Beth
Beth
As the train rushes away from Woking, the tears come again. For some reason, she can’t stop thinking of that day with Vaughan. The day after Nick’s wedding. Probably the only real fight they had ever had.
He had seen right through her. All along. And he’d loved her just the same.
They’d woken up in the Cotswolds hotel, but in truth she had barely slept. Vaughan had ordered room service: strong, fresh coffee and croissants that were the perfect combination of fluffy and crispy, and all the while she had been quiet. Unable to get herself out of the mood she was in.
Thinking of what Maggie had said. About Nick cheating on her.
Thinking of what Rosa had said to Vaughan. About Nick being a player.
‘Why don’t you want to marry me?’
That’s what she asked Vaughan when he came out of the ensuite shower room, rubbing his hair with a towel.
That was the product of her thoughts. A sudden, burning desire to understand why he had never wanted to walk down the aisle with her. To make her his Mrs.
‘What?’
He laughed, wondering if it was a joke.
‘It’s a simple question. How come you’ve never proposed? We’ve been together for years.’
Vaughan frowned, putting the towel down over the back of a chair.
‘It’s not really a simple answer.’
‘Well, give me the complicated answer then.’
He glanced at the ceiling, took a deep breath.
‘I don’t know baby,’ he said, eventually. ‘I guess because I’ve been married before. I didn’t see much point.’
But she could tell that wasn’t the truth. She thought of his ex, Sophie. Their relationship was cordial, for the sake of their daughter Edie.
It was an excuse.
‘No,’ she said, insistent. ‘It’s more than that. Tell me the real reason.’
He stared at her, a puzzled look on his face.
‘I don’t know what to say. It’s not more than that. I promise you.’
She sat up straighter in the bed, pushed aside the breakfast tray. There were croissant crumbs all over the bedspread.
‘Tell me the truth!’
‘What’s got into you?’ He laughed, but out of confusion. He was uncomfortable, because he knew that she knew the answer.
‘I know you’re not telling me the whole story. I just want you to be straight with me.’
‘I don’t know,’ he said, eventually. ‘I guess I didn’t think you wanted to get married.’
‘Why? Why didn’t you think I wanted to get married?’
He looked away. She felt a fleeting sense of guilt for cornering him like this, but there was a rage inside her, a determination to get to the bottom of it, even though ‘it’ had never really occurred to her before.
‘Because…’ He paused, looked her straight in the eye.
‘Because what?’ she said, angrily.
He looked at her sadly.
‘Because I… I guess I have a feeling I will always be your second choice.’
It felt as though she had been punched in the guts. Her anger dissipated in an instant.
‘What?!’
‘We really don’t have to talk about this,’ he said, standing up again and pulling a t-shirt out of his suitcase.
‘Yes we do! How can you say something like that? I love you!’
‘I know you do,’ he said, turning away from her, pulling the t-shirt over his head. ‘And I love you too.’
‘Am I your second choice?’ she shouted, even though in her heart she knew it was nonsense. ‘Is that what you’re trying to say?’
He closed his eyes, pausing with his hand on the suitcase. His damp hair was plastered to the back of his neck.
‘No,’ he said, and she could tell by his tone that he was cross now. ‘No, of course not.’
‘Well what are you talking about then?’ she said, even though, of course, she knew what he was talking about. Of course she did. This was Vaughan and he was so much wiser and more mature than she was, and he was so Buddhist about everything and always understood the need to live in the present, to be grateful for today and that you can’t change people and all kinds of calm and considered things he always told her when she was feeling upset.
‘I didn’t want to tie you down,’ he said. There was an edge to his voice now. A warning for her to drop it, but she couldn’t – this was a scab that needed picking, so that everyone could understand what was underneath it. So that they could both learn to live with it.
‘Why not?’
‘For God’s sake, Beth,’ he said, raising his voice for the first time in as long as she had known him. ‘Because of Nick. OK? Don’t you think it’s a coincidence that we’ve just come from his wedding and now you’re sitting here asking me why I’ve never asked you to marry me? Don’t you think I’ve noticed that you still have feelings for him? You might deny it, but they’re there. Do you think I’m so blinded with my own arrogance that I don’t see you, for who you really are, and what you really feel?’
She sat back as though he’d slapped her, a hand rising instinctively to cover her mouth.
And then, he stormed out of the hotel room, his hair still dripping down the back of his t-shirt.
When he came back an hour later, his hair was dry and she was still sitting in the bed, surrounded by damp tissues.
‘Where did you go?’ she said, sniffing.
‘I just walked around the grounds. Tried to avoid the other guests. Some of them are truly awful.’
She smiled.
‘I’m sorry for shouting at you,’ he said, taking her hand.
‘It’s OK. I just… I don’t understand how you can say that. About me and Nick. We’re just friends.’
He looked her in the eye then nodded, opening his mouth. But he didn’t say anything. He held back the words for both their sakes. Because no good would come of insisting that she was wrong.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, again. ‘Weddings bring out the worst in me. Memories… the sense of failing Edie. I will marry you, if that’s what you want. Of course I will.’
But what kind of proposal was that? She let the subject drop.
Neither of them ever mentioned marriage again.
*
And now she’s here, all these years later, on a fast train back to Waterloo, and nothing has changed. Her head and her heart have always disagreed. But her head keeps her safe. Her heart leaves her broken in pieces, like the way she felt when Nick left after the fire. The way she felt last year when he admitted he still blamed her for not letting him go back into the building.
She can never go back to that.
And yet…
What if your fears and dreams existed in the same place?
That stupid poster.
Is that what made him finally make a move?
It can’t be that simple though, can it? He was simply too afraid? It can’t be that awful . All that waste, those years of stupidity, Nick running away and leaving her, Nick marrying the wrong woman, ending up in a career that nearly destroyed him.
It can’t all be just because he was frightened.
She wonders what advice Vaughan would give if he was here now. Why he even stayed with her if he knew that her heart really belonged to Nick. She wishes she could ask him.
Why hadn’t she asked him?
Because Vaughan always told the truth. And because she was scared he’d say ‘because he’ll never want to be with you’.
But today, in his bedroom, something changed. For the first time since the night of the fire, Nick let his guard down.
He showed her his mother’s house. Finally, he tried to let her in.
And what did she do? She screamed at him. She let out all the bitterness inside her.
If only he’d told her about his mother’s hoarding before. It would have helped colour in the picture she had of him; the picture that had always been slightly incomplete.
It made so much more sense now, him leaving after university. He must have been so worried about his mother. A fire at that house would be a certain death trap.
She thinks about what he said about not being able to fix his mother’s problem by simply throwing all her stuff away. He must feel so guilty that he can’t help her. And it’s always been just the two of them. He must feel such a burden of responsibility for looking after her, and keeping her safe. She can’t imagine it.
And he still carries an horrific combination of guilt and shame about what happened to Anna. Because of them , let’s face it. The guilt that he had left her in the building and gone out with Beth.
The guilt that he hadn’t gone back in to try to save her.
And perhaps, also, the guilt that he had left Beth to cope alone afterwards, and run away.
And that’s reason enough to know that their relationship could never work.
She sits back slightly in the train seat. Feeling reassured. Her brain has done that thing – looped around the same familiar circuits – and come back to the place that feels familiar. And safe.
It isn’t meant to be. Romeo & Juliet ended up dead. There’s a lesson there.
She closes her eyes, overcome with tiredness, and leans her head against the window of the train.
And as she drifts off, she tries not to think of the devastated look on Nick’s face, as he waved her off in the car park outside the station.