Work Text:
And so now you're gone
And I'm still here
Stuck with the same shoulda woulda couldas and what if's
That you left with me last year
And I hear you're fine
Heard you got out of this town
But my heart still jumps at the thought of you
Even though, please tell meHow do you do this thing called living?
When there's nothing more to gain
Tell me how do you get on with your days?
'Cause mine have turned from blue to grey
And no one at my door waits, for me, for me
Time was cruel to Kate, it took and took from her and left nothing in return. She had lost a week of her life to an accident, she lost months to sea, she lost months in this facade she had for London. Time took away her younger years, her youth. It made her grow up too soon. It came knocking with Death, unyielding and determined to steal from her when she had so little to offer in the first place.
Memory was even crueller. It was etched into her possessions, hair, clothes, and body, and she could never escape it. Memory decided what she should be allowed to remember fully and things that she forgot. Memories left could have been a dream that felt so vivid or they could have been reality. Time took her amma, and left faded memories in its wake. She could remember her mother’s voice when she sung but never the timber of her laugh, she remembered the shade of blue her amma adored, but not the feeling of the garment against her bare skin, She remembered the feeling of her amma’s kiss on her cheek but not the shape of her lips. Her amma was lost in her memory but even then it was faded, trapped behind a haze. Her amma was locked behind a door, and her appa died before he could give her the only key. Memory was also cruel in that it reminded her how much she changed. How she went from the little girl sitting in her father’s lap begging for love stories and poems, to sitting at that desk in the dark years later trying to balance their books.
Memory meant that she couldn’t help but remember the sting of Anthony's lips against her thigh, the warmth from his breath in her ear, and the feel of his hair between her fingers. She remembered it all so vividly. And now she only had that one night to take back with her to India.
Perhaps she should have accepted his proposal. It would have solved her problems. Anthony was a good man, he would help look after Mary and Edwina and she would no longer have to worry about money or status or anything. She would be free from the shackles that have held her since her father died. And perhaps she would have some freedoms and the intimacy would have as expected. But she couldn’t do that. She loved him, deeply and completely. She loved him with all that she could. And because she loved him, she couldn’t marry him. Not when he would be tying himself to another miserable marriage just out of a misguided sense of duty. She didn’t want to be in the room when his eyes turned cold toward her because he started resenting her for trapping him. She couldn’t love him as much as she did if it meant he was going to be unhappy forever. Her time in his company taught her that if there was a person in this world who deserved love, who had earned love, it was Anthony. And by the time she got on that boat, back to her home, she would be nothing more than a memory for Anthony. She just hopes it was as good for him as it was for her.
Kate knew how hard it was to feel like you belong. To find a home. And maybe that’s why she was so insistent on her departure after Edwina married, even more so as the shadow of failure followed her around and her family broke because of her. She had failed her job, the one thing she had to do, it should be no surprise that her mother and sister didn’t love her because she did nothing to earn it. If Kate was worthy of love… her parents wouldn’t have left her, Edwina wouldn’t have called them half-siblings, Mary wouldn’t have been giving her pitying looks, someone would have loved her back in India and Anthony would have chosen her. But she was just Kate. The Kate who everyone left and forgot about, the Kate that was always meant to be alone. She had come to terms with it long ago, yet the overwhelming self-loathing hit her in waves until she drowns in her tears. Kate was always strong, capable, and dependable and wasn’t the one to inspire anything in anyone.
It is as it always is, Kate was meant to be alone. It was easier that way.
She would always be in the way of things, a disruption. And sometimes she thinks about how the world would have been if she never existed, how much everyone’s lives would be simpler. Now she wonders why she even awoke from her accident. But alas, she’s awake and waiting. Waiting for her time here in England to run out, waiting for the memories to stop haunting her dreams. There's nothing more for her to do but wait.
A maid walks in, a tray of tea bought in with the spices she likes for her chai in a jar to the side.
“Anything else I can do for you, Miss Sharma?”
“Yes.” A pause. This was it. She reaches to the reticule filled with the last of her money, “can you please see about purchasing me a ticket to India? Preferably next Saturday?”
And everything we had was tainted to a dull blue
And I live with the knowledge that your mind is free of me
While my heart lingers on you, so tell meHow do you do this thing called living?
When there's nothing more to gain
Tell me how do you get on with your days?
'Cause mine have turned from blue to grey
And no one at my door waits
Tell me how do you do this thing called living?
When there's nothing more to gainFor me