will always remember that day in the happy home of Herbert and Clara. The day I awoke to Clara sitting in my room, looking at me with a sly little smirk like she knew something. The day she was right about all of us.

I had not been living with them long, as we all were still in our twenties. I loosely played the role of clerk to that house, my main duty being to offer good company to my good friends. I spent the mornings and evenings with the both of them, and when Herbert went off to work midday I offered Clara my conversation. We would sit and talk and talk and sit, and through these talks I came to find that she and Herbert were planning on starting a family.

When Herbert came home later that same evening, I discussed the news with him.

"You didn't know, my dear Handel?" He asked with mild surprise.

"No, my friend, I did not," I replied.

From that topic, our conversation wandered, as conversations will do, and soon enough we were on the subject of marriage.

"Handel, you simply must get a wife of your own one of these days."

I paled at the thought. Although I had loved Estella, I could not bring myself to love another woman since. Perhaps that was her plan all along – that I should love no one other than her, that I should live my life pining for something I could never have.

Besides, I found Herbert's company so enjoyable that I would not want to disturb the lovely atmosphere of the house where they so kindly allowed me to live – Clara was the driving force behind that deal, advocating for my tenancy with a fervor unrivaled by the greatest of warriors – with a companion there solely to serve as a symbol of social status.

Herbert must have seen my acute change in color, for he asked, "Are you well, dear Handel?"

"Yes," I assented as I fought to keep my tone under control.

That night I could not sleep. Thoughts of Herbert plagued my mind – thoughts I would not dare to speak of at any other time but now. After I had exhausted my logic, I was soon overcome by jealousy. Was it not I who had set him up with this job, the job that had finally enabled him to "realize his capital," as he insisted on saying?

"I put my life into the making of your fortune," my thoughts manifested themselves out loud against my bidding, "and this is how you repay me? I make your future and now you bed Clara in the room next to mine?"

By the end of my first sentence I was pacing the floor, pulling my hair, and making a great effort to be vehemently quiet. It was approaching dawn by the time I had calmed myself enough to go to sleep.

The day had arrived.

I awoke not three hours later to the soft clink of a teacup being set down on a plate. Upon opening my eyes, I saw Clara sitting on the chair that had been in the corner farthest from my bed. She had pulled it close to my bed, and was having an early tea on my bedside table.

Upon closer inspection, I saw that she was wearing what might have been the dress of an aristocrat – something I had never seen her wearing before. It was of a dark blue color in exact accordance to the fashion of the time. Her hair was done up in a style I had seen only in the most high end areas, but that complimented her surprisingly well – she was always modest in her dress, almost to the extreme. Her soft, gloved hand held one of the many teacups owned in the household of Mr. and Mrs. Pocket, and in the teacup was a sweetened, expertly made batch of Earl Grey tea.

Seeing my confusion, the smile that played on her lips grew wider. Clearly she knew something which I did not, and delighted in that fact.

"My dear Pip," she began, her tone almost playful, "I do apologize for my intrusion, but we have some urgent business to discuss."

I felt horribly exposed, sitting still under all of the blankets with my hair ruffled from sleep, while across from me sat Clara with a posture not unlike Estella's, but softer. I felt as though she could see every part of my soul, stare right through my skin and into the darkest reaches of my mind.

She set the tea down on the table.

"I believe I mentioned that Herbert and I were planning on starting a family, yes?"

I nodded, recalling my vast experience with nods to make the most pleasing nod for the situation that I could.

"After hearing what you had to say last night – and I dare say many nights before –" here her face gained a little color, "I think we owe you an explanation."

"You do?" I will not commit to paper what I was doing those many nights before, but I will confess that I had to control my voice quite meticulously at that moment.

"Yes. When I said, 'start a family,' I didn't mean in the conventional way," Clara was clearly relishing her knowledge. She leaned closer, "I know how you feel for Herbert, Pip."

In that moment, I shot up into a sitting position faster than lightning, outrage in every cell of my body.

"What? How dare you say that! We are both good men! We would never do something like that!"

My indignation fell on deaf ears. Clara actually giggled.

"Your rage betrays you, Pip," she took the tea back from the table and began sipping it again, "Herbert feels the same, that I can assure you." Her tone indicated that Herbert had made it very clear to whom his heart belonged.

"Surely you know this to be immoral, illegal, and a sin," I fought, as I was foolish in those days.

"And I also know from taking care of my drunkard of a father that love is not a sin. Murder is, but love is not."

"You are lying! You want me out of this house! If you want me gone, tell me, and I shall take my leave of this country! But Clara, please do not exile me in this way," My protest grew louder with each word.

The post-sleep fuzziness had left my eyes by the time I heard the door creak open. Herbert appeared from behind the wood, and with a smile no less. He looked quite the spectacle, in creased and ruffled clothing, hair mussed beyond his usual style, and at the sight of my flushed face his smile grew to outlandish proportions.

Clara stood, tea with her, "My role is done here. I will leave you two to yourselves," and left the room with an evident smirk.

Herbert stepped in with all his out of place fashion to replace the unexpectedly high style Clara.

"Herbert, she's gone mad," my voice betrayed the fact that I was saying what I was saying at this point to fight a losing battle for the sake of propriety.

Herbert sat down on the bed next to me. That's all he did. That's all he needed to do.

Before even I knew what we were doing, we found ourselves in each other's embrace.