The cool blue of the shady space under the portico of the Fitzwilliam Museum. Here Coppelia watched for him one glorious morning in early April. As it was half term week they arranged to spend a day in Cambridge, where he had taken H and her friend leaving them to shop whilst he visited an exhibition at the museum - something he had always done regularly. They enjoyed a quiet hour studying portrait drawings by Van Eyck, followed by a long pub lunch and an afternoon in the botanic gardens. They spoke of his forthcoming short holiday to Ostend, a coach trip to visit the Dutch bulbfields. This four-night Easter break was arranged through H's bowling friends. It would be 10 days before they met again, and that would be only for one hour. Did he hurt at these long separations? More and more Coppelia felt he was able to take them easily in his stride. Of course she wished him no distress, but her own grew more and more each time this happened. This wonderful day was over so soon, they headed back towards the town, then a quick pot of tea before he had to leave to collect the shoppers. She stayed in the restaurant, opposite the museum, still sipping her tea. He waved to her as he passed the window, and she turned to see the striking white of the back of his head as he hurried away.
Two lovers played around outside the window, laughing and kissing each other. She knew she should be happy, thankful, at peace. But Coppelia was none of these things. She hated the sunshine, the light, the joy of those lovers. How glad she was, though, to be wearing sunglasses, for they hid the streaming tears that burned her eyes and throat as they fell and fell, all the way to the railway station.
The cool blue of the shady space under the portico of the Fitzwilliam Museum. Here Coppelia watched for him one glorious morning in early April. As it was half term week they arranged to spend a day in Cambridge, where he had taken H and her friend leaving them to shop whilst he visited an exhibition at the museum - something he had always done regularly. They enjoyed a quiet hour studying portrait drawings by Van Eyck, followed by a long pub lunch and an afternoon in the botanic gardens. They spoke of his forthcoming short holiday to Ostend, a coach trip to visit the Dutch bulbfields. This four-night Easter break was arranged through H's bowling friends. It would be 10 days before they met again, and that would be only for one hour. Did he hurt at these long separations? More and more Coppelia felt he was able to take them easily in his stride. Of course she wished him no distress, but her own grew more and more each time this happened. This wonderful day was over so soon, they headed back towards the town, then a quick pot of tea before he had to leave to collect the shoppers. She stayed in the restaurant, opposite the museum, still sipping her tea. He waved to her as he passed the window, and she turned to see the striking white of the back of his head as he hurried away.
Two lovers played around outside the window, laughing and kissing each other. She knew she should be happy, thankful, at peace. But Coppelia was none of these things. She hated the sunshine, the light, the joy of those lovers. How glad she was, though, to be wearing sunglasses, for they hid the streaming tears that burned her eyes and throat as they fell and fell, all the way to the railway station.
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