Forever and a day: When time becomes a gift

By Matteo Caddeo

London Police Officer David Calvi doesn't work at his old department anymore; not since everything happened with the girl he promised to love forever even though he couldn't stop losing her. After meeting the love of his life, Emily, David struggles to keep their relations

• Language: English
• Publisher: MCB Pulishing Ltd
• Release date: Aug 3, 2021
• ISBN: 9781527297005

Matteo Caddeo

Matteo Caddeo, born in Italy in 1987, was taught that he was not able to write. At school, his essays collected too many bad marks, and the teacher always reproached him, saying that he wasn't using his brain... Indeed, he always used his heart instead. After many tough years at school, Matteo tried to find his ideal job but nothing made him feel like he had found what he wanted. Finally, in 2016, even though he was alone and couldn't speak English, he moved to London and in October 2018 he found himself writing Forever and a Day. For Matteo, the passion for writing came from pain, but he also believes that the pain and struggle we all go through during our existence are our blessings. They shape us and allow us to become better human beings and value our life more.

Book preview

Forever and a Day

Matteo Caddeo

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Publisher: MCB Publishing Ltd

Email: [e-mail]

Author: Matteo Caddeo

Email: [e-mail]

Instagram: @matteocaddeo

Editing by Kathryn Monsewicz

Cover by RebecaCovers

2021 First Edition

ISBN 978-1-5272-9643-5 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-5272-9700-5 (eBook)

Copyright © 2021 MCB Publishing

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

I was alone, locked in my room, tired, but I couldn't sleep. Besides, why did I have to be asleep? It was a beautiful day at the end of July and the strong sun filtered through the window, hitting the wooden floor, making it clear that summer was here.

I was probably the only person in all of London to have stayed at home that day. I had something else on my mind and the last thing I felt like doing was enjoying the good weather.

It had been over a month since I hadn't seen or spoken with anyone. I wasn’t going to work or answering my friends' and parent's calls. Everyone was worried about me, and I knew it well. Despite that, I ignored them.

I was breathing hard and my heart was beating fast. I had been lying on my bed for several hours and in front of me, there was only the white-painted ceiling that time had aged to the point of turning it into a cream color.

Time… the same time that had aged the paint also changed people, objects, and the whole world.

I have always believed that all the answers were hidden in time. It teaches you to be patient and wait because, sooner or later, what you are looking for will come to you. That's right, what you look for. But what is time after all? I didn't know, and yet I was mad at it. Because of time, I had so much suffering inside. I was tired and depressed and it was the fault of time which did not want to pass. Time did not want to give me what I was looking for and thus heal me.

I was tired of suffering, tired of looking for answers, and tired of trying to change with all my strength what time did not want to change, or rather, alleviate: pain.

That was exactly the problem. I was waiting to receive something that would heal me without me doing anything or giving something first.

I wanted someone to make me feel better but frankly, I wasn't doing anything to make anyone feel good in the first place, much less myself.

How many times have I found myself thinking, Can I ever be able to make someone else feel better? And then, Is it my responsibility?

The answer is yes. Not just my responsibility but the responsibility of all.

We believe that the right thing to do in life is to receive before giving. This couldn't be any more wrong. Actually, this is one of the reasons why we suffer most of the time. We stay there, waiting to receive what we believe we are owed, often receiving only disappointment.

It was just me that day, locked up in my room for too long now, waiting for someone or something - time - to rescue me, tearing away that pain that was now rooted in my soul.

I waited and cried. I waited, and the help didn't arrive. I cried again and then I got angry with time. It had been like this for months.

But that day something happened. A notification appeared on my phone, so I picked it up and what I saw was a sad realization but it was the help I needed. It was a reminder I had set. Remember to pick up Rosa at 6 pm. It was my niece's birthday and, although we were very close, I forgot.

Unlike myself, my dear niece loved to read. For some years now, I had been giving her books, which I chose carefully each time to make sure she would like them.

She says that reading makes her dream, gives her peace, and she almost considers it a cure for sadness. She always waits for the evening to get into bed and read her favorite science fiction and romance books until she nods off to sleep.

How do many people feel alone when they can just pick up a book and read? She asked me a few years earlier, but I didn't know how to answer. Once she even told me that, in her opinion, reading can save your life.

However, for that birthday of hers, she would not receive any books from her uncle.

I was ashamed of myself, but that was also the moment I realized that I had been asking myself the wrong question.

Why doesn't time go by fast enough to heal me? I wondered before. Then, the right question started to make its way inside my mind.

Who is responsible for my pain? Is it time? Or maybe I'm the one responsible. And finally, how am I using the time I have been given?

That was what I should have asked myself from the beginning, and when you ask yourself the right question, the right answer soon comes after.

I was spending my time waiting for something to happen, waiting for an act of kindness, love, help...

But we can't expect to receive all of this if we don't first put passion and commitment into creating positivity within ourselves and for others.

The truth is, it's easier to blame something or someone else than ourselves. Understanding that was one of the most important lessons that life gave to me.

I immediately knew what I had and wanted to do, but I still didn't know how to do it.

I wanted to give something to someone, or maybe the whole world, but how?

Then I thought about what my niece told me. Reading can save your life.

Then write, said a voice in my head.

And that was the moment I stopped waiting and started doing something that could have made someone feel better, or even saved their life.

I'm sorry, sweetheart. This year I couldn't get you a book for your birthday, I said to Rosa, mortified, as we were walking in the park.

Don't worry, uncle. I just want you to be okay, she said, grabbing my arm. I can always read again one of the books you gave me last year.

I stopped, looked at her, and smiled. What if you will read my book instead? I asked her.

Your book? she asked, arching her eyebrows.

Yes, the book I'll start writing tonight.

Her eyes lit up. Are you going to write a book?!

Yes! Will you read it?

I can’t wait! Is it a love story? she asked me, never breaking the smile that spread across her face.

Of course, but not only that. It will also talk about time.

Rosa smiled, It will be my favorite book ever. Then she paused briefly. Uncle…

Tell me, sweetheart.

Telling me this was the best birthday present you could have given me today. Thank you!

Happy sixteenth birthday, Rosa, I said, impatient to go home and start writing the story I had to tell.

FIRST PART

True love is like ghosts, which everybody talks about and few have seen.

François de La Rochefoucauld

CHAPTER 1

It was a morning like any other and the atmosphere in the London Metropolitan Police Station was at its usual pace: hectic. There was a back and forth of police officers both in uniform and in plain clothes engaged in arrests and investigations. If you didn’t have a purpose there, then you’d certainly feel out of place. Even the officers at their desks were busy. David sat outside the chief’s office who, at the moment, was busy with one of the other officers. He was not too tall, but well built and had deep brown eyes, robust black hair, and olive-toned skin. His features certainly did not seem English, but rather his Mediterranean background was easily noticed.

David also wore a uniform that was a little different from that of the other uniformed officers. It was completely black and thicker than the classic Metropolitan Police uniform. The taser and handcuffs were not hanging on his belt but were located on the front of his body at his chest. He had on a thick bulletproof vest plus magazines and a pistol in his leg holster. This was the uniform of the Specialist Firearms Command, the armed unit of the metropolitan police.

As he sat there, waiting, his gaze was lost and he barely blinked.

He placed his hand with an open palm on his right breast pocket on the front of his uniform and left it there for a few seconds before putting his hand inside and taking out a photo. He looked at the photo with a face you couldn’t read. The photo had been taken years ago in Venice, after having dinner in a nice restaurant with the woman who changed his life forever.

The main door to the office swung open. It was not the chief but neither a stranger. It was Brian Aldwin, his former colleague and friend.

Bror, said David with a smile as he stood up.

Hi, bror! They hugged, patting each other on the back. It's nice to see you here! It reminds me of the old days, Brian chuckled.

I saw you were not at your desk, but I thought you were out on patrol.

And instead I was talking to the boss. He smiled. It irritates me that, thanks to this uniform, you are almost more attractive than myself.

No, bror, I'll never be better looking than you, David assured his friend.

Just what I like to hear. In any case, I am still taller than you and…. Brian's hand rested on David's shoulder and squeezed it. ...obviously hitting the gym more, too. One of these evenings we'll have a beer. What do you say?

You piece of shit, David said, giving him the finger and then laughing. Fine. I'm in, but only one.

Come on, bror. You know me. We only have one beer. Then some real drinks, of course. Brian winked. I better get going.

You have an investigation to go to?

Just more drugs.

Apart from the fact that you are now an inspector, nothing has changed.

Literally nothing. Brian grabbed his jacket from the coat hook by the door and went towards the exit. Go, bror, he said and waved to David. The chief is waiting for you.

I'll call you later, David said.

For the two of them, it never was only one beer. Usually, when they met with that assumption, they always ended up dragging each other home.

They had known each other for many years and bonded immediately, partly because they were required to support each other as partners and also because they had a similar life and career vision. The only thing that made them different was the way they relate to women. Brian liked to date as many women as he could and only recently decided he might want to settle down. David, on the other hand, always knew he wanted something more permanent.

Calvi, it's a pleasure to see you again, Chief Bally greeted him with a smile and a hug.

I think that, in seven years of service with you, this is the first time you are happy to see me, David smiled and hugged his old chief back. I thought you hated me.

I never hated you. You just earned the ranking of the most rebellious and stubborn agent who ever worked for me.

And you're the worst boss I've ever had, David said and winked.

Son of a bitch. I was going to say that you were also among the best.

And you were also the kindest boss.

The chief laughed. He was used to David's well-known sarcasm. How's your leg? You look in shape. He changed the subject.

The leg is fine. I'm not complaining.

Chief Bally's attention shifted to David's hand. Is this the photo you took in Venice? he asked.

Only then he noticed he was holding that same photo in his hand the entire time.

David took that picture out of his pocket for a reason. He wanted to do something about it before Brian interrupted. He looked at it again for a few seconds, smiled, and nodded. Then, he crumpled it up and threw it in the trash bin.

Yes, that was in Venice.

As the photo, now a ball of crinkled and faded paper, was falling, he thought back to the day it all began and how a few years could seem like a short lapse of time for anyone else but it was so much more for him.

⧗

It was a cool, breezy morning in October. David woke up not very well rested after having worked back-to-back shifts the day before. He went for a walk along the bank of the Thames to see one of his favorite spots in London: Tower Bridge.

He liked being there because he enjoyed being in this immense, open space flanked on either side by modern buildings and skyscrapers that towered overhead. Two buildings lingered higher than all the others. The Shard stood at one end of the bank with a pointed crown like the tip of a broken piece of glass. The other building, the Walkie Talkie, was rounder yet still just as magnificent. He was in an urban valley, looking up to the manmade mountains above that seemed to say, We see everything. It was so beautiful and majestic that even the locals gawked at it like tourists.

David walked on the south bank wearing headphones, listening to music. He wanted to relax and let his mind go on its own. The sound of the piano helped him a lot.

He paused his walk and stood in front of the Tower of London, leaning over the stone barrier that separated the river from the park behind him, and watched the water as it moved effortlessly below. That day, the Thames was more brown than usual and the sky above was cloudy. He watched the tiny waves crash on the muddy shore. It was peaceful and there was a constant sound of passing crowds around him. One of the things he liked most when he found himself around people was to observe them. He liked people watching. It was just a simple hobby, observing how others carried themselves and thinking what might be on their minds. He had been doing this since he was in college.

It took him a while to understand what body language meant and how it related to a person’s actions. He liked to predict what they might do next. Sometimes, he was right on the money. Others, not quite.

A girl played with her dog on the lawn, swinging her arm back and pretending to throw a ball for him. It was a little difficult to guess whether she threw it or not, for both David and the dog. But he laughed, seeing the dog take off and the girl double-up in laughter with a tennis ball in her hand. The dog seemed confused but still happy as ever. A gentleman in a suit and tie stood holding a spent cigarette between two fingers of his right hand. There were people close to him and he looked around.

Do not be an asshole, respect the environment, thought David. Easy to guess what he wanted to do. The businessman stretched out his arm and, continuing to look around, let the cigarette butt fall to the ground.

I knew it, piece of shit. Now you can go.

And the man left. David’s guesses were beginning to feel a lot like clockwork.

He was just starting to watch another person when a girl came up to him from just a few meters away. She wore a pair of tight black joggers that shamelessly seemed to complement her sculpted calves and lower back. Fitness was certainly something they shared. She wore sneakers and a sweatshirt. Her hair was blond and tied back in a loose ponytail. The light breeze tousled it gently and he smelled something sweet and floral like perfume.

To observe body language, you don't have to be too far or too close. If you were in an espionage operation, you would have to be at just the right distance to notice as much detail as possible and, of course, not be discovered.

The girl used her phone, taking photos of herself from the front-facing camera. But she seemed frustrated with how they were coming out. David stared at her for details but, this time, he couldn't concentrate. He liked that girl.

The only detail that escaped David was also probably the most important. He actually was too close to her and she noticed him persistently looking at her.

Are you having fun watching me while I take pictures? she asked, obviously bothered.

Yes, actually, David replied. Sorry, but you're funny to look at. He held back a laugh. You have been there for a while and still haven't managed to take a decent photo?

It's rude to stare at people, the girl replied, ignoring him and taking another photo. She checked it, grimaced, and deleted it. The lighting is horrible and I suppose I don’t look too hot, either. She put the phone back in her pocket.

Give it to me. I'll try, David offered, reaching out for her phone. They looked at each other.

Is this how you get a girl's number? she asked.

Oh no, when I think a girl is pretty, I usually give her my number instead of asking for it, David replied. Let's see if I can take a decent photo. They will surely be better than what you've done so far, he said.

The girl thought about it for a moment. She saw through his sarcasm at least enough to have him take her photo and grabbed the phone from her pocket then gave it to David.

You won't run away with my phone, will you? she asked before handing it over. David reassured her with a simple smile.

Come on, girl, it’s time to pose again, he said.

Okay, boy, she laughed, resting her back against the stone wall.

He asked her to change her angle a few times, smile bigger, don’t smile at all, and then smile just a little. She laughed. Between one photo and another, he checked that they were coming out well.

Now what are you doing? Are you checking the messages on my phone? she asked.

No, I'm just checking if I can make you less ugly in the photo, he replied.

If this is how you flirt, then you, boy, are an asshole, she retorted.

She seemed so stern but laughed anyway. She had a sweet face that glowed even on this cloudy day. The girl really was attractive. So, David knew his next move.

Don't laugh, he said, but she laughed anyway. I said don't laugh. She covered her mouth a little but kept laughing. Can you not follow instructions? Now she is hiding her smile! No wonder you cannot take a decent photo! This time she burst into loud laughter.

She was maybe a little embarrassed. It was as if she didn't like being photographed by someone other than herself.

Check them out and see if they're okay, David said while handing back the phone. She started to browse the photo gallery and smiled.

I like them, truly. Thank you.

They looked at each other for a few seconds.

You’re welcome. David then looked away, saying, Thanks to me, your social media profiles will become famous. He winked at her.

Maybe, yes. But, I'm sorry to disappoint you, the photos will not end up on the Internet and, even if they were, I don't think you are such a great photographer to make me famous.

Well, if you do post them and just happen to become rich and famous, let me know. I am entitled to a commission of some kind.

I thought you were a true gentleman. Instead, you took photos of me just for financial interest? I am very disappointed.

You must know that I am a gentleman, David assured her. I have not yet asked for your name or your number.

Maybe you are a gentleman. She paused. My name is Emily.

Nice to meet you, Emily. I'm David.

Nice to meet you, David.

I bet you're from around here? he asked.

It depends on what you mean. I was born and raised in London. But I live in Surrey, she said.

You are a Londoner. What are you doing downtown alone, then?

I never come here because I'm afraid to drive in traffic. But today I decided to take a nice walk since I finished work early. I planned to leave after taking some photos.

David wanted to savor her company for as long as he could. He enjoyed talking to her. It was better than just people watching. I planned to go to lunch soon. Would you like to come with me? he offered.

I'm afraid not, I'm sorry. She paused, looked him straight in the eyes and smiled. I don't have enough time for lunch right now, otherwise I would have gladly accepted. I never went out with such a good photographer.

Never in your life? he asked, sounding surprised.

Never in my life, she replied.

What makes you think that I'm a photographer?

I don't know. Maybe the photos deceived me? she laughed.

They tricked you! David echoed her laugh. So you would have accepted?

She nodded with a sweet smile still on her lips.

Well, I'll continue my walk. It was still nice to meet you, Emily, David said, hesitant to actually leave.

It was a pleasure for me, too.

David turned on his heels and began to walk away. He hoped her eyes were still on him, but he didn’t want to seem desperate by looking back.

A few steps later he realized where he was: London, a city so large and frenetic that people hardly ever meet again by chance. He knew he likely would never see her again and that thought made him sad.

I have time for a coffee if you want! Emily was still standing behind him. She hollered just loud enough for him to hear.

He stopped and turned around.

If you have time, we can go and have a coffee. I'm not in a huge hurry to go home, she continued, taking a few steps toward him as she spoke.

Sure, why not? he replied. I mean, I can’t be too hasty to say yes. Let me think about it. He folded his arms and placed a finger to his chin, looking quizzical.

Emily almost laughed but managed to restrain herself. The longer you take to think, the smaller size coffee I get, she warned.

I've thought about it enough, David said and pointed to Hay’s Galleria. I think there is a coffee shop over there.

They walked together toward the gallery in an awkward silence that lasted a few seconds too long until David finally broke the tension.

So Emily, tell me about yourself.

What do you want to know?

Anything you want. I'm interested in everything.

Okay. You already know that I was born and raised here. I work in human resources for a construction company. I am an animal lover and I have a horse.

Oh really? He was pleased to know that Emily loved animals. So do you think you could...

She interrupted him immediately.

Absolutely not. Don't ask me to teach you to ride a horse. Not that I wouldn't do it, but I'm sure you'd hurt yourself and I don’t want that liability on my hands, she said, laughing.

Oh. Thank you for your trust and believing in my abilities, he said, a little disappointed. So, you work in a human resources department? Do you plan to ask me where I see myself in ten years?

You're not a candidate for a job interview. I'll spare you that question.

They both chuckled.

They finally arrived at the gallery. David walked through there enough times that he didn’t think it was all too special. Emily seemed to like it, though. The glass ceiling had a tall arch where natural light filtered through the many panes. It illuminated Kemps’ sculpture of The Navigators, a famous fountain with moving parts and lights that resembled a ship straight out of a fairy tale.

The gallery was not so crowded and, although the day was not hot, most of the tourists were by the bridge, taking pictures. David and Emily went to the cafeteria but, being very small inside, they decided to sit at the patio tables.

David went to the counter to order and turned to ask Emily what drink she wanted. She wasn’t paying attention, though. Her eyes were on the showcase of coffee mugs and travel cups decorated with motifs of London; bridges, buildings, and flags.

She stood there for a few seconds until he could catch her attention.

Emily?

She turned quickly. I'm sorry! I was a little entranced.

David smiled at her. What would you like to drink?

I'll have a cappuccino, please.

Good afternoon, the barista at the counter greeted him. What can I get you, today?

Hi. Let's have a cappuccino and an Americano, please. David looked at Emily and winked. Large, of course.

Emily smiled.

Do you want something else?

No thanks, they both answered.

While they stood by the bar and waited for their order, David and Emily continued to chat.

I also wanted a chocolate brownie, but I didn't want to look greedy or choose something unhealthy, Emily said.

You give the impression of a girl that likes keeping fit. I wouldn't call you greedy, David commented.

Actually, yes. I exercise almost every evening, but, believe me, horse riding tightens your legs more than any other sport. Anyway, I've never been satisfied with my body. She was open enough to say it but seemed a little sad to admit it. What about you? You seem pretty fit.

I go to the gym, but lately I’ve been a little lazy. David smiled and shrugged his shoulders. Anyway, I can eat whatever I want without gaining too much, he said, looking towards the dessert counter.

She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, both disappointed and envious. You just lost ten points, she said.

There was a vibrating buzz coming from her purse. Emily took her phone out. Someone is calling me...

David managed to read a name on the phone screen without her noticing: Rory.

Was it her boyfriend?

Answer if you have to, he said. I will go get our drinks.

No, it’s not necessary. I don't really want to be on the phone, she said.

A barista from behind the coffee bar called out David’s name to pick up the order. He and Emily took their drinks to an open bistro table on the patio where they sat.

Despite the autumn breeze, the weather was warm enough that David took off his black leather jacket before taking a seat. Emily was staring at his arms.

You like vintage T-shirts? He asked her.

Hm? She caught herself staring. Oh, no. I mean...

Are you okay?

That's a big scar. What happened? She asked. If you don’t mind telling me.

It's a long story. One day I'll tell you about it. He sipped his coffee.

It was a scar on his right forearm, long and thick with stretches of scar tissue that reached out the sides. She didn’t think it looked like a simple accident.

Emily smiled, trying to hide her curiosity.

Not bad to say it's from a chain coffee shop, isn't it? David changed the subject.

Emily sipped her cappuccino. Ouch ... hot! she yelped, sticking her tongue out.

I was going to warn you, but it was too late. David covered his mouth with his hand, laughing and holding in the coffee he almost spit out from her reaction.

There's nothing to laugh about, Emily said, with her tongue still sticking out.

Blow a little, he suggested. She did. Better now?

Yup! I just won’t be able to taste dinner tonight, she complained. You still haven't told me your job.

I work in the metropolitan police. Nothing special, he said.

Are you a police officer? she asked, with excitement in her voice.

Exactly.

Do you like the idea of having a gun with you?

I am not part of the armed unit. I never cared for the idea of having a gun with me. It's a big responsibility.

Oh, okay.

Do you like asking questions? That’s annoying.

Yes, I know. I can ask many more. Everyone loves me for how annoying and talkative I am, she smiled big and confidently, amused at his sarcasm.

I'm sure it's one of the main reasons you're single, he said. He wanted to know the answer to that question more than anything else. He just wanted to see if she had a boyfriend.

I'm sorry to disappoint you. Emily paused. David looked at her for a few seconds waiting for the answer while she sipped her coffee. I'm single by choice.

Why did you keep me waiting so long? he asked, relieved.

Because you are just as annoying as I am. She understood where David wanted to go. The only man in my life is and will always be Goldie, my horse. He has been with me since I was a teenager.

Goldie. So you are not completely single. You have a very demanding, jealous, equestrian boyfriend.

Very demanding and extremely jealous. He keeps me very busy. She rested her elbows on the table and sighed. We haven't attended a competition for a long time, though. We are a little out of practice.

Let me guess. You have a showcase in your house where you keep all the trophies and medals you and Goldie won?

Nope, or at least not yet. She relaxed her back on the chair. My apartment is too small. They are all in storage.

Mine too. The apartment, that is. I’ve never ridden a horse because no one wants to teach me, he winked at her and she rolled her eyes.

Emily continued. Soon I will move to my new home. I am looking forward to it.

Will you be far from West London?

Is that where you live?

Maybe.

I am staying in the same area where I am now, Surrey, but the new house has an arena for Goldie in the backyard. Emily smiled and looked down at her coffee.

They smiled the whole time, sipping coffee. The connection David felt was instant, but strange, too. It didn’t feel normal, but it did feel nice. Natural. It was as if that moment was linked to something that he would never be able