Chapter 19
The next morning, Eliza woke to the blare of London traffic, the unfamiliar noise jarring after months of birdsong and rustling leaves.
Already the peace that she had got used to in the countryside seemed a lifetime away, but she was excited to walk to her favourite coffee shop for a flat white, and to wander the streets in a sea of anonymity.
She’d turned her phone off last night, and had decided she wouldn’t turn it on again until this evening.
She couldn’t bear to face the drama. There would be messages from her mother, Agatha, Fenella, Luke, everyone.
But she had done her part – she had thrown an amazing wedding, and now she needed some space.
As she stretched out in Nancy’s guest bed, Eliza wondered if she really had fucked everything up this time.
Or if it was just another in a long line of trial-and-error episodes in her newly fuck-it single life?
The city embraced her with its familiar chaos as she made her way to her favourite café.
The barista – a different one from when she’d last been a regular – handed her a flat white without the warm recognition she’d grown so used to at Stanley’s, but she decided the lack of attention just made the coffee less bitter.
God, she really had imagined this moment quite differently – she thought she would triumphantly return to London with a clear vision for her future, totally in control of everything.
She didn’t think she would be fleeing back here in the middle of the night, her heart in tatters and every one of her belongings shoved into her car again.
‘Eliza, is that you?’
She looked up to see Amanda, a former colleague from her event planning days standing right in front of her.
‘It most definitely is, hi!’ said Eliza with as much cheer as she could muster.
Long blonde hair pulled up in a messy, but incredibly stylish, updo, Amanda gave her a huge smile. ‘Oh, I thought it was you! What are you doing back in London? Rumour has it you’d abandoned the Big Smoke for greener pastures. Have you found yourself a hunky farmer yet?’
Eliza’s mind flashed back to Luke, his hands on her body, and she felt weak at the thought. ‘It’s been . . . educational, shall we say? But I’ve decided to come back for a while, see what excitement London holds for me now.’
‘Well, talk about bloody perfect timing! Julian’s been going crazy trying to plan the Harrington gala without you – he said he’s been calling, but you won’t pick up. He’d kill to have you back, I know that.’
Julian had been calling her? Shit, maybe some of those messages she’d been ignoring weren’t from debt collectors at all. She had deleted his number the same night she’d quit.
‘You think Julian would want me back?’ Eliza asked, momentarily forgetting all her troubles.
‘God, yes! The gala’s in three weeks, and the new girl trying to run it is hopeless. In fact, he only mentioned you again yesterday.’ Amanda leant forward conspiratorially. ‘Between us, I reckon he’d take you back in a heartbeat – and at a higher salary.’
Eliza took a bite of her blueberry muffin. Perhaps this was the universe offering her an escape route – a clean break from Luke and Farmington. She could slide right back into her old life, and the last three months would have been nothing except a strange detour.
‘I might just give him a call,’ she said airily, wondering if Harvey Nichols had a sale on; she really could do with a new cocktail dress or something.
‘Fantastic!’ said Amanda, beaming at her. ‘I’ll tell him to expect you. You know Julian – he’ll probably have a contract ready for you before you even finish your chat!’
After Amanda left, Eliza sat with her coffee, watching London life rush past her.
She couldn’t remember when the last time was she’d just sat in London with nothing to do, nowhere to go.
Honestly, what was up with everyone rushing around all the time?
She missed the pace of Farmington, but maybe that was okay.
It was good to get a change of pace, mix things up and then come home, ready for the next stage.
She pulled out her phone, her finger hovering over the power button, but maybe not quite yet.
She wasn’t ready for the barrage of messages that would be waiting.
So instead, she decided to wander past all her old haunts and remind herself how much she loved being a Londoner.
There was the boutique where she always blew too much of her paycheque.
Then, on the corner, there was the wine bar where she and Henry had had their first date – she remembered how excited she was when she first walked in and saw him.
She’d thought it was so romantic, and look how that turned out.
Then, with a deep breath, she powered up her phone and it exploded with messages. Seventeen missed calls, thirty-two text messages, eleven voicemails. Most of them were from Luke, getting more and more frantic as the night and day wore on.
‘Where are you? Are you okay?’
‘Please just call me. I’m worried.’
‘Eliza, I get that you’re pissed off with me, but at least let me know you’re alive.’
And messages from Agatha saying:
‘Running away solves nothing, you do know that, Eliza.’
‘Mum is now convinced you’ve been kidnapped. CALL ME!’
Even Fenella messaged: ‘I have no idea what’s happened with you and Luke, but you made my wedding totally and utterly perfect and I am so grateful. Thank you! You are a legend!’
She scrolled through the remaining messages.
Marjorie had sent a rambling text about how Dan was ‘most put out’ she had left without saying goodbye.
Vivi had written a passionate plea asking her to ring, and even her mother had sent a surprisingly restrained message asking her to call when she felt ready – and if she was still alive.
Well, at least she cared. Sinking onto a bench across from Nancy’s house, Eliza felt completely overwhelmed.
But, reading all those messages had hit home something she’d been avoiding; she had been so focused on her own desire to leave the wedding, that she hadn’t thought about how everyone would feel when they couldn’t track her down.
The wedding had been perfect until she had allowed herself to get overemotional and stormed out.
She was such an idiot. It was just like her last event, complete with Henry and his bimbo shagging. History was simply repeating itself.
She gave herself a quick shake and dialled Agatha’s number. ‘OH MY GOD, she lives!’ shouted Agatha down the phone. ‘Firstly, where are you, and are you okay? And secondly, you are so annoying.’
‘I’m fine, I’m bunking at Nancy’s.’
‘You just disappeared, Eliza, in the middle of the wedding. I had to make up some rubbish excuse about you having a migraine and needing to lie down. Aside from worrying us all sick, it’s pretty unprofessional.’
‘I’m sorry, I know, I just couldn’t stay there a second longer. I owe you one.’
‘Well, you owe me more than that! But why the panic, just because Luke said he was your landlord? It all seems a bit dramatic to me, Eliza; it’s hardly like he’s sleeping with fifty other women.’
‘It’s not just that – it was finding out about Luke and Bella’s engagement and them shagging only a few months ago, and then all of Phil’s cryptic comments about how Luke could afford to buy back all that land.
I felt like I’d walked into a story that had started long before I arrived, and everyone seemed to know the plot except me. ’
‘Welcome to village life, Eliza,’ Agatha responded, her tone softening a little.
‘It’s not like London where you can reinvent yourself every time you get a new postcode – it’s generally a tangled mess that carries on over the generations.
But, honestly, are you going to take Phil’s word over Luke’s?
The same Phil who can’t keep his dick in his pants? ’
Eliza paused. She had a point.
‘And while I think about it, did you tell him about your finances? As you guys are being so honest with each other.’
Eliza winced. ‘That’s different, though.’
‘Is it? How? You’re sitting on a mountain of debt that would terrify most men, and you haven’t mentioned it to him!’
‘That’s not the same. I didn’t lie to him about owning the house that he was living in.’
‘No, but you conveniently avoided telling him that you are, for all intents and purposes, broke.’
‘I’m not broke, Ags,’ said Eliza, her words sounding pathetic even to her. ‘I’m just a little financially challenged at the moment.’
Agatha snorted. ‘Look, I’m not saying what Luke did was right, but you’re hardly a bloody saint! This is so you, though, to run at the first hint of complication.’
‘That is so not true,’ Eliza protested. ‘I didn’t bolt until the very end this time.’
Agatha sighed over the phone and Eliza sank back into the bench. ‘Okay, so now what?’
‘I think there might be a job back in London for me – it will be good, help me sort my shit out.’
‘Go back to Julian? Is that really what you want, Eliza? You were so happy when you escaped his clutches,’ said Agatha doubtfully.
‘I don’t know, but I need to start somewhere, and maybe it’s a case of better the devil you know,’ sighed Eliza.
After promising Agatha she would keep her updated, Eliza hung up and opened her messages to type a quick reply to Luke. ‘I’m safe in London. I just need some time. Eliza.’
He replied immediately, ‘I’m here when you’re ready to talk. Luke x’
Eliza stared at it, wanting to say more, her finger hovering over the screen.
She wanted to explain herself, to ask all the questions still whizzing around in her head, but instead she flicked into her banking app and nearly passed out then and there.
The wedding fee had been paid. The negative number was getting smaller, not small enough to let go, but she was getting there.
She should have felt elated, but all she felt was tired. She tucked her phone back into her pocket and trudged towards Nancy’s. If the country had taught her one thing, it was that tea and cake could temporarily drown out any sorrow. And she wasn’t about to give up her favourite new habit.