Chapter Fourteen
It was dark outside by the time Matt and Dennis returned home that day, held up by queues in waiting rooms and then the terrible driving conditions on country roads. They were both exhausted, the pub should’ve been open already, and Matt was worried that his texts to Robyn had received no reply.
“No point opening in this weather, son, any right minded person will be holed up in the warm. Good job the knitters cancelled the function room this afternoon what with Robyn being under the weather.” Matt hadn’t told the older man about the situation he’d found Robyn in when they briefly returned that morning, only that she was unwell.
“You go lie down, Dad, have a bath or something, and then I’ll heat up some soup for us all,” Matt made sure the front door was locked and bolted before following Dennis up the stairs, desperate now to see his girl.
“Ruby? Rubes?” He whispered, pushing open the door to the bedroom which was shrouded in darkness, ignoring the dripping of his own coat which he hadn’t yet taken off.
“Matty?”
He rushed to the bedside, keen to see for himself that she was okay. Her face was flushed, her eyes bleary from sleep, but Robyn was still where he’d left her, all his fears had come to naught.
Relieved, Matt shrugged out of his winter coat and scarf, lying down on top of the duvet on his side to be closest to her.
“How are you feeling, love?” He whispered, stroking her hair back off her face and tentatively feeling the heat of her brow with the back of his hand, “When did you last have any painkillers?”
“Er… this morning, I think,” Robyn’s voice was barely a whisper as she snuggled close to him, the blankets preventing them from getting as near as they wished.
Matt immediately stood again to get the paracetamol that he knew she kept in her backpack, bringing it over and holding the glass of water to her lips, “You haven’t drunk any of this since I left, take a big drink now,” he urged, holding the back of her head gently with one hand and the glass with the other.
Robyn shrugged off the covers, “So hot,” she croaked.
“Come here,” Matt urged her to snuggle close to him, her head on his chest, “I’ve been so worried about you.”
“How’s Dennis?”
“Not the news we’d hoped, but we can talk about that later, do you think you’ve got the energy to tell me about what happened earlier?”
He could tell she really didn’t, but he stroked her back and held her close until at length Robyn told him about the band she’d met with the other Oakettes and how she’d sent a text last night asking them to do a couple of sets at the Christmas party.
“Surely that doesn’t explain why he thought he could come barrelling over here and making advances on you though?” Matt knew something didn’t add up.
Robyn sighed and pulled away from him, far enough so that she could look him directly in the face, as she briefly and in a bored monotone which he could barely hear, explained the offer to go on tour which she’d previously rejected. Then, exhausted, she lay her head back down on the pillow and asked if she could have some space to rest again. Just like that. No further explanation. No acknowledgement that she’d turned down what could’ve been a great move for her career – knowing what they did now, she’d obviously had a lucky escape from that letch, but still.
Matt felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach. How many more offers had she refused and then kept secret from him? Where would her career be now if he hadn’t held her back?
“Ruby can we talk about this? I mean, I’d like to kno…”
“Matt please, it’s done. Nothing bad happened. I feel ill, can I just have some peace?”
He left the room quickly, his disappearance the only acknowledgement of her request, the guilt lodged painfully in his chest.
They sipped their soup in silence, Matt sitting awkwardly at the foot of the bed, until Robyn couldn’t bear it any longer.
“Look Matt, it’s really not a big deal. Touring with a group of blokes I don’t know, leaving Oakley and sleeping on a coach, really didn’t appeal. What happened with Adam proves I was right, there’s simply no more to it. I don’t understand why you’ve got your knickers in a twist.”
“Well, how about because you’ve surely missed other opportunities too, because I selfishly wanted you here. I should’ve cut you free years ago. Maybe our feelings now are just the result of… of co-dependence.”
“What? How could you say that? Is that what you really think?”
“I don’t know, maybe. Certainly, I’ve held you back for long enough.”
“For goodness sakes, Matt, don’t be so ridiculous. It drives me mad the way you act as if I’ve no say in this. It’s all about me achieving success, having a singing career, but without me being allowed to make any decisions for myself, right? What are you? My unpaid manager or something? Unhired too!” The outburst cost her more pain in her throat, but Robyn didn’t care. This needed to be said if they had any hope of a future together. “Have you even considered what I might want? Clearly not, as you’ve not bothered to ask. Just making assumptions based on your own sense of failure. Just because you dropped out of uni doesn’t mean you have to project your feelings of inadequacy onto me. I’m happy in Oakley, Matt. Well, I was…”
Robyn knew she’d gone too far, hit too many nerves, but she’d got carried away fuelled by her indignation and frustration that no matter how many times she’d told him success meant different things to different people, he’d still been determined to dictate what it should mean for her. Well, no more.
Matt sat stock still, the bowl balanced on his knee, his eyes boring holes into hers. She could tell he was angry, probably more furious than she’d ever seen him, yet Robyn didn’t feel afraid. She simply matched him stare for stare until at length he spoke.
“This is going to be a difficult few months around here. It’s probably best if you spend some time in Devon with your parents.”
If anything could cut her to the core it was that. Matt knew the strained relationship she had with her mum and dad, knew she would not be welcomed even over the festive season – especially then. But he’d gone for the kill shot nonetheless. Strike one, Robyn out.
Guess it’s just the day for saying hurtful things to each other, she thought as she fought back the tears.
Aloud, Robyn said, “I’ll get my things together and be out of your hair tomorrow then.”
The anguished look that flashed across Matt’s face told her he instantly regretted his comment, but it was too late now. They’d both said things that couldn’t be unsaid, that they’d now have to live with.
He stood silently and whispered, “Are you sure?”
Robyn nodded decisively and then he was gone.
Out of her bedroom and out of her life.