Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
I keep replaying that moment when I got out of the car at Hazelwell and saw them in each other’s arms through the window.
I’m mad at myself, but I’m also now a little mad at him.
How strong could this relationship ever have been if he could go from my arms to another woman’s in the space of a day?
No matter how much of a bitch I’d been, that seems too rapid to be respectful.
Maybe I didn’t actually mean anything to him at all.
Maybe once he’d slept with me, the fun of the chase fizzled out.
Maybe he actually only said all that love stuff because he knew it would freak me out, knew that it would scare me off. Maybe it was all part of the plan.
Do I really think that? I ask myself, as I finish off my work for the day.
Do I really think he could be that conniving, that cruel?
I’d like to hope not, but as I’ve proved time and time again, I have terrible judgement when it comes to men.
Moving forward, my plan is A) not to have anything to do with men, or failing that, B) let somebody more intelligent, like the Scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz , make all my decisions for me.
I sigh and close down my laptop. The urge to Google him has become almost irresistible recently. I have no idea why, and I’m fighting it. The best thing for me to do is keep busy, just like the internet told me to.
Work has been one way to occupy my mind.
I’ve also started to decorate my bedroom.
Despite my mood being black, I’ve gone for a very pale green, and I plan to add lavender gloss on the woodwork.
For the last two nights, I’ve been up until the early hours either writing or painting.
I’m very, very tired, but only by being physically exhausted do I stand a chance at getting any sleep.
If I don’t wear myself out to the point of collapse, I just lie awake, torturing myself about everything.
My mind is like a whirling dervish, torturing me with images of Aidan, with ghosts of what might have been.
I know Cherie has been worried about me, and yesterday she called in to drop off supplies.
All the café essentials– cake, sandwiches, freshly squeezed juice, and of course hugs.
I didn’t tell her the dirty and humiliating truth of what happened, just that things haven’t worked out.
Icould tell she wanted more, not out of nosiness– or at least not just nosiness– but out of concern.
I suspect she thinks I might creep back into my shell again, and she might be right.
I hope not, but I have my doubts about my faith in humanity these days.
I’ve just put on my painting clothes– old jogging bottoms and a baggy sweatshirt– when I hear a knock at the front door. I give some serious thought to ignoring it, but all my lights are on and my car is outside. It’s like I have a giant sign on the front door saying: ‘Sarah’s home!’
I head down the stairs, attempting to tame the tangled mess that’s my hair by running my hands through it.
As I do, my fingers get stuck in a tangle.
My personal grooming has taken a swan dive over the last few days.
I had a shower this morning, but then obviously forgot to connect brush to hair at any stage.
I suck in a deep breath before I open the door, ready to at least fake being okay.
All that changes when I see who it is. Damn, I really should have invested in that peephole.
I’ve felt much more secure since I confronted Scott Jones.
But there are other kinds of threat– like finding a certain friend-with-benefits standing on your step.
Melody smiles at me, her eyes flickering over my appearance and faltering slightly.
What the hell is she doing here? I know I have absolutely no right to feel any resentment towards this woman– this girl, actually, because she is still in her twenties and definitely young enough to be my daughter– and yet I kind of do.
I kind of want to punch her on the nose, in fact.
I won’t, because I’m a civilised human, but I really want to.
Once that initial rush of anger passes, I’m still left with questions. And sadness. A huge, great big smothering blanket of sadness. I’m such an idiot.
‘Hi Melody,’ I say, crossing my arms in front of me. This is my territory and I don’t like her being in it. ‘What do you want?’
She looks slightly taken aback by my less-than-welcoming attitude but recovers quickly.
Melody, I remind myself, once backpacked around India on her own.
She’s not going to be intimidated by a paint-spattered middle-aged woman who looks like she’s been dragged through a bush backwards, forwards and sideways.
‘Hi Sarah, I was wondering if you could help me? Help Aidan? He was supposed to be back by now, but his flight’s been delayed, and I really have to get on the road. I don’t want to leave the dogs alone, and I know they’ll be fine with you…’
‘His flight?’ I repeat dumbly, having no clue what she’s going on about.
‘Yes. You know, from New York?’
I stare at her, feeling deeply confused. ‘You’d better come in.’
She follows me through, taking in the pretty living room and its organised clutter, heading over to the shelf that contains copies of all my books.
She runs her fingers over them, and smiles as she says: ‘I didn’t want to come across as a fan girl that night in the pub, but I love your books! Carina Shaw kicks ass!’
‘Um… thank you. She does, doesn’t she? Could I get you a drink, or cake? I have a lot of cake…’
‘No, I’m fine, thanks. Anyway. I think he’s on the plane now, or somewhere he can’t see his messages at least. I have no clue when he’ll be back, but like I said, I need to be going. I should have left hours ago. Would you be able to pop over? I’ve got the keys with me?’
I sit down on the sofa with a bit of a thud, and look up at her. I have nothing to gain by pretending to be anything other than what I am. Bewildered.
‘Melody, I’m really sorry, but I don’t know what’s going on. I thought you were here staying with Aidan for… uh… well, you know…’
She frowns and sits in the chair opposite me, her eyes huge in surprise. ‘Gosh, no! Absolutely not! Not since he met you, Sarah, you’re all he’s been focused on. I’m here for the dogs. To look after them while he was in New York with his dad.’
‘With his dad?’ I echo, shaking my head. Melody bites her lip and looks at me thoughtfully.
‘Okay, I don’t know what’s going on here, Sarah. I thought you two were together. Or at the very least close. I didn’t get much of a chance to talk to him before he left. What’s the score?’
‘We were close. And we were together. And then we had a big fight, and I left, and then you turned up with your benefits…’
She throws her hands up in the air and laughs.
‘Now I’m even more lost! I turned up because he asked me to.
His dad had a heart attack and he had to fly to New York to see him.
The only benefit I brought was looking after the dogs.
He’s not the kind of man who enjoys benefits with another woman when he’s into someone, and I’m not the kind of woman who sleeps with a man who is taken. ’
I nod, struggling to process all of this, feeling slightly reprimanded.
I remember his phone ringing several times that morning while we were fighting.
And I know he tried to call me, also several times.
Okay, the only message he left was one tense-sounding ‘please call me back’, which didn’t tempt me, but now I know he was probably upset.
He has a difficult relationship with his dad, but he is still his dad.
And I hadn’t exactly been open and loving towards him.
I feel a rush of regret, and a dreadful sinking feeling in my stomach.
I wasn’t there for him when he needed me, and I jumped to all the wrong conclusions because of my own stupid insecurities.
I didn’t give him the benefit of the doubt, not even a tiny bit– he paid the price because the other men in my life acted like jerks. Basically, I’ve been a terrible fool.
‘How is his father?’ I ask quietly.
‘He’s all right. It was only mild, more of a warning shot apparently, but his dad was desperate to see him. I think it was a bit of a wake-up call, and hopefully they might have sorted out some of their issues. Like I say, he’s on his way back. I assumed he’d been in touch, that you knew…’
I didn’t know. I didn’t call him back. I didn’t tell him that I love him, when perhaps he most needed to hear it.
I saw this perfectly nice woman giving him a consoling hug, and I leapt into the abyss of doubt.
It’s understandable that I was upset, but unforgivable that I never questioned what my anxious, battered brain told me.
If I’d called him back, then maybe he would have asked me to look after the dogs and Melody wouldn’t even have been here. I’ve made such a mess of things.
I shake my head and feel tears swim in my eyes. Melody is instantly by my side, holding my hand. I now feel even worse for all the mean things I’ve thought about her over the last few days.
‘Come on, it’s okay. It’ll be all right! He’s really, really into you!’
That sounds so like something one of my nieces would say that it makes me smile. ‘Maybe he was …’
‘He still is. Have a little faith. One row won’t change all that.
It was hectic, getting that call about his father, booking a flight, having to get to London.
Then dealing with his family and that whole drama.
I have no idea how that all went, but it can’t have been easy.
But he’s on his way back, and you can see him soon and sort this all out. ’
She wipes the tears from my cheeks with gentle thumbs, and I tremble a little with emotion. ‘You’re so nice, Melody.’
‘Why thank you, Sarah. Are you okay? Can I get you anything? Call a friend for you?’
I realise as she asks that yes, for possibly the first time in my life there are friends she could call for me. That I do not need to be alone with pain– hoard it, like Sally said. Cherie would come, or Laura, or Max, or any of the other lovely ladies.
That is a wonderful and comforting thought, but I only really want to see one person. I only need to see one person. And he’s possibly somewhere over the Atlantic.
‘I’m all right, or at least I will be. I’m sorry. This all just caught me a bit unawares. And yes, I can go around there. I can look after the dogs.’
She’s been nothing but considerate, but I see a flash of relief on her pretty face. ‘That’s great. I was so worried about leaving them. They’ve had their dinner, so don’t let Juno trick you into giving them more, okay?’
I laugh– Juno does do that– and walk with Melody to the front door. She pauses on the threshold and gives me a hug. I’m now, it seems, a person who happily hugs.
‘It’ll all be okay,’ she says confidently before she gets into her now more bearably cute VW Bug.