Have Hope

Chapter 23

"When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me. Speaking words of wisdom, let it be." Paul McCartney, Let It Be

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Chapter Twenty – Three

Kit felt as if nothing would ever be as good as it once was. Olivia was gone. She had left. She had given up her room in the hotel they were staying in and she had left. She had climbed in a carriage and disappeared.

It wasn't just words. Her fears were not mere jitters. She had been completely serious and she had left him.

The feeling of being left behind was utterly bleak. It physically hurt, as if someone was stabbing him in the chest repeatedly. Kit mourned the life he had planned for himself and Olivia. It was almost like that person had died. He had honestly thought that he would be engaged to be married at this moment. And yet he wasn't. Olivia had been feeling all sorts of doubts for months and she had not told him. And God forgive him, he was so angry at her for it.

How could one person love, mourn and be angry at another all at once?

Kit had never experienced heartbreak before. He had never been in love before Olivia. He had never even thought that it would not work out perfectly. He had thought that she felt the same way about him.

In the back of his mind, Kit understood that Olivia did love him, she just was not ready for what Kit was ready for. He knew that the right thing to do was to let her go. She deserved to be happy, and if he could not make her happy then alas, c'est la vie.

But at this moment it was difficult to focus on the positive.

Kit had spent the next few weeks in a haze. He attended parliament each day but it was difficult to pay attention which was an added weight on his shoulders. How could he properly represent the people who elected him when he could not even concentrate on what was being argued about?

"You don't look well, Kensington. You haven't done for a while now. Are you ill?" commented Mr Ashcroft halfway through March.

Olivia had been gone for just over three weeks. Kit had not heard from her. She had not written to say she had arrived safe, wherever she had gone. It was another blow to know that there would be no contact, no communication with the person who had been his closest friend and confidante these last months.

Kit felt truly pathetic. There was nothing physically wrong with him, and yet his symptoms felt entirely physical. "A little under the weather," he replied, under exaggerating entirely.

"Take a few weeks," he instructed. "Go to Bath. You will feel better. Return refreshed ready to fight until the summer recess." Mr Ashcroft slapped him on the shoulder and left Kit.

Kit left parliament and found himself looking to the bench as he always did. Every time he saw it was empty, or worse, occupied by a couple, it hit him again. There were memories everywhere.

Kit was alone in London. He was alone and yet he had a very important job to do, and at the moment he was failing in that dismally. There was so much Kit wanted to achieve, and while he was feeling like this he was useless.

Mr Ashcroft was right. Kit needed to leave for a little while. But not to Bath. He needed to go home. He did not have anyone in London, but he had people in Derbyshire.

Kit needed his family.

***

Five days later, Kit found himself travelling through the gates of Norwood Cottage. Had he really not been here since September?