10. Milly
Chapter 10 Milly
Milly loved being a mother but there were times when it would have been nice to know you could have a conversation without being interrupted or overheard. The night before had been a prime example. Nicole made her shock confession (Pregnant! Milly was still reeling from that unexpected news), but before Milly could delve into the details, Zoe had reappeared, homework finished and clearly keen to make up for her earlier disappearing act.
Her presence had effectively shut down the one topic Milly had wanted to talk about.
But even then the conversation hadn’t gone the way she’d anticipated because every time she mentioned Zoe’s drama group, or the play, her daughter changed the subject.
And it was worrying her.
For as long as she could remember, Zoe had wanted to be an actress. When she was little she’d dressed up and performed in front of an audience of stuffed animals. Milly had been roped in to play various parts alongside her, and when Zoe was old enough to join the local drama club, Milly had patiently provided a taxi service. When she’d been given the part of Hermia in A Midsummer Night’s Dream , they’d celebrated by going for ice cream sundaes at the café. For weeks Zoe had talked about nothing else, but suddenly she was avoiding the subject.
Milly knew something wasn’t right, but Zoe clearly wasn’t ready to talk about it.
Instead she’d asked Nicole about her life in Hollywood and what it was like to wear so many great clothes. Nicole had seemed relaxed, showing no sign of the fact that just a few moments earlier she’d announced a major life change. But she was an excellent actress, of course. She could portray one thing while feeling something entirely different. Milly, on the other hand, couldn’t act at all, and she’d sat tense and anxious, worrying about her daughter and also about her friend. Pregnant? It would change everything.
And now she understood why Nicole had used the word desperate when she’d called asking for sanctuary.
She’d never pictured Nicole in a long-term relationship or settled with children. She knew from previous conversations that it wasn’t something Nicole had pictured for herself either.
How did she feel about it? And did Justin know?
She had so many questions and so far hadn’t been able to ask any of them.
She’d hoped Zoe might decide to have an early night for once, but in the end it was Nicole who had gone to bed first, claiming exhaustion and jet lag, and she still hadn’t emerged from her room when Milly had made breakfast and driven Zoe to school.
On her way back to Forest Nest she’d called her mother to tell her that Nicole was staying and ask her if she had any idea what was wrong with Zoe, but the phone had gone to voice mail, which was puzzling because Milly couldn’t remember a time when her mother hadn’t answered her phone. She’d been Milly’s rock, and she felt a little ashamed for not making more of a fuss of how supportive and present her mother had been. She was going to remedy that next time she saw her.
Back home there was still no sign of Nicole, so Milly had left a note on the countertop.
I’ll be back at lunchtime, and we’ll talk. Call if you need me.
And then she’d gone to work, this time remembering to lock the door of the boathouse behind her.
She tried to push Nicole and Zoe out of her head as she dealt with the problems of the day. An irate guest who had tried to cancel their booking for the following week and had been outraged to discover that they would lose the money they’d paid. A woman who wanted to book two adjacent cabins for a Christmas celebration. As well as troubleshooting, she interviewed three people for two positions on the team (finding good staff was a never-ending nightmare) and had a meeting with a local outdoor-pursuits company who were interested in collaborating. Halfway through her morning Lorna burst into the room, staggering under the weight of an extravagant bouquet of flowers.
“Look! Aren’t they amazing?”
Milly was impressed. “Incredible. And it proves Duncan is capable of romantic gestures after all. Good for him.”
“They’re not from Duncan. They’re from Brendan Scott. Isn’t he a sweetie?”
Milly chose not to remind Lorna that just the day before she’d described him as a moody monster . “That’s a thoughtful gesture.”
“I can’t wait to see Duncan’s face when he sees them.”
Milly felt sorry for Duncan, who had always seemed to her to be solid and kind if maybe a little unimaginative.
Thinking of how brutal Richard had been— Life with you just isn’t that exciting, Milly —she was currently of the opinion that kindness in a man was underrated.
“The card says With apologies from a grumpy author .” Lorna’s cheeks were flushed. “I’m going to use it as a bookmark and keep it forever. I love his books.”
“You read crime?” Milly thought she knew her team pretty well, but still she was surprised. She’d had Lorna pegged as a lover of happy endings.
“Yes, and he’s the best. Keeps the reader guessing the whole time. You know sometimes books claim you’ll never see the twist coming, and then you see the twist on page two? Well, that’s not him. I don’t let myself buy one of his books until I have a full day off because I know that once I start, I won’t be able to stop. Nothing will get done. Duncan knows that once I have a new Brendan Scott, all I want from him is mugs of tea and finger food so that I don’t have to stop reading to eat.”
“What kind of finger food?”
“He makes me these little rolls of ham, and cubes of cheese. Baby tomatoes. Tiny wedges of cucumber. And he doesn’t try and engage me in conversation until the book is finished. Bliss.”
Milly tried to think of a single time Richard had done something similar for her. Not in the months before he’d walked out, certainly. Before that? She let her mind slip further back but still couldn’t think of a time when he’d done something that thoughtful. About once a month he’d bring her a cup of tea in the morning, but he always made it so milky she usually left it untouched.
Why hadn’t she told him how she liked it? Why hadn’t she said I hate my tea milky ?
He’d never made her food. If she suggested they eat out, his response was always that her food was better than anything you could order in a restaurant, and while that was flattering, it also meant that there was rarely a night when she didn’t cook.
It crossed Milly’s mind that if Lorna didn’t want to hang on to Duncan, then maybe she’d snap him up herself. “Buying flowers is easy. But delivering a plate of food you can eat without a break in your reading is a wonderful gift. It’s personal.”
“Personal?”
“It shows he knows you and wants to make you happy. That’s romantic.” She felt a pang of envy. “Lucky you.”
Lorna frowned. “A few nibbles on a plate aren’t that special.”
“They are when someone has put them together because they know it will please you. Anyway, back to Brendan Scott—” Milly changed the subject before she could feel even more morose about the state of her own love life. “Does this mean you want to go back to cleaning his cabin?”
Lorna’s face was a picture of horror. “I still find him daunting. Also knowing what goes on in his head is a bit freaky, if you know what I mean. Although I’m not suggesting writers act on the stuff they put in their books. At least I hope they don’t, or you should be taking a look under his floorboards before he checks out. Was there a funny smell in there? Any signs that something might be decomposing?”
Only the food in his fridge . “No. All occupants appeared to be alive. But can I assume from that comment that you don’t want to clean his cabin?”
Lorna flushed. “If that’s okay. I feel guilty giving you more to do.”
“I’m happy to do it.” She decided that perhaps she wouldn’t look too closely at why that might be. He definitely hadn’t been flirting with her. She was embarrassed that it had crossed her mind that he might be. “I’m glad he sent you the flowers. It was a nice touch, although he shouldn’t have glared at you in the first place.”
“He’s a creative genius.” Barely able to see past the volume of blooms, Lorna was in a forgiving mood. “I should have made allowances. Was it okay when you went yesterday?”
“Yes.” As promised, she’d returned in the afternoon when he was out and had been careful not to touch the sheets of paper that were carpeting the floor. She’d piled all the dirty mugs and plates into the dishwasher and set it to run while she’d changed sheets and towels and freshened up the rooms. A quick look inside the fridge had revealed that he clearly had no plans to cook a nutritious dinner for himself. She’d removed the single piece of ancient, dried out cheese hiding away at the back and on impulse paid a swift visit to the café. She’d picked up a light summer salad and a slice of lemon tart, which she’d left in his fridge along with a note.
At least she wouldn’t have to worry about him starving or poisoning himself.
“Anyway,” Lorna said as she adjusted her grip on the flowers, “I wanted to show you these and make sure you were fine with everything.”
“I’m fine.” She wondered what Brendan was doing right at that moment. Tapping away at his laptop? Staring across the lake waiting for inspiration? Letting another mug of coffee go cold?
Maybe she’d drop off another meal later, just in case he was hungry. This time she’d make it herself.
Lorna left the room, and Milly checked her phone. There was nothing from Nicole. Which meant what? Had she left? Was she regretting telling Milly everything?
It was funny how friendships work, Milly mused. She’d been so upset, so determined to keep Nicole at a distance, but then the moment Nicole had opened up, the resentment and hurt inside her had retreated. In the moments before Zoe had turned up, it had almost felt as if they were back in the old days, before the foundations of their friendship had been shaken.
She went back to work and was in the middle of signing off invoices when her phone rang. It was Richard.
Her heart rate increased, her body already anticipating trouble. Richard only ever called when there was a problem. He’d be canceling or postponing something, all the time delivering the message that his new life was full and busy and fun and that he didn’t really have time for her.
She considered letting it go to voice mail but then remembered that she’d vowed not to keep doing that, so she forced herself to answer.
“Hi, Richard.” She stared at the photo of Zoe that she kept on her desk. No matter what he said, she was going to be polite and civilized for Zoe’s sake. For their daughter.
“I got your message. And I have to say I did not appreciate the tone.”
“The tone?” She felt something tighten inside her, the usual warning from her body that conflict was coming and she’d better duck and take cover.
“Yes. Normally you’re a mild person. Gentle and kind. You’re accommodating.”
Mild? What sort of word was that? What sort of person did mild describe?
The sort of person who made excuses for a man who was behaving badly.
She thought back to the message she’d left. Be more Amara. “I simply pointed out that if you’re making plans with your daughter, you should stick to them. And you should.”
“Obviously I’m doing my best. I don’t need to be lectured by you.”
Her palms felt sweaty, and her pulse was sprinting so fast she wondered if a conversation with Richard might count as a workout. They told you to get your heart rate up. They weren’t specific about how you were supposed to do it.
It embarrassed and annoyed her that she had this extreme reaction to conflict.
She was no longer ten years old. This wasn’t her father shouting at her mother and then walking out. Richard had already left her. What more could he do?
She rubbed her fingers across her forehead to relieve the ache. Sadly there was plenty he could do, the worst of which would be to make things more difficult for their daughter.
What had happened to the man she’d loved for so many years? The man who had promised to love her forever. The man who had swung Zoe round in his arms when she was four years old and taught her to swim and ride a bike. Go for it. Daddy will catch you.
She felt a pang of sadness as she thought back to those happy times. Her life had felt so right. As if things had worked out exactly as they should. She hadn’t anticipated ever finding herself in this position.
“All I’m asking is that you think of Zoe’s feelings. She’s particularly vulnerable at the moment. Speaking of which, I think something is bothering her.” It was playing on her mind. “I don’t suppose you have any ideas what might be wrong?”
“She seemed fine to me.”
“She mentioned that she might give up drama. Has she said anything like that to you?”
“No, but she’s a teenager. They change their minds about things all the time. Don’t fuss.”
Was she fussing? She was never sure if she was being anxious or astute. “I just think we should make sure she has the chance to talk if she wants to. This has been a difficult time for her.”
“And you’re saying that’s my fault.”
Milly bit her lip, determined not to let things escalate. “It’s not about fault. It’s about making sure we’re putting her needs first in all this.”
“I’m doing my best. Plans change, Milly. Life happens.” He was snippy and irritable. “You have no idea how tough it is for me trying to juggle everything and keep everyone happy. It’s a nightmare, frankly.”
What exactly was he juggling? She was the one trying to keep all the balls in the air while he led the life he wanted to lead and occasionally saw his daughter when he could fit her in.
“By ‘everyone,’ I assume you mean Avery.” Was it wrong to feel a twinge of satisfaction that everything might not be as smooth as she’d assumed? Did that make her a bad person?
“It’s tough for Avery too. She has to share me with you and Zoe.”
The hand that wasn’t holding the phone curled into a fist.
“What did she expect? That’s what happens when you get involved with a married man who has a child.”
“I’ve never known you to talk like this before. What has happened to you?”
Milly stared into the distance. What had happened to her? The man she’d loved and trusted had left her, that was what had happened. And for months she’d grieved and blamed herself and wondered what she could have done differently. She’d busted a gut trying to make a bad situation as good as possible for her daughter. She’d moved out of the home she loved because that was what Richard had demanded. She’d turned up to work every day even when all she wanted to do was to curl up under the covers.
“Your comment about Avery was a little insensitive, that’s all.” She fixed her gaze on the photo of Zoe and kept her tone soft. “We’re all doing our best in difficult circumstances.”
“I’m just trying to be happy. To live a happy life. It’s not a crime, Milly. Not that I expect you to understand that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Forget it.”
The window of her office overlooked one of the forest paths, and she watched as a family of three made their way along the trail, loaded up for the day with backpacks and a huge picnic bag. The man carried the little girl on his shoulders, and Milly felt an ache of envy and sadness. Seeing a happy family enjoying their time together made her realize what a mess her own was.
“I don’t want to forget it.” So much for trying not to escalate things. “What is it that I don’t understand, Richard?”
“You don’t understand about enjoying life. Your whole focus is on duty and responsibility. All you think about is boring chores. Doctor’s appointments, and parent–teacher meetings and acting as a taxi service for Zoe. You’ve turned your life into a never-ending to-do list.”
“Because these things have to be done!” The injustice of it was like a knife to the heart. Something hot started to simmer inside her. “Doctor’s appointments, parent–teacher meetings—they all have to be done, and someone has to do them. And that someone is never you, so it has to be me.”
“I know you like to think you’re doing it all, but I helped out plenty of times.”
“Helped out?” The slow simmer became a dangerous boil of anger. “The responsibilities of life and parenthood are not mine for you to ‘help’ with. They’re ours, to be shared equally. It’s called being an adult, Richard. If I spent too much time doing ‘boring chores,’ then it’s because you weren’t doing your share.”
If she didn’t calm down she’d have a heart attack, and she could not leave Zoe in the care of this overgrown child. Zoe’s teeth would fall out, she’d have no clean clothes, and she’d never make it to school on time. Also, she’d give up drama, and Richard wouldn’t even think to ask her why.
“It’s not my fault that you’ve forgotten how to enjoy yourself. I should probably call you Martyr Milly.”
His words were so wounding, so deeply unfair, that for a moment Milly was robbed of breath.
“This conversation started because I was asking you to stick to the plans you make with Zoe. Or is she one of your ‘chores’ too? I’d hate to think that seeing your daughter deprives you of your precious fun.”
She was glad she was alone in the office. There was no chance of Zoe overhearing.
What had happened to him? Since when had he been this selfish?
“I’m going to ignore that because it seems you’re determined to be difficult. And as for Zoe, I can’t pick her up from drama this weekend because it’s Avery’s mother’s birthday, and we’re taking her for a champagne afternoon tea at a manor house near here, but she can come and stay with us next weekend. I’ll pick her up Friday after school and drop her back Sunday night.”
“And Avery is okay with that?” She was going to stay calm. She was going to overlook the fact that Avery’s mother’s birthday was taking precedence over his commitment to his daughter. “It isn’t going to get canceled?”
“Avery suggested it. She put it in the calendar.”
And Milly was expected to flex because that was what she did. And if she didn’t do it, Zoe suffered and Milly was labeled difficult .
Milly felt the familiar pain deep inside her. The truth was she hated the weekends that Zoe stayed with Richard. She usually worked because that was a better alternative to mooching around aimlessly, trying not to wonder if Zoe was going to end up liking Avery more than her own mother. Was she more fun? Did Zoe think her mother was boring?
She dragged her mind back to the present.
“I’ll let Zoe know. But don’t forget her drama club. She can’t miss it because it’s not long until the performance.”
“You just said she’s thinking of giving it up.”
His comment reawakened her anxiety.
“Even if that’s true, she can’t give it up at the moment. She has made a commitment. It’s not fair on everyone else for her to drop out at this late stage.”
“Lighten up, Milly. If you want to make her carry on going to drama, that’s up to you, but she’s going to have to miss next week either way. If I bring her back for drama, I’ll be spending the whole day in traffic. Zoe will be fine. Avery has a friend who works at the theater in the city, and she’s got us front-row seats for A Midsummer Night’s Dream on Saturday night. Zoe is going to love it.”
Zoe would love it. Milly had tried to get tickets herself, even though going there would be a massive trek, but it had been sold out.
But Avery had contacts.
The wave of insecurity almost knocked her off her feet.
She tried to ignore it. In the end all she wanted was for Zoe to be happy, and this was going to make her happy.
“That’s kind and thoughtful of Avery.”
“She’s a kind and thoughtful person.”
The implication was that Milly was anything but kind and thoughtful.
She opened her mouth to say that Avery hadn’t exactly been kind and thoughtful when she’d taken a hatchet to Milly’s marriage but managed to stop herself.
She ended the call, so upset that she didn’t know what to do with all the emotion swirling inside her. She picked up her half-empty mug, tempted to throw it hard at the wall, but then she put it down again. If she did that she’d have to clear up the mess. Another job.
Martyr Milly.
For the first time in eighteen months she felt relieved she was no longer married to him.