Chapter 14
14
Once she realised that I’d got over the initial shock, Mum said that she was going and that she’d be back the following day after she’d given me some time to think. She kissed my head as she left. ‘Sleep tight, darling. I love you.’
* * *
I sat for ages just staring into space, completely bowled over by the fact that I now had a name. I rolled it around my tongue. Theo. Knight. It was a good strong name, and I wondered what a name said about a person. Once I started to come to my senses, I grabbed my phone from my handbag and started to look online for my father.
However, Theo Knight was nowhere to be found. I tried to cyber stalk him by looking for him on Google, Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. But I kept drawing a blank. In hindsight, if he was older than Mum by five years, and Mum was sixty this year, that would make him sixty-four or sixty-five, so maybe that made it less likely that he would be on social media? I thought there was a chance that I might track him down but even before I’d really started I’d hit a dead end. What now?
I thought Beth might have some suggestions when I’d pop in to see her tomorrow. I could get her on the case while she was resting. It would give her something to do.
My sleep was fitful that night; I was tossing and turning with my mind whirling in all directions, but in the middle of the night everything always seemed a million times worse, and the harder I tried to go back to sleep, the less able I became. As the sun rose across the orchard, I trudged downstairs in my ’jamas and slippers and made some coffee. I desperately needed a caffeine boost to start the day. As I boiled the kettle, I remembered that Mum was coming over mid-morning to go shopping and it gave me the kick up the bum I needed to drag myself out of this daze.
* * *
Around 9a.m. the post thudded onto the front door mat and made me jump from my daydream. Looking at my watch, I realised it had been a while since I’d moved from my book and it was about time I got myself another drink to liven me up. I was waking up early these days and really enjoying having a coffee and reading to start the day. I flicked the switch to reboil the kettle and picked up the post which had been directed from the apartment, rifling through to see if anything looked interesting. One A4 manila envelope had the Ronington’s franking stamp and I opened it to find some final paperwork from the HR department. My heart thudded as I recognised the sweeping handwriting on one of the other envelopes that was also included. Propping that particular bit of post next to the kettle, with my hands shaking, I made a drink but was definitely really out of sorts because of it. I sat back down on the sofa and tried to ignore it, but it was staring at me, calling me to open it.
How could something like this have got me so worked up? It was no good; I decided I may as well get it over and done with, like ripping off a sticking plaster. I stomped over to the envelope, counted to five and opened it. A sheet of A4 paper dropped from my shaking hands onto the floor.
Maddy, it’s been a while. How are you?
Cheeky bastard. ‘It’s been a while!’ It had only ‘been a while’ because the last time I saw him, he was literally in the middle of shagging one of his clients, and that was on top of the fact that I’d been devastated about what had recently happened too. My blood was beginning to boil.
Over the last couple of years I’ve spent time with other people, but none of them are like you. They don’t make me laugh like you do, they don’t turn me on like you do, and they don’t work as hard as you do. They’re just not you. I miss you, Maddy.
I know about the redundancy and it doesn’t matter to me. What I want, Maddy, is for you and me to be together again. I want us to work together again and be a couple again. A team. You and me against the world, just like we used to be.
I’d love to chat to you, to see if you’ll forgive me and take me back. I need you and would love to hold you in my arms again. Please get in touch and say we can try again. I have always and will always love you, Jx
OMG! What the hell was this? It was so totally and utterly out of the blue, I literally did not know what to make of it. This was what I’d longed for so many times after we split up. I wanted him to apologise and tell me it meant nothing to him. To beg me to reconsider and take him back. That I was all he ever wanted and needed and that he’d been stupid and given in to ridiculous primal urges. If he’d done that, I’m sure we could have got through his dalliance if that were the only issue.
It had taken me a long time to get rid of the image of his arse pumping up and down while Alisa smirked at me over his shoulder as I stood in stunned silence. It took far too long for him to even realise that I was there and jump up and have the decency to cover himself up, whilst at the same time exposing Alisa to the elements so that she flashed her snatch right at me! Bloody hell, there are some things you really just can’t unsee!
I couldn’t believe he’d done that to me and especially not then. I thought that my heart would literally never recover from such a betrayal. I wondered if it was my fault. Whether it was because of what had happened…
Three weeks beforehand, I’d found out I was pregnant. I was on the pill, but it must have happened when I’d had a bad stomach after a dodgy curry so the pill wasn’t effective. I’d realised recently that my period was late, which was very unusual for me, and I’d worried about it for days until I decided one day, without saying anything to anyone, that I should probably do a test. I knew there was a pretty remote chance that I was pregnant but thought that perhaps stressing about it was making it worse, so I decided it was time to find out once and for all and put my mind at rest.
With shaking hands, I picked up the test after the required two minutes and read the word pregnant ! I was shocked. I had no idea what to do. Should I tell Jamie yet? I felt I needed a bit of time to get my own head around it before I told him. For two days, I’d worked late, gone in early and tried to avoid him as much as possible. I made a doctor’s appointment and it was confirmed that I was definitely pregnant. Over that time it had started to sink in. I was going to be a mum. At first, it was scary. I worried about whether I could be a good enough mum, like my wonderful mum. I’d never really thought about being a parent. Jamie and I had never really talked about it, even though we’d been together for years. I didn’t think he particularly liked children, to be honest. He was always commenting about people he worked with putting their kids before work and he couldn’t understand it. But once it had started to sink in, I began to think about a future as a family. Jamie, our baby and me. And I liked what the future had in store for us. We’d already committed to living together and being together forever; we often talked about growing old together. This way there’d just be more of us in our family unit. The more I thought about it, the more excited I became. I pictured walking down the street pushing a pram, with our baby inside it. Once I’d got used to it, I loved the idea and I wanted to share it with Jamie, sure that he’d feel the same way.
I realised that I was just prolonging something that I really needed to tell him, so I made him his favourite meal of steak and chips, opened a good bottle of red and plucked up the courage to say that I couldn’t drink when he went to pour a glass for me.
‘Are you having to take antibiotics for something, babe?’
‘No Jamie, I’m… I’m…’ I struggled to put the sentence together.
‘Spit it out, babe. The football is on in a bit.’
‘I’m pregnant!’ I blurted.
Jamie laughed.
‘Nice one! But you can’t fool me!’ But when I didn’t smile, his grin dropped and he became deadly serious.
‘Tell me you’re joking,’ he whispered.
‘I’m not joking, Jamie. I’m pregnant.’ I was so relieved the words were out. It was amazing how just one short sentence was so life changing.
He stood and paced the room, holding his head. I stood up and tried to comfort him, but he gently pushed me away.
‘But you’re on the pill,’ he said.
I explained that it must have happened when I was ill.
‘This is just the worst news ever!’
That sentence hit me like a ton of bricks. He slammed out of the flat. I sat up until 2a.m. waiting for him to come back but by then I was shattered and fell into bed, exhaustion taking over my body. He still hadn’t returned by the time I had to go to work the next day.
Worried sick, I sent a text first thing which he replied to later that morning to say that he was staying with a friend for a few days and that he’d be in touch soon.
For the next few days, my emotions were on a rollercoaster, one minute seeing us playing happy families together once Jamie had got round to the idea of it, and then seeing me on my own with our baby. But in every picture, I was a mum. And I was a great mum and I loved my baby totally and unconditionally. Well, I’d had a wonderful teacher.
Being pregnant in those early days was exhausting, morning sickness lasting nearly all day and totally wearing me out, so I took as many opportunities as I could to nap. I was told that at ten weeks pregnant, it hopefully shouldn’t last too much longer, maybe a couple more weeks, all being well.
One morning, I woke to griping pains low down in my belly and I knew immediately that something was not right. As I looked down, the pure white Egyptian cotton sheets were a contrast to the red pool that was forming between my legs. I dragged myself to the toilet and wiped myself as much as I could. As I did this, I knew that there was something terribly wrong and I rang an ambulance. Once admitted to A nothing. And not one bit of sympathy for what had happened over the last few days. All those words that could have possibly repaired the damage to our lives, yet he couldn’t find a single one.
Giddywell would always be my home and Mum welcomed me with open arms when she saw me standing on her doorstep with tears streaming down my face. She knew what it took for me to trust someone in my life and how devastated I was. I knew that I would never be the same again and the impact of first the miscarriage and then his infidelity would affect me forever. I went through a stage of not wanting to leave the house, didn’t want to bump into people. I just wanted my mum to look after me. She seemed to know how I felt.
A quick text from me to Jamie telling him to pack his things and leave was the only contact we’d had. And I hadn’t heard a word since. Until this.
Part of me wanted to meet him because I was intrigued and wondered why the hell he was getting in touch now. Part of me wanted to go to just punch him in the face then leave. But that wouldn’t be very dignified of me, even though it would be quite satisfying. And the other part of me wanted to screw the note up into a little ball and throw it onto an open fire and pretend I’d never seen it. I hadn’t a clue what to do. I needed to talk to Beth and see what she said, although I could probably imagine. I knew it was early, but when I looked out of my window, her bedroom curtains were open so I knew she was awake and I grabbed my fleece off the back of a dining room chair, popped my shoes on and headed over to the farmhouse.
As I walked into the kitchen, my shoes click-clacked across the old stone floor. This house was amazing, so cosy and simply furnished in a mishmash of styles, which all perfectly blended with the décor. It had beautiful cast iron open fireplaces in every room, which in winter were all lit permanently, making it a place you never wanted to leave. There wasn’t a soul around and I breathed in the familiarity of this big old beautiful house. The long, wood-panelled hallway led to the most stunning sweeping staircase that I had always loved and a curved polished wooden banister that we all used to slide down as kids and come to a flying stop just before we hit the huge sideboard at the bottom. I used to imagine myself gracefully gliding down the stairs, channelling my inner Scarlet O’Hara, in a stunning ball gown and elbow-length white silk gloves, ready to meet my beau (Alex, it was always Alex in my dreams) who would be anticipating my arrival at the foot of the stairs, dressed in a frockcoat, tails and boots, to whisk me away in his arms, to dance elegantly in the ballroom, unable to tear his eyes away from me.
Pushing these silly teenage fairy tale notions away, I went straight up to Beth’s room, knocked and entered to find her propped up in bed, reading. I threw the letter at her, and she frowned as she read it. ‘What the fucking fuck?’
‘I know! That was exactly my reaction too.’
‘Well, please tell me that there’s not even one tiny bit of you that wants to actually go.’ She passed me the letter back.
‘I’m not sure.’
‘ Not sure? You are kidding, right?’
‘Well, I thought perhaps I’d just go and see what he’s got to say. There’s just a little bit of me that’s curious about why he’s getting in touch now.’
‘Clearly, he’s after something. Where’s he been for the last three years? Shagging his way round Europe by the look of his Facebook page, which I’ve always got my eye on.’
‘OK, so you don’t think I should go then?’ I smiled at her.
‘No, I bloody well don’t. I don’t even want to discuss it any more. He cheated on you at a time when he should have been supporting you. He left you broken and devastated. How can you even think of it? I’ll not speak about it again, Maddy. That’s the end of the conversation. OK?’
‘Oh, OK, you’d better tell me how you are then.’
Beth talked to me for the next ten minutes, but to tell the truth, I had absolutely no idea what she said. I was finding it difficult to process anything she was saying. I was just thinking about the fact that despite Beth’s good intentions and advice, the half of me that was telling me to get dressed up, show him what he was missing and see what it was all about was overtaking the half of me that thought I shouldn’t go.
* * *
Excusing myself by saying I had the beginnings of a headache, I went back over to the barn and put the TV on to fill the time before Mum arrived. There was a cooking programme on, and I was watching it but not taking any of it in. My mind was all over the place, dredging up memories both good and bad about how Jamie had changed my life for what I thought was the better, then stolen it all away.
But he was also the man who I had given everything to and had loved with all my heart. The man I’d met at a cocktail party I’d gone along to on behalf of Ronington’s. The man who had seen me standing alone and come over to talk to me, saying that I looked beautiful but alone. The man who worked for a rival PR company and knew all about me and my work life. He’d obviously done his research. The man who had then wooed me for weeks, gently edging his way into my life, making himself so indispensable that in the end I couldn’t bear to live without him. The man who knew I had relationship issues and one Christmas gave me a box with a key to his house and a toothbrush to leave there. The man who eventually asked me to move in, saying surely that was proof of his commitment to me. The man who, if he got home from work first, and I’d had a long and stressful day, would run me a bath, light candles and welcome me at the front door with a rum and Coke and let me luxuriate in a long soak while he cooked dinner.
He was the man I had given my whole heart to. I loved our life and it was no hardship to me to put everything on hold and devote my whole life to him, to the detriment of my friends and Mum, I realised later, although I didn’t see it at the time. I loved him so intensely and really thought that he was the love of my life and the centre of my world.
We had an amazing life together. With two fantastic salaries coming in, we had the best of everything. We went on the most exotic holidays; the two weeks we spent in the Maldives were the best of my life, just him and me in a stunning water bungalow, overlooking the sparkling turquoise sea, with tropical fish swimming around our ankles as we dangled our feet over the decking. I felt so incredibly loved at that time, walking around the island, holding hands and drinking cocktails, gazing at the most glorious sunsets from the Sundowner bar.
Just a normal weekend for us was filled with shopping and hospitality. We’d walk into the local town and share a bottle of wine, chatting about everything and nothing. We had designer everything. For me, it was handbags and sunglasses. For him, it was suits and ties. Sometimes he was just a little flash and cocky though. I remembered the day that he bought his Tag Heuer watch and flashed it around in the pub. When the bar guy admired it, he said that he had paid more for his watch than the bar guy would earn in a month and laughed. I laughed along with him but then afterwards realised that what he’d said was cruel and crass. Money was no object to either of us, but it wasn’t until afterwards that I realised these were just things.
When I didn’t have Jamie any more, my Dolce and Gabbana handbag didn’t seem to hold the same appeal. In fact, it was my birthday the week before I found him with Alisa and he bought me a star, which was the most romantic thing that he had ever done. I was so touched to read the dedication on the certificate, which said ‘ This star will last as long as my love for you.’ Just the week then, tosser!
What I remembered vividly now was how my whole world came crashing down around me just a week later. Just thinking about it reminded me of how it made me feel at the time, and made my heart thump a million beats per minute. I would never have said I was an anxious person, but this was the start of a very long period of not being able to cope with anything at all. A couple of months off work, with Mum looking after me, really helped, but I knew that I would never be the same again. I was totally gutted. I clearly didn’t mean as much to him as he did to me or he would never have betrayed me in this way. And I hadn’t heard a word from him till now. So why would he get in touch suddenly?
There was a little voice on one shoulder saying, ‘Don’t you bloody dare go and see that scumbag,’ and the other voice, which needed closure, which was yelling way, way louder: ‘Go on, go and meet him and see what he has to say.’