CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Since I’d returned from New York, I’d had a few missed calls and texts from Richard, which I’d just ignored.
I reckoned he’d be feeling bad about the way things ended and probably wanted to ease his conscience by explaining himself. But I told myself I wasn’t interested in his grovelling apologies.
Part of me, though, was burning to hear what he had to say for himself.
I hated to admit it, but there was a black hole in my life where our relationship used to be and even though I despised him for what he’d done, I couldn’t help feeling empty and sad thinking about our wrecked future.
His texts kept repeating the same thing – that he just wanted to talk to me. But I was determined not to answer. He really didn’t deserve a response from me.
But then late one night when the phone rang and Richard’s name flashed up, I finally gave in to temptation and picked up. (I’d had several glasses of wine and was feeling lonely and very sorry for myself.)
‘Katja. How are you?’
‘Fine.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Absolutely hunky dory.’
A pause. ‘Are you really fine, though?’
I’d snorted. ‘Oh, sorry, was that the wrong answer? Am I supposed to be feeling sad and alone without you and drowning my sorrows in a bottle? Well, if that’s what you were hoping for, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed.’ I glanced at the almost empty wine bottle with a grimace.
‘No, no. I just... well, the thing is, I miss you, Katja. That’s all. And I just wanted to let you know that.’
‘Right.’
‘I was thinking today about that great weekend we spent in the Lake District when we first got together. We got soaked climbing that mountain, remember? I can’t recall which mountain it was, but we ended up drying off at that cosy little whitewashed pub in the middle of nowhere?’
I swallowed as the memories of happy times came flooding in.
‘Great End,’ I muttered.
‘Sorry? Look... I know things ended badly and you can’t believe how terrible I feel about it all, but I just want you to know that –’
‘The mountain.’
‘What?’
‘The mountain was called Great End.’
‘Ah, yes. Of course.’ He gave a forced laugh. ‘Very well remembered. And that pub... I can’t remember its name but that log fire was amazing.’
‘The Rose and Crown.’
‘Yes, of course. Of course.’
There was an awkward pause in which I endeavoured to hold it together, taking a last swig from my wine glass.
‘Katja... I wish I could see you, face to face. The project here has finished early so I’ll be back in the UK next week and I was wondering if maybe we could meet up and talk?’
My insides rolled over. Where was Emily in all this? He hadn’t mentioned her at all. Maybe they were over. Had it just been a blip... a sort of holiday romance? She really was so much younger than him. And he and I had so much shared history together...
‘What do you think? Katja?’
My head was in a muddle. I’d vowed never to speak to him again after how he’d treated me. But there were so many questions I wanted to ask him.
So I opened my mouth to say, ‘Okay.’
But at that moment, I heard Emily’s voice in the background, calling out to him.
‘Richard? Mum wants to know if we want to stay with them for a while when we get back to the UK. She and dad really want to have the chance to get to know you.’
I froze.
They were still a couple.
With plans to return to the UK together!
‘Look, we both feel terrible about what happened,’ Richard was saying. ‘And Emily would really like it if we could all meet up... maybe even be friends?’
‘Oh, go to hell, Richard!’ I shouted, ending the call and throwing the phone down.
*****
On Friday, at work in the café, Ellie was still on a high after the launch of our pop-up cake shop.
It had been quite successful for our very first run. After the farmers’ market at Lockley Meadow, we’d stopped to eat lunch in a lay-by on the way to our next stop, which was Primrose Wood. Finally, it was on to the village of Hawksley Rise, before returning to the café. We’d managed to sell more than fifty per cent of the bakes we’d started out with – almost enough to cover the petrol costs – but we’d agreed that word of mouth would likely see demand rise as the weeks went on.
Ellie beamed at me as I brought a plate of fresh sultana scones in from the kitchen. ‘I’ve had so many messages on social media about the Travelling Cake Shop! Most people really like the idea that we’re preventing waste and slashing prices to a level where we’re just breaking even.’
She showed me some of the encouraging messages on her phone.
‘Are you happy continuing with it?’ she asked with a frown, having obviously picked up on my weariness with life.
I pasted on a smile. ‘Yes, of course. I really enjoyed Wednesday, getting out and about, and meeting all those lovely new customers.’ With a few exceptions – namely that pair of irritating idiots in their hard hats!
‘I followed Caleb and his housing project and he followed back straight away and posted a really glowing review of our new enterprise. Look.’
I took her phone and read it. ‘Nice.’ I nodded, passing it back to her.
‘You don’t sound very enthusiastic.’ She looked at me worriedly. ‘Is something wrong?’
So then I told her about my phone conversation with Richard the evening before. After a restless night’s sleep, I was exhausted, and still feeling hurt and bruised – and annoyed that Richard should be trying to stay in touch when it was clear that he and Emily were still very much a couple and were planning to come back to the UK together. She was obviously very keen on him if she’d given up her dreams of dancing in a Broadway musical to follow him home...
‘Why on earth is he still texting you and phoning?’ Ellie wondered, as two people – a man and a woman in their forties – came into the café and made their way to the counter. ‘Would you ever get back with Richard?’
‘No! Definitely not. And anyway, it’s obvious he and Emily are planning to sail away into the sunset.’
She sighed. ‘You two were so good together. Richard’s an idiot – even Fen says that – and one day, he’s going to realise he threw away the best relationship he’ll ever have, just for a bit of trans- Atlantic excitement. But by then, you’ll have met someone much more worthy of you, I promise.’
I gave her a feeble smile. ‘I hope so. He’s burned his boats as far as I’m concerned. There’s no way I’d ever give him a second chance.’
‘Good for you!’ murmured the newly-arrived female customer, who was examining the cakes on display under their glass domes. ‘In my experience, once a cheater, always a cheater.’ She gave me a sympathetic look. She had neat, brown shoulder-length hair and wise brown eyes. Turning to Ellie, she said, ‘I’ll take a piece of that delicious-looking triple chocolate cake. What about you, Ray?’ She looked up at the man with her and he nodded rather listlessly. He had a handsome face but he looked thin and gaunt. Up close, he looked a decade older than the woman.
‘Two pieces, then, please?’ The woman smiled at me. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop on your conversation but we can both sympathise. Can’t we, Ray?’ She gave him a rueful glance. ‘It feels like the end of the world when someone you really cared about goes off with someone else.’
The man called Ray nodded wearily. ‘Especially when they go off with someone you were supposed to be best friends with.’ His ghostly pallor was emphasised by the dark shadows under his eyes. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in weeks.
‘How awful,’ I commiserated and Ellie nodded in sympathy.
‘Why don’t you take a seat and I’ll bring this over to you?’ I suggested, as Ellie turned to the coffee machine and I began cutting two slices of the chocolate cake.
When I took the tray over, the woman was leaning towards Ray and murmuring intently. She pressed his hand and I guessed she was trying to cheer him up.
‘Ah, excellent.’ She smiled up at me. ‘Cake is just the job when you need some comfort. Especially when the cakes are as scrumptious as they are here.’ She helped me unload the plates and cups from the tray. ‘Ray and I have started meeting up here twice a week for cake and coffee, and it’s doing me the world of good.’ She glanced at Ray.
He gave a grudging smile. ‘It’s definitely helping. I don’t know where I’d be if I didn’t have our coffee meetings in the diary. I probably wouldn’t make it out of bed.’ He stood up. ‘Back in a minute.’
‘Okay.’ She smiled up at me. ‘I’m Cheryl, by the way. Break-ups are bloody awful and Ray’s taken it really hard.’
‘Have you both been through the mill at the same time, then?’ I asked, watching Ray pick up sugar from the counter.
She nodded. ‘The exact same time. We had the misfortune of discovering that our partners were cheating on us – with each other.’