Londoners (Part 5)

All previous parts here. Tutte le parti precedenti qui.

James was still in his office. His hands typing fast, his mind elsewhere. Every two words he went back, cancelled and then wrote the same sentence because he couldn’t find any more appropriate way to tell it. He wanted to write her an email, though she was surely out for a run, as usual. He felt sorry for not having waited for her, however, he really couldn’t: work was calling and he had to answer.

She laid on the sofa all the afternoon, watching the sun setting behind the building on the other side of the street. The last train for Cambridge had already left King’s Cross when she started to feeling really nostalgic. There was a certain sense of melancholy, a bittersweet feeling of the time passing faster every year. To Annemerel seemed yesterday the day she dropped out of school to follow her dreams that never really came true. At least not yet. Probably, maybe, one day. Those words had been ruled her life since she met Adam, late that night in a pub in Notting Hill, the “Secret Garden”. Adam was sexy and kind, Annemerel’s dream man. But that was appearance and she soon had to deal with his obscure side. And then there was James. She had felt something for him since they first met on the stairs, on a warm summer morning. She had a few heavy shopping bags to carry upstairs, so she couldn’t introduce herself properly, he had his luggages and could not shake her hand, but they both had felt something for each other.

Even though he had soon found out she was dating another man, he never stopped taking care of her: he had helped her with the shopping bags every single time, he had looked at her from the window every single morning when she had set up for a run. Maybe. Maybe between them there was something. Or could eventually born something.

The plaid was covering her whole body and all her scars. Her flat looked so empty with only one person in it. Adam had lived there too long. She started by opening the wardrobe and throwing all his stuff in old boxes. She wanted to get rid of him. She wanted to get her life back.

James era ancora nel suo ufficio. Le sue mani digitavano veloci, la sua mente altrove. Ogni due parole tornava indietro, cancellava e riscriveva la stessa frase poiché non trovava un modo più appropriato per dirla. Voleva scriverle una mail, sebbene lei fosse sicuramente fuori a correre, come sempre. Si sentiva in colpa per non averla aspettata, tuttavia sapeva di non potere: il lavoro stava chiamando e lui doveva rispondere.

Rimase sdraiata sul divano tutto il pomeriggio, a guardare il sole tramontare dietro agli edifici dall’altro lato della strada. L’ultimo treno per Cambridge aveva già lasciato King’s Cross quando lei iniziò a sentirsi davvero nostalgica. C’era un senso di melanconia, una dolceamara sensazione del passare del tempo, più veloce ogni anno. Per Annemerel sembrava ieri il giorno in cui aveva lasciato la scuola per seguire i suoi sogni, che non erano ancora diventati realtà. forse, probabilmente, un giorno. Quelle parole avevano dettato la sua vita da quando aveva conosciuto Adam, quella sera tardi, in un pub a Notting Hill, il Giardino Segreto. Adam era sexy e gentile, l’uomo dei sogni di Annemerel. Ma quella era solo apparenza e presto ebbe a che fare con il suo lato oscuro. E poi c’era James. Aveva provato qualcosa per lui dalla prima volta in cui l’aveva incontrato sulle scale, una tiepida mattina d’estate. Lei stava portando le pesanti borse della spesa, dunque non era riuscita a presentarsi in modo appropriato, lui aveva le valigie e non era riuscito a stringerle la mano. Ma entrambi avevano provato qualcosa l’uno per l’altra.

Sebbene lui avesse presto scoperto che lei stava uscendo con un altro, non aveva mai smesso di prendersi cura di lei: l’aveva aiutata a portare le borse della spesa ogni volta, la osservava dalla finestra ogni mattina quando si preparava per andare a correre. Forse. Forse tra loro c’era qualcosa. O forse poteva nascere qualcosa.

La coperta in cachemire copriva tutto il suo corpo e tutte le sue ferite. Il suo appartamento sembrava vuoto con lei soltanto. Adam aveva vissuto lì per troppo tempo. Annemerel dunque aprì l’armadio e iniziò a gettare tutta la sua roba in qualche scatola. Voleva liberarsi di lui. Voleva ricominciare a vivere.

Photo credit: http://gethdpic.com/city-wallpaper/london-winter-wallpaper.html
Photo credit: http://gethdpic.com/city-wallpaper/london-winter-wallpaper.html

Have A Safe Journey!

Love,
Camilla

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