Chapter 2 #4
‘Mum!’ Eliza and Agatha exclaimed in unison, before dissolving into laughter.
‘I’m just saying,’ Margaret sniffed, dabbing at her lips with a napkin. ‘Men of a certain age often have substantial pensions. And they’re so grateful for attention.’
‘I’m not dating an octogenarian,’ Eliza said firmly. ‘No matter how flexible Pilates has made him.’
‘He’s hardly an octogenarian,’ Margaret muttered. ‘And that sarong was quite becoming.’
‘Mother,’ Eliza groaned, slumping back in her chair. ‘I’ve been single for approximately five minutes. Can we please not start matchmaking already?’
‘I’m just saying, options exist. Even in the countryside.’
Agatha snorted into her coffee. ‘Mum, you’re incorrigible.’
‘I prefer “resourceful”,’ Margaret replied with a smile.
Just then, the barn door swung open with enough force to rattle the windows, and a tall figure strode in. Several conversations paused as he made his way to the counter, and Eliza found herself staring along with half the café.
He was exactly the kind of man she’d fantasised about during her revenge daydream – ruggedly handsome in that effortless way that suggested he’d never spent more than five minutes in front of a mirror.
His jeans were worn in all the right places, the sleeves of his flannel shirt rolled up to reveal strong forearms and, when he smiled at the barista, Eliza felt something flutter in her chest that had nothing to do with caffeine.
‘That,’ Agatha murmured, following her gaze, ‘is more like it.’
‘Girls,’ Margaret whispered urgently, ‘stop gawking like schoolgirls. It’s terribly obvious.
’ Eliza forced herself to look away, but not before catching the man’s quick glance in their direction.
Had he noticed her staring? God, she hoped not.
She was suddenly acutely aware of her haphazard appearance – hair thrown up in a ponytail, minimal makeup, and clothes that had been hastily pulled from her overnight bag.
‘I wonder who he is,’ Eliza murmured, trying to sound casual as she pretended to be fascinated by the remainder of her cinnamon bun.
‘Why don’t you ask him?’ Agatha suggested with a mischievous glint in her eye. ‘I dare you.’
‘I’m not twelve, Agatha,’ Eliza hissed, but considered it, only to look up and he was gone.
‘Anyway,’ Eliza said, steering the conversation away from the vision that had just appeared and disappeared so quickly, ‘I just want to say, I get it. I know this is probably all for the best. Henry was a philandering, arrogant twat, but I can’t help it, I loved him.
And his wine cellar made me go weak at the knees.
But it’s fine. Here we are in the middle of fucking nowhere, and I’m going to attempt to heal my broken heart and make a life for myself.
There’s bound to be an opportunity for a bit of fun, as we just saw.
And worst-case scenario I can buy myself a vibrator.
Sorry, Mum.’ She raised her coffee cup for a cheers, and Agatha raised hers to clink.
‘There’s the Eliza I know, dramatic to the end!
Though seeing how you’ve never had a rebound in your life, let alone a one-night stand .
. .’ She stopped abruptly and changed tack.
‘It’s not that bad, really. You have a gorgeous little cottage all to yourself, you’ll make friends within days – I mean, hell, you’ve made about three already!
And as you say, maybe you’ll take a chance on a fling or some hot rebound sex.
Maybe it will be that hunk of love that just walked in the door! It might be good for you.’
‘You two are awful. I’m popping to the loo. I’ll check he’s not hiding in there for you both!’
As their mum wandered off, Eliza leant forward conspiratorially.
‘What am I going to do about work? Don’t tell Mum, but I didn’t exactly leave Julian’s with a bonus and the last few years, well, you know Henry, always the best for us .
. .’ She tailed off, wondering why she’d started talking in the first place.
‘Oh shit, look, I’m completely bloody skint.
And I don’t have a plan – for all I know the only events they have down here are the annual tombola and a few bake sales.
Not exactly the kind of place that’s needing an experienced events co-ordinator for a celebrity party, auction or exclusive launch. ’
If she hadn’t felt like a failure driving off with all her worldly belongings, some stolen wine bottles and only a car to her name, she felt like it now.
She’d even looked up how much her beloved Citroen would sell for, and when that came back as under a thousand pounds, she’d given up.
She didn’t own anything of value. She could sell everything she owned and still be nowhere.
Who gives up their dream job when they’re up to their eyeballs in debt? Her. Apparently.
‘Oh, Eliza.’ Agatha pushed their empty cups and plates to one side and reached over to hold both of her hands.
‘That’s shit. I know it is. But you do land on your feet; it’s just what you do.
You take risks and they usually pay off.
I know this wasn’t a planned thing, but I promise it won’t be any different.
Have you got any savings? Something to help tide you over? ’
‘Of course,’ Eliza lied. She couldn’t let her sister know just how deep into debt she currently was.
‘Well then . . .’ Agatha sat back beaming ‘. . . think how much more exciting your future is than my boring life with Toby. Nowadays I’m lucky if I get it missionary twice a year – I’d swap with you any day. My gorgeous pillowy bosoms are just going to waste.’