Chapter 48
NOW
Pete noticed Brad, standing behind Bella, his brow furrowed. ‘Who’s this?’
‘Brad. Good to meet ya.’ Brad stepped forward, hand outstretched. Pete shook it.
It was, thought Bella, one of the more surreal moments of her life. ‘Pete,’ she said again. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ He looked at her, his eyes pleading. ‘Bella, I thought I’d had enough of us. But after being in England, then coming back over here to sign the contract, seeing everything with new eyes… I was an idiot.’
‘I’m just going to check out your garden,’ Brad interjected. ‘Give you a bit of space.’
Neither of them replied. He walked off, hands in pockets, whistling nonchalantly as if this were a completely normal situation.
‘Pete,’ Bella said, putting a hand on her forehead as if checking her own temperature. ‘I— You realise that this is insane, don’t you?’
The hand with the flower dropped to his side. ‘Why? Lots of people get back together after a separation. Lots of people struggle in a marriage.’
‘I know. And maybe a few weeks ago I’d have felt differently. But I’ve realised a lot of things… about us, about myself. I know it sounds weird, but I’ve changed.’
‘You mean you’re with the American guy,’ he said pointedly.
‘No! Actually, I’m not! I’m not with anyone.’ She opted not to mention the French bloke she’d had a fling with.
‘So why not try?’ he wheedled.
‘Pete! You literally abandoned me out of the blue. You left me in a terrible situation, with no notice. And disappeared!’
‘Yeah, but I said sorry.’
‘Sorry isn’t a magic word, Pete! It doesn’t undo damage that you’ve done.’
‘Look,’ he said, more softly, reaching out a hand. ‘I know that you’ve got abandonment issues, after your mum then your dad, but…’
‘Seriously? You’re blaming this on me? Because even if I didn’t have abandonment issues, I’d still have objected to literally being abandoned, Pete.’
‘OK. OK. I’m sorry.’ His shoulders slumped. ‘Look, I can make it up to you. I want to. We were good together. Eight years of marriage, Bella. You surely don’t want to throw all that away.’
He looked crestfallen and somewhere under the shock and anger, she felt a pang of sympathy.
‘Look, Pete,’ she said, ‘I know when you told me about wanting to split up, I was upset. But the more distance I got from it all, the more I realised that you were right. We were kids when we got together. We tried to do something— well, amazing. And we did it! We really made it work. But things between us hadn’t been good for a while. ’
‘Yes, but a lot of that was the stress of running the business and—’
‘Running the business?’ She felt a familiar prickle on her skin.
How did he manage to do this every time.
‘I was running the business. You were… you were just there, Pete. Yes, you did some great work in the garden, and you were chatty at breakfast with the guests. I’m not saying you did nothing, but it wasn’t the business that broke us.
It was the fact you left me to struggle. We weren’t a team. You didn’t listen!’
‘You just got so stressed and—’
‘Why do you think that was?’ she almost screeched.
She was reminded now of some of the arguments they’d have time and time again.
They would start with an accusation from her, a request for help or support, a plea for him to take over some of the mental load that came with running a B stuck.’
‘I wish I’d known.’
‘I should have said. But you know, it isn’t too late, Bella. We’re still married, legally. And we could try again. You could run a business. Maybe hire some help. I could find something that would make me happy?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘You could, Pete. But not with me.’
‘Why not?’ His tone was sharper now. ‘Because of this American bloke?’
‘Brad? No. Not because of Brad.’
‘You looked pretty cosy with him a second ago.’
‘He was standing behind me. We weren’t exactly locked in a passionate kiss.’
Pete shrugged. Not the nonchalant Gallic shrug of Yves or Henri, but a petulant, childish one. ‘Still.’
Bella looked at Pete. The man whom she’d spent nearly a third of her life with.
It was impossible not to feel something for him.
Because their split hadn’t been bitter and acrimonious.
Just a gentle pulling away, a loosening of ties.
‘Anyway, we couldn’t go back, Pete. We’re signing the house over in, like, a week. ’
‘Not back to the house. Go back to us.’ He touched her hand where it was still resting on his arm.
‘Think about it. We’ll have a little bit of money to tide us over.
We could find somewhere to live. Maybe near your new job if you like it there?
I could set up as an artisan – use some of my new skills.
And we’d be us again! Pete and Bella, Bella and Pete. ’
‘I just don’t know, Pete,’ she said at last. ‘It’s too late. I just can’t go back. Don’t know if I want to.’
‘Think about it,’ he said. ‘Just think about it.’
She shook her head. ‘Pete, I—’
‘Don’t say anything,’ he said, putting a finger on her lips as if he thought they were in some sort of romantic movie. ‘Just give me twenty-four hours. Think about it for one day. Don’t say anything until then. That’s all I’m asking.’
It didn’t seem unreasonable. She nodded. ‘OK.’
There was an uneasy silence. Then Pete suddenly stood up, his smile as wide as if she’d told him ‘I do’ and they were about to head off into the sunset. ‘I’ll leave you to sort your bits,’ he said. ‘And there are a couple of boxes of stuff in the kitchen you’re welcome to.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘I’ll give you some headspace,’ he said. ‘I’m around for another couple of nights. Staying in H?tel France in the centre.’
‘Aubusson?’
He nodded. ‘So, I’ll see you?’
‘But Pete—’
‘Twenty-four hours, remember.’
‘OK.’
He walked out through the front door, down the steps and disappeared. Shortly afterwards, she heard a car engine purr into life and he passed on the front drive in a small Nissan – a hire car that he must have tucked around the back.
She wondered how long he’d waited at the house for her, clutching that poor wilted flower. Then she got to her feet and stood brushing dust from her bottom. Brad appeared at the doorway, his smile almost a grimace. ‘You good?’
‘Um, not sure,’ she said, making a face. She told him about Pete, his sudden desire to reunite, to try again.
‘Oh wow,’ Brad raised his eyebrows. ‘That’s a brave move, my man.’
‘Just a bit.’
‘I mean you were saying that he hadn’t even sent you a text message for months?’
‘Not a single GIF.’
‘Phew! And I thought Naomi was difficult!’ He grinned. ‘I take it by his sudden exit that you told him exactly where he stands.’
She was silent now, and as he looked at her his expression changed. ‘I mean, you told him no, right?’
‘Not exactly.’
‘Oh.’
‘It is a no. It will be,’ she said quickly. ‘But he asked me – begged really – to think about it for twenty-four hours, so I said I would.’
Brad’s cheeks were flushed. ‘OK.’
‘I didn’t feel I could tell him no, after he asked that. He’s a good guy, you know?’
‘So you might get back with him?’
‘No! Of course not! It’s the last thing I want.’ She heard the frustration in her own tone. ‘He just told me not to give him an answer for twenty-four hours, and I agreed. But…’
‘Right. I see.’ But Brad’s tone suggested otherwise. He cleared his throat as if trying to reset himself. ‘Anyway,’ he smiled, but there was something slightly off. As if his eyes hadn’t received the memo. ‘Are you going to give me a tour of this beautiful house?’
‘Sure, of course.’ She gestured him towards the door that led off the tiled hallway to the kitchen.
‘Thank you,’ he said, his smile still fixed.
‘Brad,’ she said as they walked through into the large open plan kitchen, each cupboard painstakingly chalk-painted by Pete three years ago. ‘You do know that I have no intention of getting back with Pete, don’t you?’
‘It’s fine if you do.’
‘Right. OK. But I wouldn’t—’
‘I mean, we’re not— it’s not like there’s anything between us,’ he said with an exaggerated shrug.
Her heart sank. ‘Oh. But didn’t you—’
‘Great kitchen! Hey, is that an Aga?’ His voice upbeat but artificially loud, Brad shut down the conversation, firmly changing the subject.
She found herself momentarily lost for words. He slapped the top of the cream-coloured double oven with its multiple doors.
‘Um. Well, yes, it is.’
‘Man, I love these things!’ he said, bending down to inspect it.
‘Me too.’ She opened her mouth to say something else but found herself shutting it. For now, there was nothing more she could say.