All the memories I had of her, like building this camp, those were part of a life that hadn’t featured marriage or children of her own. The kind of life I’d been going around thinking about as if it was the worst thing that could happen to me. I was ashamed of myself then, looking at her curlicue writing. Her life wasn’t the lesser of two options. It wasn’t the absence of a man like Richard that had made it. She had built it for herself, like this place. Intentionally and proudly. Because it was what she wanted.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said aloud, to the dripping rain and creaking timbers. ‘I’ve been acting like a total melon, haven’t I?’
I could practically hear her laugh, and I already knew what she’d say.
Just a little.What are you doing out here in the rain? Come inside and get warmed up – tell me all about it and we’ll see what we can do.
‘What if there’s nothing to be done right this minute?’ I asked the air.
Well, then we’ll have a hot chocolate and not worry too much until tomorrow. And then we’ll see about getting things all straightened out, mmm? You’re a smart girl, you already know deep down what you need to do.
She was there with me. Not because I was in the camp or because I was near her house, but because I’d shut out all the clutter and buzz that made it hard to hear her soothing voice. Aunt Lou was right, there was nothing I could do today. Richard wouldn’t be back until so late that I’d already be asleep, and I wouldn’t be back at work until tomorrow. I could take my business and my relationship by the horns tomorrow.
I knew what I wanted and it wasn’t Richard. If the options were Richard or being alone – I’d gladly take the latter. Of that I was completely certain.
Chapter 30
It was a goodplan in theory but, as it turned out, it lacked a little in the execution. For starters, it was quite hard to break up with your boyfriend when he was never bloody around.
Not only was Richard not in the flat when I went to sleep, he was not there when I woke up. He’d been there – the blender was full of protein-shake sludge and the shoes he’d worn yesterday were in the middle of the floor, a wet towel left in the bathroom. But Richard had come and gone, presumably to work, though I wasn’t prepared to bet on it any more.
So the break-up would have to wait. I didn’t want to do it over the phone. It had to be in person or he’d only want to meet up and talk it over. Try to ‘manage’ me as if I was a potential buyer that had just discovered a rat in the master bedroom of one of his properties. I sent him a text saying we should have dinner together tonight and then got ready for work.
While I tried to repair the damage the rain had done to my hair yesterday, I thought about Cooper. I didn’t want to think about him, but there he was. Clearly, he didn’t want to talk to me and whatever had brought him back to Leaford after his short absence wasn’t related to me at all. He’d probably been laying a false trail for whatever creditors or scary characters were trying to find him. It wasn’t my problem. He’d made that very clear.
I left the flat and walked to the shop, blushing furiously when I saw Margaret putting a bin full of DVDs out on the pavement. She was wearing her usual scowl and a rollneck jumper over stirrup trousers that she had to have bought in the nineties. No one sold them any more, surely? As she turned, she spotted me and I tried to arrange my face into an expression that said, ‘I have no idea of your history with my father and no wish to find out.’ I hurried past her and she shunted the DVDs into place with an irritable shove, before disappearing into the mothball-scented embrace of the charity shop.
Emma was never going to believe me when I told her about Margaret. I barely believed it and I’d heard it from my dad’s own mouth. Much as I wished I hadn’t.
When I arrived at the shop, Emma was already waiting outside, playing a game on her phone. She had an umbrella with her today and had brought in the tubs of leftover brunch for us to polish off before work. She brightened when she saw me and put away her phone.
‘Sooo, how did things go yesterday with your dad?’ she asked as soon as I was within talking distance.
‘Unbelievably,’ I said, unlocking the door. ‘As in, if I hadn’t heard it myself, I would not believe it.’
Inside, while the microwave whirred away to make our breakfast, I filled Emma in on the sordid details. The advocaat, the peonies and Margaret.
‘Ugh, you could have waited until after I’d eaten – my GOD!’ Emma pulled a face. ‘I can’t believe it – your dad and… I don’t know what to do with this information.’
‘Repress it?’ I suggested, piling a paper plate with food and handing it over to her. Despite her protestations, Emma dug in immediately. ‘That’s what I’m planning to do.’
‘Aside from the trauma of that mental image… did you get anything out of talking it through with him?’ she asked.
‘A bit,’ I hedged. ‘I mean, he said he gave Mum space and then, when she was ready to give him a chance, he promised her he’d do better. He didn’t drink again at all until they got engaged. That was over a year later.’
‘Wow, sounds like he was really serious about making things right with her… and not repeating the same mistakes,’ Emma said.
I heard the pointedness in her tone, as much as she tried to hide it. She was right, more than she knew. Richard was already backsliding into his old habits – lying and going off to the golf club without any hint as to when he was coming back.
‘I mean,’ Emma continued, ‘it makes it clear that he made a mistake – being so drunk that he’d sleep with Margaret of all people. Instead of just… choosing to cheat.’
‘Yes, I get it, thank you,’ I said without much heat.
Emma winced. ‘Sorry. I know it’s your decision…’
‘And I’ve decided to break up with Richard… again,’ I said.
Emma threw her hands up, sending a piece of waffle flying through the bead curtain. ‘YES! Thank God, I am so proud of you!’ She hugged me and I couldn’t help laughing.
