For whatever reason, that seemed to be forbidden. There was always someone trying to keep us apart; but every chance I got, I sought her out or she me. Inseparable we were, that bond pulling tighter and tighter as the days grew on.
It had been this way since the day she was born. At night I would sneak out of the house and down to the little cottage where her family lived.
It wasn’t very close to the main house, but I was never too afraid to walk in the dark, because I knew she needed me.
I would stand watch over her at night while her family slept, until I grew too tired to keep my eyes open. Then and only then would I give into slumber.
In the mornings I would be found fast asleep in her nursery at the foot of her crib, where I’d usually finally fall asleep after keeping watch all night.
Sometimes her mother would find me there when she came to check on her in the night, but she would only smile and close the door again, before going off to her own rest.
Everyone else kicked up a fuss, especially my parents, which I didn’t understand.
Neither did I understand the whispers and the hushed tones. None of it made sense to a boy of ten and neither did the growing bond that had spanned three years.
With each passing year instead of waning, it only grew stronger. This seemed to be a cause of tension among the adults, but for me it was just as it should be.
No one seemed to understand, no one but Jasmine and I that is. Because as soon as she could form words and move around on her own, it was I she came to.
Even before her mother’s, my name was first on her lips. We were inseparable, as I spent my days teaching her new things and new words.
In the afternoons, as soon as my tutor was on his way, I would seek her out and we’d be off to our secret place.
Where I would watch her run and play to her heart’s content and my delight.
“Come Jasmine let’s go find the birds.” That was her favorite thing to do, trying to catch the birds in the trees.
Had I known then what was to come, I would’ve captured every moment on the new camera my dad had got me for my last birthday.
But back then at ten, my mind wasn’t on such things, besides it was better experiencing the real thing in the here and now.
How young I was then, young and naïve. But in those last few days had I known they would’ve never got me on that plane.
Chapter 2
It was a regular family trip, something we’ve done many times over the years, ever since I can remember.
That year I begged to be left behind with the servants. “Jasmine will miss me too much.” This was my argument to a mother who turned a deaf ear to my pleas.
No amount of kicking and screaming deterred my parents from dragging me off to Europe.
I’d defiantly spent the last night watching over her, asleep on her little big girl cot, as she liked to call it.
I remember the room in the old cottage; the way her mother had dressed it up to make it as pretty as she could for her little girl.
I was too young back then to understand such things as poverty and class distinction.
I never wondered why my little Jasmine’s father was never seen, or why sometimes her mother would disappear with her for days, which I did not like.
I did know that Anna was young, too young. I’d heard the servants whispering about it, though I had no idea what it meant. How could she be too young, she’d had the baby hadn’t she?
Such things made no sense to me and I didn’t much care anyway, so it didn’t matter. All that mattered was her happiness, seeing her smile as she ran freely around the gardens.
Hearing her bubbly laughter as she got up to some mischief or the other. The thought of leaving her for so long scared me even then.
Somehow I knew that without me there to protect her, things could go wrong. We’d never been apart for any real length of time. It was as if I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t function after too many hours away from her.
But who listens to the young? Who pays heed to the misgivings of a little boy who hardly knew what he was trying to say?
I was reassured that all will be well, as I said my final goodbyes to her. That day she had kicked and screamed even more than I had, refusing to release her hold on me, as our parents struggled to break us apart.
I never forgot the look in her eyes, a look of betrayal and abandonment. It was the first real heartbreak I’d suffered, that look pierced me to my soul, and stayed with me for a long, long time.