Chapter 17
Tara had just dropped Calum off at his dad’s.
She waved to her son, refusing to even look at Richard who had answered the door.
He’d only have a ‘look’ to give her, whether it be a needy puppy-eyed one or a tight stare of contempt, depending on his mood.
Quite frankly, she was past caring how Richard felt.
At one time she’d try to pacify his moods, but it was no longer any of her concern, thankfully.
Driving back home alone, Tara reflected on just how much she had pandered to her ex-husband, forever bending over backwards to keep him happy.
And for what? Richard had never appreciated her, always taking his wife for granted.
Memories flooded her mind; all the boozy nights out he’d had with his friends, whilst her social life had been pretty non-existent since having Calum.
Then there were the weekend aways he’d often go on, whether it be for the rugby, stag dos or any other excuse he’d come up with.
Richard thought nothing of leaving her at home with their son, whilst he cleared off to do his own thing.
It was because of this independent lifestyle Richard had carved out for himself that had enabled him to have an affair so easily.
Tara had become used to him not being around all the time.
She had never suspected a thing. Only once, when she’d seen a bank statement containing a hotel payment.
She had queried it with him, but he’d given an excuse that there was no room available at the digs his mates had booked, so he’d had to go to a separate hotel.
Looking back, Tara cursed herself for not pursuing it further.
Had she done so, she’d have soon realised the five-star country hotel was nowhere near the supposed rugby match.
She’d have also realised that there hadn’t even been a rugby match.
That weekend had been the first of many nights spent with Melissa.
Only after the divorce did Tara piece it all together and hated herself for being so trusting with him.
But, she conceded, shouldn’t she have been able to trust her own husband? Apparently not.
Anger still flared inside her, especially when she considered how Richard had dealt with their separation, in particular the financial matters.
When it came to money, he was definitely astute.
Not only was he clever, but very manipulative.
Tara could see this now, looking objectively from the periphery, as opposed to being stuck in the thick of it.
Now that the dust had settled, she could see far more clearly.
She understood Claire’s frustration at the terms she’d initially agreed on.
It was almost laughable, had it not been so sad.
The fact she’d allowed her ex-husband to grind her down and relent so much to him was indeed sad.
Then Tara took a deep breath and gripped the steering wheel.
She’d got through it. She’d finally seen sense and was doing something about it, being proactive and ‘getting back control of her life,’ as Claire had said.
The court hearing date was looming and obviously affecting Richard.
She could tell by the way he was acting and from the feedback Calum was giving her.
Apparently all was not well in his household.
Calum had noted an atmosphere and overheard a few heated discussions.
This in itself gave Tara a degree of satisfaction.
Thinking of brighter things, she contemplated her date tonight with Jack.
She so wanted a change of scene, good company and a few drinks.
It had felt like an age since she’d let her hair down and had some fun.
A few hours later, Tara stood in front of the mirror scrutinising her reflection.
Not bad, she thought. Deciding on smart but casual, she wore slim-fitting jeans and a wraparound tunic with a brown, orange and cream pattern, which complimented her hair and complexion nicely.
She even painted her nails, something she hadn’t done in years.
Then again, it had been a while since she’d gone on a date.
All of a sudden, Tara felt a pang of anxiety.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror. ‘You can do this,’ she told herself.
They’d arranged to meet in The Smugglers.
It wasn’t a long walk from where she lived and she preferred to go on foot, rather than be picked up by Jack.
Striding out of Augusta House and onto the tidal road leading to the pub, Tara breathed in the fresh, salty sea air.
Spring had fully edged its way into Samphire Bay and a pleasant breeze whispered through the sea-grass, gently swaying in the late evening sunshine.
She took a right turn, down towards the village.
How quaint this place was, thought Tara, taking in a row of pretty white cottages with colourful front lawns divided by picket fences, a medieval church and a village hall.
There was a cobbled square containing a large stone cross.
The Smugglers was a sandstone building with mullion windows, an ancient oak door and pink-and-white geraniums stood in terracotta pots by the entrance.
Heads turned as Tara walked into the busy pub.
It wasn’t often the locals witnessed a stunning redhead pass by them with such cool composure.
Jack saw her immediately and waved up. Her face broke into a smile at noticing him and she made her way to his table.
Jack received a few sly glances, which he ignored.
‘Hi.’ He stood up to greet her and smiled.
Tara grinned back. ‘Hi.’
‘What are you drinking?’
‘A white wine would be lovely, thanks,’ replied Tara, resisting the urge to say ‘a large one’.
Jack soon came back carrying a glass of wine and another pint for himself.
One or two of the men at the bar had uttered a few comments to him, which he’d nonchalantly batted away.
It was inevitable Tara would cause a stir, being new blood to the pub, and looking so attractive too. Jack felt proud to be with her.
‘There you go.’ He placed the drinks down and sat opposite her.
‘Thanks,’ said Tara and took a mouthful. She closed her eyes, savouring the cool, zesty flavour.
Jack gazed at her and laughed. ‘You look like you needed that.’
Tara blew out a gusty sigh. ‘I did.’
‘Yeah, it must be very stressful working in A parties on the beach, skinny dipping in a moonlit sea, we had a ball,’ he chuckled.
Tara laughed, picturing him and Robin living it up together in such a fabulous location. She so wanted the same for Calum.
‘And it’s now home to none other than Felix Paschal,’ continued Jack.
‘Yeah, I heard he bought that house on the peninsula,’ said Tara, then watched him pull something out of his pocket.
‘It’s an invite,’ Jack told her, passing it over. He examined those gorgeous green eyes of hers dart across the card, reading all the details. She looked up at him. ‘Would you like to come?’ he asked, a touch self-satisfying.
‘Seriously? How come you’ve got an invite?’ said Tara, amazed.
Jack explained his connection to Bunty and Emma, all the while Tara sat and listened in awe. She glanced again at the date and tried to calculate if she’d be working, then paused. She’d take annual leave if need be. There was no way she was missing this.
‘Of course. I’d love to come!’ Tara beamed.
Not bad for a first date, thought Jack smugly. Not bad at all.