I wont forgive you!
I cant bear to see you, Yuri said in a flat tone, then hung up. On the other end, the redhaired beauty, now called Clara, burst into tears, slid down the wall and whispered about her mistake. Poor Yuri didnt hear a thing.
Once upon a time Clara had been the pride of her class and her school. She was a top student, and after receiving her Alevels everyone predicted a brilliant future at university and then a career in research. Until that fateful encounter with Victor, she believed life would unfold exactly as everyone around her said it should.
Claras mother, Margaret, didnt marry until she was almost thirty. She didnt want to be tied down, but her last suitor, a stubborn fellow named Ian, finally wore her down. He courted the headstrong Lily for five years, and she eventually agreed to marry him. Ian proved his devotion by organising a lavish wedding and buying a modest cottage where Lily immediately felt like the lady of the house. She had no motherinlaw; Lilys own mother had died a few years before Ian met her.
Ians father, George, met his future wife through a classified ad in the local paper. They grew close, married, and then moved to Scotland. So Ian had no relatives who might drop by unannounced.
Lily struggled to conceive at first. Two miscarriages followed by a successful third pregnancy, and Clara was born. Her striking blue eyes, button nose and cute freckles melted every heart. Her thick, coppertinged red hair became a point of pride for her doting parents. Ian remembered his late mother, who had the same glorious mane, and he swore Clara would be his one and only.
The biggest surprise was Lilys transformation. The woman who once thought the world revolved around her became a caring, tender mother and wife. Ian would return home to a tidy, cosy cottage where his beautiful wife waited and their mischievous daughter kept him on his toes.
One day Lily complained that a small house wasnt ideal for a child. Ian said nothing, but six months later he moved the family into a new block of flats near the town centre. The building was solid, the rooms larger, and Lily fell in love with the kitchen and sitting room.
Now weve got space to stretch out, and Clara will have a proper place to play. Look at all those kids in the courtyard! she exclaimed.
She was right. The pretty little girl quickly attracted attention, and soon a gaggle of boys raced to her balcony, shouting:
Clara, come out, lets go for a walk!
Clara, lets get icecream, Ill buy you two!
Their mothers giggled.
Looks like the neighbourhoods made a fuss over one girl, as if there arent any other girls around, they whispered.
When Clara started Year1 at the primary school opposite their flat, she returned on the third day disgruntled.
The teacher sat me at a desk with some boy. I dont like him. Hes quiet and never lets me see whats in his pencil case.
Whats his name? her father asked with a smile.
Clara huffed, Victor. Silly name, and hes a bit of a dummy.
Lily, assuming that such awkward pairings usually blossom into great love, watched on. By the end of the year Clara refused to change seats, and the whole class ended up sharing the same desk, only shifting rows. Teachers and classmates teased them, calling them a pair, but Clara ignored the jokes. Shed grown quite fond of Victor and wasnt about to let anyone else have him.
In Year9 Victor finally confessed his love and kissed her. Clara was a bundle of joy and embarrassment. Confident as ever, she announced to her friends that she and Victor were forever, because their love was just like in the movies.
Their romance wasnt always sunshine. Impulsive Clara loved to tease Victor, making him nervous with jealousy, or flirting with other boys just to see his reaction. He got into scraps because of her, and older lads gave him a hard time. His mother would sigh, Dont get involved with her; shes willful and capricious. Shell never let you live in peace.
Victor shot back, Clara isnt like that shes just playing. Deep down she loves me, and well stay together till old age.
His mum shook her head, I wouldnt count on that. She knew the more Clara pestered Victor, the quicker hed run away. Victor inherited his fathers shorttemperedness; hed snap, send someone packing, and his own mother had felt that sting. Thats why his own father had left, refusing to tolerate Claras theatrical antics any longer.
Victors mind went blank whenever Clara was around, especially when she beamed with that mischievous smile. He felt the world freeze, leaving only her and her twinkling eyes.
But Claras charm didnt turn her into an angel. She could slam doors in his face, tell him he was bored, then mock him in front of friends, showing how shed trained him. Victor would explode, swear at her, then beg for forgiveness.
Clara, too, apologized often for her outbursts. Fierce jealousy and stubbornness sparked serious fights. They even argued at their graduation party, only to reconcile three days later, swearing eternal love while strolling along the river, watching the sunset and stealing kisses.
One evening Victor said, I get scared thinking I might lose you. What if you meet someone better?
Clara pressed her cheek to his, Dont be silly. Who could be better? Were applying to university together. Which course do you want?
I havent decided yet, Victor admitted. Studying isnt really my thing. Id rather get a job and earn real money.
And where will that take you? Clara teased. No degree, no career. Youll spend your life serving someone else, running on all fours.
Running for whom? Victor snapped.
At least for me. Ill get a degree, chase a scientific career. What will you be doing? Selling fruit at a market or sweeping a road? Ill be embarrassed to tell anyone Im with you.
Victor flared, So youre already ashamed of me? Acting like youve got a doctorate?
Clara grabbed his hand, What did you call me?
Victor shrugged and walked off, never looking back. Clara stayed, biting her pale lips.
Why did I even say that? she muttered, then called Victor, but he didnt answer. She was furious at herself.
She decided, If hes gone, Ill have a dozen admirers at university.
That year Clara failed to get into any university. Out of spite, she headed to a nightclub, determined to prove Victor wrong.
At the club a tall, darkhaired bloke in his late twenties approached, looking like a character out of a teen drama.
Your cocktail, love, he said, handing her a glass.
She eyed him curiously. He was fit, confident, and exuded a swagger she found irresistible.
Im Jack, he smiled, raising his glass of amber liquid.
Clara introduced herself, and Jack proposed a toast to new acquaintances and even a dance. He escorted her to the floor and kept her in his arms all night.
When he walked her home, he whispered, Ill die if you dont call me.
Clara promised she wouldnt let that happen and dialed him later. The memory of Victor faded completely; she thought, Why bother remembering the past?
Jack threw himself into courting Clara, showering her with gifts that left her speech
