Chapter 24
F riday rolled around and Millie couldn’t believe how quickly the last few weeks had gone and the final day of classes – plus the important press visit – was upon her. She had truly felt a sense of purpose for the first time in ages, and she didn’t just mean since moving to Cornwall. For, maybe, the first time ever. She’d made so many connections throughout the village and beyond and the fact everyone referred to her by name now meant she really felt a part of the local community. Maybe this could be somewhere to lay anchor for a while?
Speaking of an anchor, she needed to get a jiggle on and get herself down to The Sandy Anchor. Last night, she’d bitten the bullet and pinged off texts to both Amy and Daisy. Things still hadn’t been fully resolved since the “babygate” incident and it had gone on too long. She’d asked to meet them both in the pub, on neutral ground, and explain herself. Despite it being the absolute last thing she had wanted to do, she knew she had to for the sake of the blossoming friendships.
As usual, she found the morning ran away with her and she ended up sinking still-hot tea and burning her tongue in an attempt to get a shot of caffeine before heading out. She felt she’d need all the energy she could muster today. Pulling on an oversized, light brown fleece jacket and a thick woolly hat on her head she locked the door and wandered down the lane. Pockets of ice were visible through the centre of the road, shiny sheens in the watery sunlight and she skirted down the sides to avoid them. The sun was attempting to peek through the cover of light grey cloud but failing and it seemed an apt metaphor for Millie’s current feelings: wanting to be positive but just not quite making it. She took some deep breaths, reminding herself that the feelings were valid; she had never spoken about this to anyone but Sam, Jenny or the doctors and opening up would leave her feeling extremely vulnerable. Yet, she also clung to the minor hope that this may begin some sort of healing process for her. Having it out in the open wouldn’t make it any more real. It was her reality and she needed to own that. This was the first step.
The pub came into view on the left, the square bustling with people going about their daily business. She waved to Mr Slee who was out the front of the shop, organising some potted flowers for sale. A quick glance at her phone confirmed she had five minutes until midday, when they’d agreed to meet, so she changed course and headed across.
“Mornin’ maid! Ready for your big interview s’afternoon?” he asked jovially. She gave a pretend shudder.
“No interviews for me, thanks. That’ll be all Lauren’s job. I’ll be doing my usual job of keeping a low profile,” she explained, her eyes wandering over the plants. “Did these come in today?” He nodded, running his fingers lightly over the petals, causing them to spring around.
“Sure are. From Becky over at Carnglaze. We’ve got these yellow winter aconites, camellias, some winter honeysuckle and these happy lookin’ little cyclamens,” he explained, pointing to each as he went. “All rather hardy an’ robust enough to get you through the winter months. I liken them to my wife,” he spoke purposely loudly, directing it towards his wife who was behind the counter in the shop. She waved her tea towel at him and laughed. Millie smiled at their camaraderie.
“They’re all beautiful. I think I’ll take…some of the camellias,” she pondered.
“Y’know the different colours of camellia mean different things? Pink means someone is longing for you. Red means romance,” Mr Slee explained. She raised her eyebrows and chuckled.
“Hmm, not quite the message I’m going for. I’ll take two of the honeysuckle then please. What do they mean?”
“Not a clue. But they smell lovely ,” he replied, taking two of the potted flowers and placing them in a large, brown paper bag.
Out the corner of her eye, she spotted Daisy and Amy heading into the pub, so handed Mr Slee the cash and made her way over. One final deep breath in and out and she pushed open the door. The lunchtime hustle and bustle engulfed her as she entered; distant clatters of plates preparing for the lunchtime meals, a low drone of chattering from the old fellas sat at the bar, the whooshing of the beer taps. She spotted the girls instantly and made her way over to the round table in the corner, next to the Christmas tree. She plonked the paper bag down on the table.
“Peace offerings.” The girls looked at each other and then back at Millie with confused expressions.
“Are we…at war?” Amy asked.
“No, but to be perfectly honest I’ve been downright rude and twat-ish,” she blurted out, much to the girls’ surprise. It wasn’t often they heard her swear, compared to Amy who was fluent in profanities. She shrugged casually.
“You have been a bit of a twat, to be fair,” Amy concurred, and Daisy smacked her arm. “What?! It was the only the other day when we were with Evan that we said how distant she’d been…” Daisy placed her entire hand over Amy’s mouth to halt her.
“Let’s not. Look, Millie. It was weird when you just ran out on my baby announcement, yes. But I’m not mad with you. I was worried about you. I figured there was something up but knew you’d have said if you wanted to. So, I didn’t want to push it.” Millie’s heart calmed at hearing that. So they didn’t hate her. That much was a blessing.
“However,” Amy continued, through Daisy’s hand and Daisy promptly removed it, “we are worried about you. What happened that night? Alfie came back and said you’d felt sick, but I know you can drink more than you did and feel fine. So what’s the deal?”
“Ams! She might not want to say,” Daisy chided, but Millie shook her head.
“No, I need to explain. It’s been too long not saying anything, and I’ve realised bottling it up is doing me more harm than good. That’s why I got you both here today, to explain.” The girls’ curiosity was piqued, and they leaned in further as Millie began to explain the whole situation.
Tears had been cried and numerous hugs given after Millie had finished telling her story.
“Does anyone else know about this? Apart from your dickhead of an ex,” Amy added scathingly, having learned a little more about him and his attitudes following the news.
“Only my closest friend in London, Jenny. And the doctors, of course,” Millie replied, wiping tears away.
“Wow. You’re so brave Millie. And it goes without saying I completely understand your reaction the other week. I’m sorry I didn’t know. I certainly wouldn’t have announced it in the manner I did,” Daisy said. Millie shook her head.
“Don’t be silly. You weren’t to know. And you deserve to announce it in any way you please, and celebrate it in any way you want to moving forwards. Please don’t let any of this change that.”
“So…does Alfie not know?” Amy asked and Millie noticed Daisy dig her in the ribs.
“No, why would he?” Millie asked.
“Well…I just thought you guys were quite close now, that’s all,” she replied, inquisitiveness to her voice. Millie sighed.
“I don’t really know what we are. I’m meeting him tonight actually, after the press visit, because he said he wanted to talk. But I don’t know. He’s not going to be interested in me if he finds this out, is he?” The girls looked hurt for her.
“You know that’s not true,” Daisy said after too long a pause to be reassuring.
“I’m not so sure,” Millie answered, and then glanced at her phone – she had to leave. After a few hugs and more kind words of encouragement, she rose to go.
“Don’t forget your “cancel of war” presents,” she called, as she made for the door. The girls peered into the bag and Amy’s face screwed up.
“I thought it was booze,” she complained, and Millie chuckled to herself as she heard Daisy chastise her.
* * *
Lauren’s final session had gone incredibly well and the enthusiasm in the room was tangible. Just as well, seeing as local news cameras had been there for the entirety, filming clips of people painting, Lauren speaking and some interviews with a variety of attendees. It was going to be edited into a two-minute feature and shown during Saturday evening’s local news programme. It would also feature on their online newspaper forum and all social media. The main message everyone had been briefed to convey was how badly they wanted to keep their village hall and Ethel gave a brief interview all about the adjoining clock tower and how sailors from many years gone past had used it as a vantage point for home when returning. Everyone’s individual anecdotes had added local colour and emotion, which Millie knew would be swept up by the public. Whilst nothing was ever certain, she was sure the council would have to reconsider their plans, knowing how much uproar it could cause.
Although the few weeks of classes had come to an end, several were going to stay on and become regulars, including the yoga, the baby and toddler sessions, the men’s mental health group and dance fitness. One of the producers from the news team had mentioned they might also be interested in hiring the space for his child’s birthday in the New Year too, as its proximity to the beach would be ideal for outdoor games as well. It seemed the possibilities were endless, and the injection of money would allow for further renovations and updating of the décor and facilities, breathing new life into the building. The villagers were ecstatic and so was Millie. What a success. After tidying away this afternoon, there were a few days to go until Christmas and then it would be about preparing for the New Year’s Eve party around a week after that.
Of course, in between all of this business, Millie had a decision to make about where she’d spend her Christmas and also have this “chat” with Alfie tonight. She’d barely seen him today because of how preoccupied she’d been with everything else. What did he want, she wondered?
* * *
Alfie had opened a bottle of wine, gone to pour it and then placed it back in the fridge, deciding it looked too formal. He would offer it as a drinks option when she arrived, instead. They’d agreed to meet at seven and it was now three minutes to. Nervously, he paced the apartment like a caged lion. The phone call with Dana had left him a wreck earlier that day as it was. Despite wanting to talk to her face to face, she had rung back again in an excited frenzy, talking about all things “moving in” and he realised he needed to put it a stop to it right there and then. It had been absolutely the hardest thing he’d done, but once he started, he just felt the words roll out. She had cried many tears at statement that things couldn’t continue. She’d also said many swear words and called him many names. He’d been expecting that, and in a way, felt he deserved it after causing this to drag out for so long. He should’ve put the nail in the coffin months ago but realised he’d been subconsciously clinging on. It made him feel like an almost normal thirty-something male which he rarely felt, especially since his mum had died. In fact, he’d struggled to feel almost anything at all.
However, the most shocking thing had happened – after an hour of talking and Alfie really pouring his heart out and explaining how he’d felt, it ended up being the sincerest and composed he’d ever known her and their conversation had changed his mind about her in many ways, throwing a real curveball into the mix. They’d talked for well over two hours and had finished on an overall positive note. Now, he just had to discuss the outcome with Millie…
* * *
“You need to hear me out, Mills,” Sam pleaded, following her around the house as she paced from room to room, trying desperately to process what she had just witnessed.
“I don’t need to do anything Sam. You, however, need to get out of this house right now.” She meant it too. Never had she felt the rage inside of her she felt now, bubbling menacingly like a dormant volcano about to explode, flinging months of pent-up emotion and frustration all over the walls. “ Always trust your instincts” Jenny had always said, adding how the female intuition is one of impeccable accuracy, and this confirmed it. For months, things had felt different, and Sam had continually pushed away her subtle questions, pushing it all onto the infertility news, claiming she was bound to be feeling “upside down” and “vulnerable.” How dare he use that piece of information about her to cover up the fact he had been unfaithful! And how many times had it happened that she didn’t know about? There were so many questions flying about her head which she couldn’t bring herself to ask yet. Had it just been Amelia? How many times? Were there other women? Did he really think he could shit on his own doorstep, and she’d not find out?!
“I totally understand why you’re frustrated Millie and I deserve all of your anger, but I wish you’d just pause to listen to me.” She stopped pacing and was stood still on the landing, just outside their bedroom. She hadn’t gone back in it after pushing open the door around an hour ago and witnessing what she had. She was afraid of what she might see. Sam stared back at her; concern etched on his face. His hair was ruffled, bare chest rising and falling more quickly than usual due to his flustered state. Light grey tracksuit bottoms hung loosely from his hips, having been thrown on in a panic. He continued staring and she raised her eyebrows.
“Well? Go on then if you want to speak so badly.” He ran a hand through his hair and lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug.
“It’s just been so hard,” he said quietly, and she motioned at him to explain further. “Everything that’s happened since finding out…what we did. I haven’t known how to act around you Millie. It feels like there’s nothing I could have said to make you feel better when all I wanted to do was make it all go away.” She furrowed her brow.
“OK, I’m struggling to understand how any of that links to you ending up in bed with someone else, OUR bed?!” He sighed exasperatedly.
“I get that. I don’t really have an explanation you’re going to want to hear. I’ve just felt…empty. And in need of some reassurance and connection. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to ask you after everything you’ve been through so…” Her temper raged again inside of her.
“So you figured CHEATING on me would be…what exactly? Doing me a FAVOUR?!” She spat the words like poison.
In a split second, the Sam she knew before the day they’d received the news whirled in her mind. He’d done all the chasing at uni, desperate for her number and to take her on a date. They’d slipped comfortably into one another’s lives, and he’d never indicated he’d do anything like this. Yeah, so he hadn’t always been crazily supportive of her artwork and there were quirks of his which drove her insane but, nobody’s perfect. She’d always envisioned them buying a home and settling down with kids. I guess once that became an impossibility with her, he was thinking of searching elsewhere.
The rage dissipated and complete numbness took over.
“You need to leave,” she spoke quietly. His eyes widened.
“I’m sorry?”
“You need to leave and not come back for a few weeks. I’m going to find somewhere else to live.” She spoke scarily calmly, surprising even herself. He stepped towards her now with hands reaching out, but she jolted backwards, as though even the slightest brush of his skin would scar her. “You can’t convince me otherwise, Sam. Grab some things and leave, now. I’m being serious.” She met his gaze and fixed it, indicating she wasn’t going to change her mind. He held it a few moments more until sadness overcame his face and he gently pushed open the bedroom door and went inside, closing it behind him.