Sunday 8th June
I think I managed forty winks just before Mum came in with a cup of tea at 9 o'clock. She said she'd left me to sleep a bit longer because she'd heard me up and about earlier and knew I'd had a restless night. She also said I looked dreadful and she wished she'd left me a little longer.
To be honest, though, I'm glad she woke me because I knew this morning exactly what I needed to do. I must have been mad to think I should just sit around Mum's house and wait for Clare to call. I have to go to her.
Just after Mum woke me I tried Sophie's number but it was engaged, and after that it just rang and rang. That doesn't matter, though. I'm sure Sophie would have talked me out of going But, I should have gone last night. What sort of husband am I, anyway? I know now that I was just being an ostrich. So, here I am, sitting on the train. Mum said she'll ring me on my mobile if there is any news from Clare.
I still can't think of a single reason why Clare would leave so suddenly, without an explanation, unless she was in some kind of distress. To go like that, without even a call, is completely out of character. Have I done something, unwittingly, that has hurt my Clare-Bear? I really thought we were close enough, and so in tune with one another, that I would have known if she were unhappy. I should have known. I wonder if this would have happened if we were still in Cloudcroft.
We were blissfully happy there; would have been content to stay forever. But when the company folded, there was no job for me anymore, at least not anywhere we wanted to live. I remember our first night in our new home; our cabin, nestled in the Sacramento Mountains. We were sitting out on the back deck, and wondering at the beauty of our surroundings - the aspen grove and the towering pines, and looking up at the star-studded sky, full of joy at our togetherness. When I looked at Clare with her gorgeous blue-green eyes reflecting the stars, I swear my heart beat almost as fast as the wings of the hummingbird that landed on our feeder earlier in the day, and I felt dizzy. Even then, I know I was fearful that I would lose her, one day; that she would fly away, just as the bird did when we tried to go too close.
Only two stations till my stop. I'm scared. But I have to do this.