Clarence fiddled with the elaborate poesy for the sixieth time in six minutes. Six hours he’d spent on it, and he was on the verge of scrapping it again. A rose loomed from the centre of the myriad flowers, threatening to spill out. Clarence shoved it back in and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
He forced himself out of his groaning chair. The hour drew near, the hour that Clarence Cobb’s life rotated around every month; seasons changed, but Clarence lived his life by the calendar of Alicia Corval’s coming.
The Corval residence was lively that afternoon. Clarence’s heart had sunk to his feet when the time had come for her to leave for college; it had risen to the level of his stomach when he realised that she was no longer a child – and now, looking at her vehicle parked in the drive, his heart leapt and pounded against the upper bounds of his throat, threatening to sing.
‘Today, Alicia, I’ve come to tell you I have loved you all your life,’ Clarence said to the empty air.
There were voices coming from the living room window. Clarence caught his breath. He could see two figures through the lace curtains. A girl. A boy.
He stopped just outside. ‘I won’t disturb them,’ he said, ‘he must be a cousin, a childhood friend, perhaps.’
Yet he found himself creeping closer.
‘…But he proved too strong. What else could I do? I ran forward and snatched the sword from Helmston’s gut, and with a snick and a snack I took his head from him! Then I turned, and… there it was, coming at me from behind — but you know I’m faster than Helmston ever was.”
‘And I took the jewel from the very heart of the beast,’ the young man said.
’Oleander, you are such a liar.’ A giggle.
‘I brought it back for you,’ the young man said, and through the curtains, Clarence heard her gasp, and saw him sink on bended knee.
I would have done that. I would have stood under an avalanche for her. I would have fought beasts and dragons and gods. Clarence stood rooted at his spot outside the window, holding his wretched clump of flowers.
‘I say,’ a skinny beaproned girl said, prodding him with a finger. ‘Might I help you, sir?’
‘N-not at all!’
‘Ah, flowers for the young mistress,’ the girl said knowingly, and the flowers were in her hand. Clarence’s hands hung limp by his side.
’N-no…’
‘Very sweet of you,’ the maid said, giggling. ‘I shall let her know you stopped by.’
Trembling, Clarence watched her vanish into the house. He stood rooted to the spot.
‘Shall I find a vase for it, ma’am?’
Alicia Corval gave a light laugh. ‘That ragged thing? Don’t be silly, Lucy. Throw it out.’
Clarence’s feet dragged against the cobblestones as he trod the long road home.
