She bought herself an ice-cream after she’d brushed the sand from the beach off her feet and slipped her sandals back on. It felt wild to do whatever she liked, whenever she wanted.
Back at the bed and breakfast she logged on to her emails but Perry hadn’t written. Of course he wouldn’t be able to call, not unless he tried doing so from an unknown number, and she wasn’t sure what was worse: an angry response demanding she come home or this, silence. This way she was waiting for him to make a move, and it wasn’t a nice feeling. Or perhaps that was all part of the master plan he’d hatched the second he knew she’d gone.
Had she underestimated him? Had she made a mistake?
She felt a flutter of panic. What if he called the police? What if he reported her missing? What if she caused a whole lot of trouble and wasted valuable resources?
Oh my God, was what she was doing totally selfish?
Had she been so wrapped up in herself that she hadn’t thought this through?
In a brief moment of guilt, she sent Perry an email to say that she’d left the marriage and that she would be in touch when she was ready. It was a short paragraph but the thought of the authorities trying to locate her was enough to drive her to send it. She gave him no hint as to her whereabouts.
She read more of her emails – Sebastian had sent through a whole lot of photographs and she clicked on those – he really did look professional, happy alongside the group he’d been teaching that day, their final day. Every single person in the photograph was smiling. Why had Perry never put happiness before career achievements for either of his sons? The Perry she’d met in the pub that first night might have done. The Perry with the young son and wife in the poky little flat, struggling to make ends meet, had seen the simplicity at the end of the day coming home to a little boy he could bounce on his knee and make laugh, to a wife who wanted his affections and who laughed with him. Somehow he’d got so successful that that had been all he could see. He was just like his father. How had Perry’s mother lived that way for so many years? Had she felt trapped? Hadsheever wanted to leave? Or was she happy with life the way it was? Maybe some women were.
She replied to Sebastian to thank him for the pictures. She wrote a sentence to say that things had changed somewhat at home, that they should talk soon. But then she deleted it. She wasn’t ready to say anything and when she did, it would be on a face-to-face call. It was the right thing to do.
She thought about Faye. It was exciting to know that she was in England too, in the same county in fact. And she was a friend. She could reach out to her, have someone in her corner.
Except she wouldn’t do it just yet. She wanted to eventually, but she needed to work things through in her own head before she talked to anyone else.
She began searching online at the wider parts of Dorset and the Jurassic Coast – Mupe Bay, Fossil Forest, Lulworth Cove, the Lulworth Estate, Driftwick Bay. She wondered whether Faye had been to the bay yet, whether she knew anything else about Howard. She sent a brief email to find out if Faye might have any news.
She was surprised to get such a quick response and even more shocked at what Faye had to tell her.
Driftwick Bay Books was closed? Permanently?
She bashed out another email to ask whether Faye knew why, whether it was because Howard had given in to the pressure to sell up, but Faye quickly replied that she had no idea. And by the time their email exchange finished with Faye having to dash to accompany her uncle to the hospital for a checkup, Margot was even more concerned about Howard.
She suddenly felt compelled to help in some way. She was hiding in Bournemouth, but what if she went to Driftwick Bay herself? It was the least she could do to find out whether Howard was all right, whether she might be able to do something to help. She’d dealt with Perry her whole life, after all, and some of his less than pleasant business associates or clients. She might not have had the confidence to stand up to her husband, but this was different. Perry had manipulated her and got into her head before she knew what was even happening in her marriage, but maybe she could have a quiet word with this developer and ask them to please back off.
There were very few accommodation options in or near Driftwick Bay given it was summer, but one place was available and caught her eye. It was a very cute one-bedroom cottage half a mile on from Driftwick Bay. She thought it a bit cheeky to claim it was still within Driftwick Bay because she wasn’t sure that was strictly true according to the map, but it wasn’t overly expensive – probably because it was one bedroom. The listing gave approximate walking distances to local amenities, which while being a distance some would moan about, she was quite happy with and already wanted to embrace the exercise.
She didn’t hesitate for long. She could almost imagine some other online booker swooping in and booking it while she was dilly-dallying.
She booked a four-week period, which gave her a generous discount and quickly took out her credit card to secure the booking.
An uncomfortable feeling spread through her chest, however, right after she typed in the credit card number. Of course she couldn’t use it. Perry was the primary account holder; if she used the card, he would check the statement and might somehow be able to work out where she was. She couldn’t risk it.
From the back of her purse behind a photo of the boys she took out another card. This one was linked to the account Perry didn’t know about. She hesitated for another moment, thinking of all she needed to do with the little money she had – she needed to live somewhere, she had to eat, pay bills and fund day-to-day living.
The enormity of it hit her all over again as she entered the alternative card number.
Margot stayed one more night at the bed and breakfast, getting a refund for the nights she hadn’t used, which was kind of the owners, and the next day she packed her things and travelled by train to Wool, where she got in a taxi to go the rest of the way to Driftwick Bay.
She smiled to herself. She was going to meet Howard in real life. Howard, her kind friend with a heart of gold, Howard who might well be having his own tough time right now.
10
FAYE
Faye had stayed with her dad and Uncle Frank for a few days but today she let herself in to the static caravan at the site in West Lulworth. Her uncle had owned this caravan for a long time. It had been his and Clare’s escape to the seaside or as close to it as they could get. He didn’t come down here much now but had handed Faye the keys and told her it would be nice to know it was being used.
She opened a couple of windows in the lounge, which flowed into the kitchen area. Doors opened on to a balcony if the weather was nice and at the other end of the caravan were three bedrooms, one ensuite, and a slightly bigger bathroom. It was compact but to have the space to herself was bliss.
She took out the groceries she’d picked up on the way here, then unpacked her things in the main bedroom, and by the time she came through to the lounge again the warm breeze of early September had done its job and freshened things up.
It was such a lovely day with no sign of rain, and it wasn’t long before Faye headed out to explore on foot. It was a twenty-minute walk down to Lulworth Cove from her caravan and the sea seemed to draw her there faster. The air was so fresh, but that might have a lot to do with the fact that since she’d arrived – apart from that first day with the whistle-stop tour to Driftwick Bay, hoping to meet Howard – she’d stuck to walking around the village with her dad. This was her first time clapping eyes on the ocean properly.
