AllFreeNovel
Share Us
This morning, I’m greeted by their two innocent faces and after throwing them a bigger than usual armful of hay, I leave them to it. Back inside, I make myself a coffee. Living here, I’m surrounded by glorious countryside walks, but this morning, there’s somewhere else I want to be.
Getting into my car, I drive along the quiet lanes towards Arundel. After last night’s snow, the temperature is rapidly rising, the countryside awash with melted slush. Turning onto the main road towards the town, I take in the castle standing proud above the rest of the buildings. Arundel’s where Lisa and I met, in one of the pubs, through a mutual friend. Ever since, it’s been a town that echoes with nostalgia.
Parking at the top of the High Street, it’s still early as I walk down the hill. Maybe it’s the greyness of the morning, but the streets seem oddly still, growing quieter as I head away from the shops and turn onto the road that leads towards the lake.
Breathing in the damp air, I gaze at the familiar landscape. This morning, it’s monochrome, everywhere I look cast in shades of grey, from the historic castle walls to the stark branches of winter trees.
Reaching the lake, I stop. On our second date, Lisa and I hired one of the rowing boats that are moored here. I can still remember her laughter, the light in her eyes, the feeling I’dfound someone special, that it was the same for her – until two years later, I found out how wrong I was.
This morning, the lake is crystal clear, a throng of hungry birds floating on the surface. I watch a duck squawk, adding its voice to those of the multitude of waterfowl, before flapping its wings and rising from the water.
It’s a whole little waterworld of its own out here, one I’m sharing this morning with only one or two dog-walkers. As I follow the path around the lake, then up the slope towards the folly, my mind fills with thoughts of Lisa. But this time, they’re not such good ones. The night she’d told me she’d met someone else; the way she picked up the first of her suitcases that were packed and waiting at the foot of the stairs. All I could do was stand there as she took it outside and came back for the next. There was no way I was going to help her move out of the home we shared.
Even now, I can remember every detail of that night – the way her fair hair had caught the light as it swung over one of her shoulders, the dress she was wearing that showed off her curves. That moment my eyes had turned to the gold chain around her neck that she’d bought herself recently, as suddenly I’d felt suspicious in a way I never had before. But that’s what betrayal does to you.
It had felt like a punch in the gut as I’d suddenly realised it wasn’t Lisa who’d bought the necklace. When I’d challenged her, her cheeks flushed as she avoided my gaze, before telling me it didn’t matter. After the time we’d spent together, her coldness had been incredible. Her cheeks pink; she’d avoided my gaze. But by that point, my feelings had been the least of her concerns. As was the fact that she’d clearly been sleeping with both of us. The first time I’d noticed the necklace actually became a night of unbridled passion – albeit the last between us.
The last time she came back in, it was as though it was all my fault. There was no apology, no remorse as she’d stood in the doorway. Instead, she was just cold, in the way she spoke, in her words.I’ll keep my key until I’ve moved the rest of my stuff out. I’ll email you.
Mortally wounded, I told her I’d leave the rest of her stuff in the garage. Then I asked her to leave.
Since that night, a year has passed. A year without her sense of fun, her laughter; a year in which a light seems to have gone out. This morning, at the top of the hill, I take a deep breath as I head for the bench where Lisa and I used to sit.
Settling on one end, I look towards the folly. Standing proud on the hilltop, today its grey stone is austere against the lightening sky. It’s an odd building when you stop and properly look at it, marked by the passing of time, bearing relics of a past you can only imagine.
Beyond, the softly undulating hills that stretch for miles are broken here and there by swathes of woodland. It’s beautiful, timeless, yet without Lisa to share it with, it fills me with sadness. But there’s no getting away from it. Sometimes, life is sad.
A yawn comes from the other end of the bench. ‘Chilly, isn’t it?’
I look around, startled to see a girl in faded jeans and muddy walking boots. Perched on the other end, she has a beanie hat pulled down over her dark hair.
I meet her eyes briefly. ‘You could say.’
‘Shame it’s stopped snowing,’ she says brightly.
‘You think?’ I fold my arms.
‘I love the snow.’ Her voice is wistful. ‘It’s why I came up here – only I’ve frigging missed it. I just love how for as long as it’s there, the whole world looks like a fairy-tale – until it melts andyou realise that underneath, nothing’s changed.’ She pauses. ‘Is that why you came up here?’
‘Not exactly.’ I shrug. ‘I just woke up early.’ I’m hardly going to tell a stranger that I’ve come here to wallow in the past. But come to think of it, I don’t need to tell her anything.
She pulls her jacket more tightly around herself. ‘I guess it is quite early.’
‘You live here?’ I venture.
‘For now,’ the girl says. ‘I’m helping out a friend – though hopefully not for much longer. There has to be a better way to spend my days than dealing with up-themselves clients and arsehole lawyers. At work,’ she goes on. ‘And for the record, none of it my fault. To top it all, yesterday I followed it up with this really bad date. I should have cancelled – but I didn’t. Seriously, I don’t know what I was thinking.’
Raising an eyebrow, I try not to smile. ‘I guess it just goes like that sometimes, doesn’t it. Bad dates, though…’ I say wryly. ‘Complete waste of time, aren’t they?’
‘Exactly,’ she says emphatically. ‘I’m starting to think I’m a terrible judge of character.’
‘Ah,’ I say with a grimace. ‘You can’t be worse than me.’
‘Oh, I really could be.’ Her words are heartfelt as, shaking her head, she looks at me. ‘Why am I telling you this?’
I look at her, bemused. ‘You haven’t told me much.’
She stares at me. ‘OK. So I used to live in Spain until I left my ex. I wasn’t planning on staying here long, but I’ve no idea what comes next. Plus I’ve just blabbed about the last week of my life. Well, some of it.’
