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‘It has,’ Paul says. ‘It’s brilliant.’ Then he looks guilty about effusing too much about his new life. ‘I should never have done what I did to you. It was wrong of me. Stupid. Things between us, they weren’t that bad.’
‘No, but we were never absolutely crazy for each other either,’ I point out. ‘Seems as if it was for the best.’
‘Yeah,’ he agrees reluctantly. ‘Trudi’s a great girl. You’d like her.’ I see the love in his eyes for her and I know that I never saw them shine like that for me. ‘So? What about you?’
‘I’m a different woman now.’ I’m not, I think. I’m exactly the bloody same and that pains me to admit to myself. This announcement – his marriage, his child – has hurt me more now than when we actually split up. It’s as if it’s suddenly flagging up all that I haven’t achieved.
‘Africa’s meant to be wonderful.’
‘Yes, so I’ve heard.’
‘None of that for us for a long time.’ He looks as if he really doesn’t mind that. Family holidays in Cornwall or Wales in a caravan for the next ten years will suit Paul down to the ground. He adopts a casual air. ‘Are you with anyone?’
‘I’m seeing someone,’ I tell him. ‘Lewis. He’s called Lewis.’ I don’t tell Paul that I’m only seeing him in my nightmares. ‘It’s early days, but he’s a really great bloke.’ I should have sliced out my own tongue rather than say that.
‘That’s good.’ My ex looks relieved.
I glance at my watch. ‘I’m going to have to get back.’
Paul touches my arm. There’s a tenderness in it that we never had in our relationship and I wonder if this new woman has made him a softer and more caring person. Or perhaps it’s because he’s about to become a daddy. I look at him sadly. Will he turn out to be The One That Got Away? Should I have loved him more? Could I have loved him more? What if we’d been more romantic, more loving? Can you force that into a relationship? Doesn’t that sort of thing occur naturally if you both feel it? What if there’s no one else in my life that matches up to Paul? The small taste I’ve had of what else is on the market doesn’t leave me with much hope.
‘You know if you ever need anything, Janie, you only have to ask me.’
‘I’m fine,’ I assure him. ‘Honestly.’
‘If you’re sure?’
‘You’ll have to let me know when the baby’s born.’
‘We’re expecting a little girl. Next March.’ Again, the glow of pride.
Perhaps if we’d had children together, Paul and I, things might have turned out differently. ‘That’s wonderful.’
He pecks me on the cheek. ‘Have a great time.’
‘Yes.’
‘In Africa.’
‘Africa?’ Then I remember. ‘Oh, yes. Africa.’
‘I’ll see you around, Janie.’
‘Yes. Lovely. Give my love to . . .’ But Paul is already out of earshot.
I scuttle back to the salon and lock myself in the loo and cry.
Chapter Eighteen
When I get home that night, I lock the front door and pull the curtains shut before I do anything else. Well, after I fuss over the cat, of course. Otherwise blood would have been spilled.
I’m exhausted and not just because I’ve been on my feet all day. Emotionally, I feel drained too. Seeing Paul was a shock and, whether I like it or not, the news of his impending marriage and fatherhood has left me feeling empty and lonely. The whole world is moving on while I stand still. I think part of the trouble with being alone is that every problem is magnified, simply because you have no one else to share it with. Every decision has to be your own. Usually, I cope quite well. Today, it’s worn me down.
‘What shall we have for dinner?’ I say to Archie and even that makes me choke up again. Talking to my bloody cat – I’m going madder and becoming sadder quicker than I’d hoped.
Archibald head butts the cupboard where his food is kept. I wonder if it’s tedious living on dried biscuits and whether that’s why he still harbours a yearning for mouse entrails and bird’s heads.
His look says, ‘Get a move on, bitch.’
When I’ve fed the cat, I opt for a frozen lasagne and open a bottle of red to go with it. While it’s cooking, I polish off a glass. Drinking alone is a bad thing too and it’s something that I don’t usually do during the week. I normally try to last out until the weekend, but over the last few weeks my willpower has been slipping and I’ve been having a few glasses even on school nights. Sometimes it’s the only thing that hits the spot.
