Goodbye Doesn't Mean I'm Gone
Disclaimer: I don't own Spike. This story is pure fiction and has been created for other's enjoyment as well as my own. Callista is my own character.
Background note: A little history on our girl, Callista-- When Spike was still known as William Harrington (pre-vampire), he was friends with Callista in his native England. They grew up together and did everything together. And I do mean everything (wink,wink). That is where our story begins.
Mr. and Mrs. Harrington were sending William sending away to Paris for university. Why did they feel the need to break us up? Billy and I had been together since we were born. Our parents belonged to the same elite clubs and societies of London. For years now, Billy and I had been under the impression that our parents had secretly been planning our marriage. We enjoyed each other's company and were able to talk about anything. Did our parents know the depth of our relationship?
That was the only conceivable reason Billy would be sent away from London. Over the past two years, Billy and I have been meeting on secret rendezvous when we should have been at our respective boarding schools. At first, our meetings were purely verbal. Being with all-boys and all-girls all day could leave you yearning for some conversation from a member of the opposite sex. We had planned them just right, so that no one would be the wiser. After the fourth or fifth time, things changed. The usual note stating the time and place was now signed 'Love, your Billy.' I knew my Billy. He would never sign something 'Love' if he didn't mean it. I took some extra time getting ready that night. From that day forward, feelings and actions were escalated with each meeting. Our last rendezvous almost got us in trouble. We were both a little late arriving back at our schools. Luckily, some smooth talking had gotten us out of punishment.
Billy and I graduated on the same weekend and were able to attend each other's commencement ceremonies. Our parents had come up together, so Billy and I had to return together with them. We acted appropriately on our journey to London. We did not allow our parents to know we had been carrying on a very heavy relationship for the past year. They were under the impression that the only girlfriends and boyfriends were the ones prescribed by our schools for such things as masquerades and high teas. Only once had Billy and I been paired up at such an event. Our relationship would remain a secret if Billy and I had anything to do with it.
Summer had been full of holidays and excursions. My parents had planned some with the Harringtons' and some were solely for my own family. Yes, we visited some beautiful places such as Athens and Brittany, but the only thing I care about was Billy. He was always what made the trip. Without him along, the smiles that adorned my face were false. Put there to make people think I was happy, but truthfully, I was yearning to see my Billy again. Some of these holidays were weeks long. It was then that I began sending letters to
him. My parents had times when they made plans for themselves. I would assure them that I would find something to do. They would leave me and I would begin my letter. On average, I would have two hours to write the letter, find an envelope and stamp, and bring it to the front desk. There was only one time Mum and Da caught me at the front desk. They had arrived back early from whatever exciting places they had been seeing. I explained that I had been out and forgotten the key in the room. Mum and Da did not find this awkward, because I was known for forgetting everything. I went up to the room with my parents and the clerk never told my parents the truth. Soon, the holidays ended and we returned home for the fall. For the first time, Billy and I would be in London for the fall.
Mr. and Mrs. Harrington, her parents, or Billy himself did not make the announcement that he was going to Paris. I had to hear it from one of our maids. She had been talking to one of the Harringtons' maids about how they had been packing Billy's clothes for days. Billy did have a lot of clothes, but why were they packing them? I thought as I stood listening at the door. The maid went on and explained that all of Billy's possessions had to be packed by tomorrow. Tomorrow? I was surprised Billy had not mentioned he was
going anywhere. He usually informs me of everything he does especially such we have become lovers. The next word I heard was Paris. As in France, as in a sea and many miles away from here. I could not listen to this anymore. This was all a lie. He would not be leaving me.
I found solace in my room until there was a knock at the door. Jensen, our butler, stood in my doorway and announced that Master Harrington was here to see me. I knew Billy was forbidden to come into my bedroom, so I exited my room and Jensen led me to my Billy.
Billy stood in the foyer looking as handsome as ever. He was wearing his brown knickers and a brown jacket. His white undershirt had been a present to him from me. I had stitched a small heart in the collar. Jensen watched Billy kiss my hand and then he left to do his own work.
"Would you like to take a walk with me?" Billy asked, properly. I knew he was worried that my parents were home.
"They are not home, so you don't have to be so proper," I told him in my matter-of-fact tone. "Yes, I would like to take a walk with you."
Billy took my wrap from the hook by the door and draped it around my shoulders. He opened the door and we began to walk away from the house. There were one place on my estate that both Billy and I agreed was the most beautiful: the garden maze. Billy was already leading me in that direction. We did not say a word until we were to the entrance and out of hearing range of the house.
"How are you, my Callista?" he said directly into my ear. My pulse was risen about thirty points and I felt so special.
"I am eternally yours, my William," I answered. He knew I would admit my feelings away from the eyes and ears of the house.
"You know I love you. I have for months now. That is why it is hard for me to tell you this next bit of news."
"What is it, my love?" I was scared that something terrible had happened and then, I remembered what I had been upset about earlier.
"My parents are sending me to Paris. There is a university that specializes in English Literature. You know that is my passion and my father has gotten me in there for this semester."
"When do you have to leave me, Billy?" A tear had begun to fall from my eye.
"Tomorrow. I know this is very short notice, but I was just informed myself. I don't want to leave you. I wish you could come with me." Billy had seen my tears and caught each one of them as they dropped to my chin.
"Oh, Billy." Those were the only words that came to mind. In my bedroom, I had thought I would give him a piece of my mind for not telling me sooner, but everything disappeared in the reality of the situation.
"Callie, remember 'Goodbye Doesn't Mean I'm Gone.'"
That had been our rendezvous send-off. We both had to say those five words before we were able to leave. It made an impact on me because during those times when we weren't together, I could just imagine him saying 'Goodbye Doesn't Mean I'm Gone' and I instantly felt better.
"I know, 'Goodbye Doesn't Mean I'm Gone.'"
We continued through the maze with uttering another word. We had said our goodbyes, but we could not leave each other's presence just yet. Billy was still the person I loved and cared about the most and he was leaving me. But, right now, he was mine and I was his. We were together eternally.
Billy took me back to the house and made sure I would be all right. I assured him that I would not do anything drastic in his absence. He whispered, "That's my girl" in my ear and kissed my hand again. The last words he spoke to me that night was information on what time he was leaving. He was on the nine o'clock morning train. He told me I was invited to send him off. A quick glimmer in my eye told him I would be there no matter what. He left me and I watched him ride off to his estate. That night, I slept fitfully.
Morning came and I knew my life as I knew it was ending. Billy would be leaving and I could do nothing to stop him. I had to face that we were prisoners of our parents until such time that we could admit our
feelings. Today would be no different than any other day was the act I was going to play with my parents. I went downstairs, ate my breakfast, and came upstairs to get dressed. I took into consideration that this was the way Billy would remember me when he was in Paris. Everything was on schedule. At eight-thirty, I
informed my parents that I was going for a ride. They told me to have a good time and to be back by supper. I took my horse, Kismet, out of her stall and saddled her up. The ride ahead was neither hard nor new. I rode directly to the small local station where the train would take Billy away. When I arrived, the servants were still loading Billy's possessions. Mr. and Mrs. Harrington were talking to the conductor and Billy was standing by waiting.
"Guess who?" I had snuck up behind him.
"Queen of Sheba?" he asked.
"No, but close. Think a little more spoiled."
"Callista Thomas. The only woman whom I ever loved."
"Shhhhhh! Don't say that too loud. Your parents may hear you." I removed my hands from his eyes and put a finger to his mouth.
Billy playfully bit the tip of the finger and said, "I would shout it from the tallest of the Alps if you would like.
"That would be perfect."
"William, the train is about to leave. You should board right now," his father ordered.
"Stay here until the train is no longer visible."
"I will." Billy gave me a kiss that made me see fireworks. By the time I opened my eyes, he was gone. Suddenly, he was at the window of his car. He smiled and waved to his parents and servants. The train started making more noise. Soon, he began to move away. As his car moved past me, I saw something in the window. Quickly, I read the handmade sign posted. 'Goodbye Doesn't Mean I'm Gone' You will never be gone from my heart, Billy, never, I vowed. My eyes were on that car that carried my Billy away. We would not see each other for years, but never a day went by without me thinking of our goodbye.
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