Chapter 15
The next morning, I woke up and had a brief moment of peace before I remembered Richard had turned up in the small hours.
I lay very still under the fluffy, down-filled duvet (one I’d used as a kid staying in Aunt Lou’s guest room) and listened hard.
No sounds of movement in the flat. Perhaps he’d woken up, hungover and ashamed, and had let himself out?
I heard a clang from the kitchen and sighed. Yeah, that had probably been too much to hope for.
I got up and wrapped myself in my dressing gown before making my way to the kitchen.
My new Greens Steel tumbler was on the floor, surrounded by a puddle of protein shake.
Richard, in his rumpled golf clothes, was scooping powder into a second insulated tumbler – also mine – and adding water from the filter jug.
‘Morning,’ I said flatly.
‘… morning,’ Richard grunted. He dropped a shaker ball into the tumbler and closed the lid, mixing up the protein drink and following my gaze to the mess on the floor. ‘Slipped out of my hand. I’ll mop it up.’
I didn’t say anything. He didn’t deserve a little pat on the back for cleaning up his own mess.
Instead I sidestepped the puddle and made myself some breakfast – toasted potato scones with pan-scrambled eggs.
I made it quickly and took my plate to the lounge to eat, away from the kitchen where Richard was leaning against the counter.
‘Any plans for today?’ he asked, after drinking his shake in silence for a while.
‘Probably going to do some errands,’ I said, scrolling my phone as a distraction.
‘Yeah, I thought the fridge was looking a bit empty,’ he said.
I hummed in agreement but didn’t offer anything else.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Richard carefully refill the filter jug and put it back in the fridge.
Something I’d literally never seen him do before.
Usually he left the empty jug out, or worse, put it back so I didn’t realise it needed filling up again.
It was like watching a dog pick its own mess up in a bag and drop it in the bin. Slightly uncanny.
Interesting that he magically knew how to do these things now. This was the man that Mum thought was my ‘future’? Maybe I’d created this mess by making out he was perfect for the last three years, to win her approval. God, that was depressing.
I finished my breakfast and left to get washed and dressed while Richard was cleaning up the spilled shake. Something else that wasn’t usually his move. Sometimes he’d lay paper towels over a spillage but that was as far as it went.
While choosing what I wanted to wear for the day, I found myself thinking about Cooper and told myself firmly to knock it off.
It wasn’t that I was trying to dress for attention, but I was wavering over my usual errand-running outfit – jumper, leggings and trainers.
What was the harm in looking just a little bit put-together?
He was cute, well, hot. And I was single. No crime there.
I wondered what Mum would make of Cooper – older than me but shorter, scruffy and boat-dwelling.
She’d be horrified. I highly doubted she’d label him ‘my future’ anyway, which, to be honest, only made him seem more attractive.
Did he have a job, a car? Probably not. I remembered how he’d looked washing and carefully drying the mugs on his boat.
At least he’d bloody clean up after himself.
In the end I popped on some blusher and tinted lip balm, a quick dash of mascara.
Just my usual make-up. For clothes, I went a little less scruffy than I might otherwise have done – buttery lilac workout leggings, a belted T-shirt dress and a hexi-cardigan I’d made the year before in shades of pale purple and cream.
I stuck my hair up in a claw clip with the usual untamed strands escaping within seconds.
I wasn’t about to do a full wash day today, though.
I grabbed the bag from the spare room and tucked the hand warmers into it, then got my things together to leave. Richard was still in the kitchen, now making himself a cup of tea. It was annoying but I wasn’t about to begrudge him a tea bag and some milk.
‘You can let yourself out,’ I said, on my way to the door.
‘Do you want me to transfer some money for the shop?’
I felt a flush of anger pass over me at his assumption. ‘You don’t live here.’
‘Well, I do still—’
I was out of the door and letting it close behind me before he could finish.
I didn’t want anything from him. By the end of today, I’d be organised and ready to pick apart our lives, like frogging a badly made project back into its component yarns.
Separate and ready to start over again as two new things.
The weather was good, despite the grey clouds that had hung over town yesterday.
The air was a little crisper and the ground was slightly damp, as if we’d had a light shower but, other than that, the conditions were perfect for a walk.
I’d come back for the car later, since I needed it for the shopping.
I didn’t meet anyone as I crossed the park, where the community garden was already heaving with pumpkins, swelling between enormous leaves.
Soon every one of them would be distributed to a different business or landmark, carved for the annual competition.
The winner got to keep the coveted pottery pumpkin trophy for a year and, after the judging, Maeve and the church ladies would serve up industrial quantities of pumpkin pies, sage and pumpkin scones and toasted pumpkin seeds.
I was in such a good mood I waved at the scarecrows guarding the vegetable hoard – this year the junior school had made two, Buzz Lightyear and Sally from the sweet shop…
though she looked a bit like Taylor Swift if she did her make-up by whacking her face into a paint pallet.
I was sure Sally was still pretty chuffed.
I walked through town. Nothing would be open this early on a Sunday. The church bells were ringing out loudly and, aside from the milkman, the roads were empty of vehicles. I felt wonderfully free and unobserved, checking my reflection in the darkened shop windows.
I cut through the meadow, encountering a solitary dog walker – Alistair, the vet who lived across the hall from our flat.
I gave him a little wave, enjoying the quiet too much to say anything.
I hadn’t seen his girlfriend for a while – Cressida, I think her name was.
But they didn’t live together. I’d meant to ask her how much it’d be for a birthday cake for Richard. Not that I needed one now.
There was a light mist hanging over the surface of the canal and, as I got closer to the viaduct, I could smell wood smoke in the damp air. Cooper had a fire going in his stove. Clearly, he was also an early riser and wasn’t one to go get pissed on a Saturday, as if he was still a fresher at uni.
It wasn’t until I reached the boat that I got nervous. Maybe he wouldn’t appreciate being bothered this early in the morning? I could imagine him inside, reading or at least scowling at a newspaper, as he ate some ruthlessly sensible cereal like Shredded Wheat and drank black coffee.
Having reached the bank near the boat, I stopped and wondered if I ought to just leave the bag with a note. I had my shopping pad in my bag. But that felt a bit rude, cold even. I could knock and then he could decide if he wanted to answer or not, I decided.
I reached over to knock on the door and it opened under my knuckles.
I squealed. It was automatic as the door just opened suddenly and Cooper appeared – tousle-haired and wearing another of ‘my’ jumpers, this one a grey crewneck with some popcorn stitches around the lower third of the torso.
He jumped, which was slightly validating. One hand flew to his chest, clutching a battered pack of cigarettes and a lighter against himself. The other grabbed the side of the doorframe, as if to keep himself from falling.
‘Well… I’m awake now,’ he huffed. ‘Jesus – just when I thought you weren’t coming back. Was the plan to lull me into a false sense of security?’
‘Did it work?’ I asked, and he laughed drily.
‘Just a bit. At least I didn’t scream – think of my neighbours.’ He gestured to the empty canal and then his eyes fell to the bag I was carrying. ‘And here I thought I wasn’t even getting a thank-you card.’
My face was warm, a fluttering in my chest. Was I already flirting again or was this just how he talked and it was bringing it out of me? It was hard to tell.
‘It’s just your clothes. I did wash them, sorry for not bringing them over sooner. I just got a bit busy,’ I said, all in a rush.
‘Eh, no worries, not like I’ve got a shortage of joggers to wear. You’re up early…’ He gave me a considering look, like he was trying to work something out. ‘Want to come in for a tea?’
‘… um, sure, but I thought you were coming out for a cigarette?’
He shrugged and tucked the packet into the pocket of his washed-out tartan pyjama bottoms, which rucked up over his feet, slightly too long. ‘Should give it up really, but I can wait a while.’
He stepped back and I followed him into the boat.
He’d clearly been working hard in the past few days.
Most of the Diana memorabilia had been sorted into old cardboard boxes and stacked up ready to be dealt with.
Without all the dolls and china in the way, the inside of the boat was actually quite spacious, the varnished timber walls slightly sun-faded in the few spots they hadn’t been covered in clutter.
‘Going well then – the renovation,’ I said as I entered the kitchen after him to find him already putting the kettle on.