Clarissa’s Story

Clarissa worked as a field writer for a magazine and her editor told her she needed to go to Britain to write a story about the reconstruction of an old burnt-down church. She was excited about the opportunity, but also nervous as this was her first big story in a foreign country. She booked herself the earliest flight that night.

She had a week to prepare, write questions for the interviewee, and research online about the church and the cause of the fire, in addition to packing for the trip.

After an over six-hour trip from New York to London, she landed. She was exhausted from the trip and took an Uber to her hotel.

The next morning, she woke up and showered. She took a taxi to the church.

Upon arrival, she noticed the stakes in the ground and the police tape circling the building or what remained of the building.

A young man with a British accent shouted at the construction team, “No keep that — -and obviously keep that!”

“Excuse me, sir,” Clarissa shouted.

“Yes, what do you want?! — -Oh, and what’s your name?” the young man asked as he changed his tone of voice.

“I’m Clarissa, I’m here to interview you about the church,” Clarissa replied.

“Oh, right, your editor called. Well, I’m a little busy right now. Can we set up an appointment to talk later?” the young man asked.

“Sure, when are you available today — -” Clarissa asked, waiting for him to say his name.

“Henry, Henry Thompson,” he replied.

“Well, Henry, how about three o’clock at the cafe downtown?” she asked.

“Which cafe downtown?” he asked back.

“Um — -how about the one on Oxford Street?” she queried.

“It’s a date,” Henry smiled.

“It’s not a date, it’s an interview,” Clarissa shouted.

“See you there,” Henry said.

Clarissa went back to her hotel and asked the concierge some nearby attractions she could visit before her meeting. The concierge gave Clarissa a few brochures.

She visited a few old catholic churches and steeples. She even had time to visit the London Eye and Big Ben. But when three o’clock hit, she hopped in a taxi and told the taxi driver to step on it as she was running late.

When she arrived, she opened the door and found Henry sitting at a nearby table sipping his tea. She sat down and said, “Sorry I’m late, lots of sights to see in London. I got a little distracted.”

Henry looked at his watch, “Three fifteen, you’re a little late.”

“Sorry to keep you waiting, do you want to start?” Clarissa asked.

“I guess,” Henry replied.

“First question, when was the church built?” Clarissa asked.

“Eighteen forty-three,” Henry answered.

“And do you know who owns the church?” she asked.

“My father used to, but I inherited it from him after he died in the fire,” he replied in sorrow.

“I’m sorry for your loss, do you know how the fire happened?” Clarissa asked as she finished writing on her notepad.

“It happened a few weeks ago, I arrived yesterday, since I live in America. My mother, a minister at the church told me over the phone — -” he explained until Clarissa interrupted him.

“Wait, if you’re from the US, then why do you have a British accent?” she asked.

“I moved to America a few months ago for work,” he replied.

“That’s why you have a twang of American in your accent and use American phrases,” Clarissa realized.

“Yes, anyway, my mother told me, my father was in his office when he lit a cigarette with a lighter — ” he continued until Clarissa interrupted him again.

“Wait, I thought smoking was illegal in public places including churches in the UK?” she questioned.

“My father was known to break the rules in his church, he’s a bishop,” Henry added.

“Oh?” Clarissa asked in confusion.

“Anyway, stop interrupting me, my father accidentally dropped the ignited lighter and the place went up in flames. My mother said he tried to escape, but he tripped, and his COPD exacerbated and he couldn’t breathe. He passed out and died,” Henry finished.

“Wow, was your mother in his office when all this transpired?” Clarissa asked.

“No, she was in her office. She knows my father smoked in his office every day around the time it happened and she assumed he dropped his lighter,” Henry replied.

“Did you call the police to investigate if that is the cause of the fire?” Clarissa asked.

“No, because I trust my mother’s word,” Henry said as he raised his tone of voice.

Clarissa wrote down and underlined “Talk to his mother.”

“I think I struck a nerve, I’ll call you if I have any more questions,” she said and walked out.

But how am I going to get in contact with his mother? How can I get his mother’s number? she thought.

She rented a car and drove back to the church.

At the church, the construction workers were on lunch, so Clarissa sneaked under the police tape. She searched the remains of the church.

She found what looked to be Henry’s father’s office and she walked in. She discovered an old Rolodex laying on the floor, most of the index cards were burnt up. She picked it up with gloves on and flipped through it and she found Henry’s mother’s work and cell number. She ripped it out and ran out of the remains of the building.

She drove back to her hotel and called Henry’s mother once she got into her hotel room.

“Hello, is this Emily Thompson?” asked Clarissa.

“Yes, may I ask who is calling?” Emily asked back.

“You don’t know me, but I know your son, kinda, I’m Clarissa. I’m a field writer and I’m doing a story on the burnt down church,” Clarissa replied.

“Alright, you have five minutes, I’m very busy,” Emily says.

“I understand and thank you. Can you tell me where you were before and during the fire?” Clarissa asked.

“Well, I was in my office and I saw smoke coming through the cracks of the door. I ran out of the church and looked for my husband, but the smoke was too thick to see him. So, I got myself out of there,” Emily explained.

“Do you know how the fire started?” Clarissa asked.

“I suspected my husband dropped his lighter,” Emily replied.

“And lastly, why don’t you own the church now instead of your son?” Clarissa questioned.

“I don’t know, I am his wife, but now that I think about it, he did always want Henry to follow in his footsteps and run the church,” Emily replied.

“That’s all, bye Ms. Thompson,” Clarissa said before Ms. Thompson hung up.

Later, Clarissa called Henry and set up another meeting in the same cafe.

In the cafe, Clarissa sat down before Henry got there and she wrote down some more questions for him. Henry arrived.

“So, we meet again, Ms. Clarissa,” Henry said suavely.

“Yes, let’s continue, how will you be able to afford to rebuild the church?” Clarissa asked.

“Well, the congregation donated and I got an inheritance from my father so that should help,” Henry replied.

“Next question, why do own the church and not your mother?” Clarissa asked.

“My father always wanted me to take over the church when he died or retired. I was thinking of handing the deed over to my mother and let her take it over after it was rebuilt. I have to get back to my job in the states,” Henry explained.

“Oh, have you told your mother about this?” Clarissa queried.

“No, I want it to be a surprise. Now I’ve got a question for you, why are you really here?” Henry said quirkily.

“Honestly, this is my first big news story in another country that could jumpstart my career,” Clarissa responded.

“Why are you really here?” Henry repeated.

“I told you to — ” Clarissa said before Henry rudely interrupted her.

“Is it to find a guy like me?” Henry said egotistically, but cutely.

“Uh — no, I’m here for the story,” Clarissa said in confusion.

“Really? I’ve got another question for you, will you go out with me? We can talk more about the story or about each other,” Henry suggested.

“No, I can’t I’ve got to write this story,” Clarissa replied.

“How about this weekend?” Henry asked.

“No, I’m going back to the US on Sunday,” Clarissa responded.

“How about Saturday?” Henry asked back.

“No, I’m traveling to Paris that day before I leave,” Clarissa retorted.

“What if I come with you? It is the most romantic city on earth, the city of love,” Henry romanticized.

“Fine, you can come,” Clarissa gave in.

She finished the last sip of her chai latte and left.

A few days later, the police ran through the police tape with the church still in shambles. They told the construction crew to stop working since they needed to investigate the cause of the fire. They searched every room and gathered a few burnt items for evidence. The floor manager called Henry and he rushed over.

“Alright, what’s going on? I own this church,” Henry said angrily as he scurried over the fallen police tape. He rushed to the officer who looked in charge.

“Excuse me, officer, what is the meaning of this? I own this church,” Henry said.

“We were authorized to investigate this church,” Officer Braydon said.

“By whom? We already know the cause of the fire, it was a lighter,” Henry said.

“By the chief. Really? Smoking is illegal in public places,” the officer replied.

“Well, lad, we found this,” Officer Kent said.

“What is it?” Henry asked.

“A glass candle holder, we found dozens of them in the congregation hall. We suspect they were the cause of the fire,” Officer Kent replied.

“And how do you know they were the cause?” Henry questioned.

“The window was open, so it must have let in a gust of wind and knocked over one or more of the candles. Whoever was in charge of these candles should be reprimanded,” Officer Kent replied.

“It was one of our pastors, I’ll let them know,” Henry said.

Henry walked out of the crime scene and drove back to his hotel.

A few days later, Clarissa met Henry at the train station, it would be a two-hour trip. They sat across from each other in the train car.

“So, did you find out any new information about the fire?” Clarissa asked.

“Yes, apparently, the actual cause was lit candles falling over,” Henry replied.

“Oh, I’ll have to add that to the story before I send it out,” Clarissa said as she wrote that down in her notes.

“So, you’re leaving tomorrow. Where do you live?” Henry asked.

“New York City,” Clarissa responded.

“I live in Buffalo, I’m an engineer,” Henry said after he sipped his tea.

“Cool,” Clarissa said uninterested while she looked out the window.

“How long did you live in Buffalo?” Clarissa asked, continuing the conversation as she was bored and had nothing else to do.

“Only a few months, I lived in new york city with a friend for a few weeks until I found a place in Buffalo. I originally went to NYU,” Henry explained.

“You went to NYU, I went to NYU. What year did you graduate?” Clarissa asked in excitement.

“I graduated in twenty-eighteen,” Henry smiled.

“I graduated in twenty-nineteen. We must’ve been there at the same time and didn’t even know,” Clarissa said.

“Well, the school has classes all over the south side of Manhattan,” Henry reminded her.

“I probably didn’t see you because I was in writing classes,” Clarissa remembered.

“New York is a big city and I took engineering classes,” Henry said.

“Did you live in a dorm?” Clarissa asked.

“Yes, I did until I graduated. Did you?” Henry asked back.

“No, I lived with my mom uptown,” Clarissa replied.

Clarissa took a nap on the comfy leather seat and used her coat as a jacket until their stop.

And when the train said to exit the train, they were in Paris in a few different languages, Henry woke Clarissa up. They walked off the train and took a taxi to the Eiffel Tower. They took an elevator to the top and got out. Clarissa leaned over, looked down, and quickly looked back up since she remembered she was afraid of heights.

“Isn’t this romantic? Just the two of us at the top of Paris,” Henry said.

“I guess,” Clarissa unimpressed.

“What’s wrong? We’re in the most romantic city in the world,” Henry said as he threw up his arms in confusion.

“Nothing, I just pictured I’d be up here with someone else,” Clarissa said, feeling uneasy. She ran to the elevator.

Henry followed and once he got out of the elevator at the bottom, he saw Clarissa get into a taxi. He knew exactly where she was going, so he called a taxi and got in.

He saw her at the ticket booth when he arrived. But once he got over there was a line and he saw Clarissa run inside the train. He waited in line and got a ticket for the soonest train back to London.

Once he got back to London, he called Clarissa and she didn’t answer. He left her a voicemail,

“Clarissa, I’m sorry for upsetting you. I’m not the man you wanted me to be, but we’re all we got.

You don’t have to settle, you can choose anyone. But didn’t we meet for a reason? I’m sorry we couldn’t create better memories.”

Before bed, Clarissa listened to that message since she pushed off listening to it. She knew it would be sappy and heartful. After she listened to it, a tear fell down her face.

Clarissa visited the church the next morning before her flight back to NYC. The reconstruction started a few days ago, so Henry had to stay and watch to make sure they didn’t use the wrong paint or wood.

“Henry!” Clarissa shouted over all the construction noise.

“Clarissa, what are you doing here?!” Henry shouted back.

“I came to say goodbye before my flight,” Clarissa shouted.

They crossed the street to get away from the noise.

“I got your voicemail and I’m sorry I ran off,” Clarissa said.

“No, I’m sorry for making you run off. Maybe I could visit you in New York City after all this construction,” Henry suggested.

“We should just stay friends,” Clarissa turned him down

“Friends who visit each other?” Henry asked.

“Friend who speak to each other occasionally,” Clarissa replied.

“Aw,” Henry said with a frown.

Months later, Henry was at a conference with his co-workers in New York City. He was outside the convention center and he saw Clarissa walk back by.

Clarissa made eye contact and she ran away.

Henry couldn’t run after her since he had to stay with co-workers and attend the next meeting.

Henry gave the deed of the church to his mother.

Clarissa got her big story published in the magazine and even got an award for it.