Chapter 4 #2
Cherry tried her best to laugh. ‘If you’re happy playing for crisps. Mum refuses to play for money. Thinks it leaches energy from the soul.’
Sean’s large hand hovered over the deck.
Cherry was distracted thinking of it on her body.
It looked strong. Would have to be to build whisky barrels all day.
But it would also need to know when to exercise finesse, to craft with attention to detail every curve and smooth edge of those barrels.
She couldn’t wait for him to explore every curve and smooth edge of her naked skin.
The other hand – the one with the wedding ring on – linked into her own, settling her heart rate.
Pam turned over the first card Sean had chosen.
‘Ah, the King of Pentacles. This represents a strong man, someone who is a craftsman of some kind. Good with his hands. ‘
Sean nodded sagely.
Nicely played, Butler.
‘He told you he’s a cooper, Mum.’
‘Quite cool of that card to pop up, though.’ Sean was keeping her mum on side, and for that Cherry had to admire him. His manners were impeccable.
‘Yep, guess so.’ Cherry examined his profile while her mother selected the next card.
He had the most striking jawline she’d ever seen.
It could be described as defined and capable.
One thing that she agreed with her mother on was that you could tell the mettle of a man by the strength of his jawline.
And, by the looks of his, Sean had integrity to spare.
The second card was the King of Cups.
‘Well, this is rare.’ Pam tapped the card. ‘I don’t normally see this card for a man under forty. Here, we have a man who is strong on the outside yet compassionate on the inside. A real kind-hearted father figure type.’
Cherry sucked in a sharp breath through her nose.
Remember, it’s all bollocks.
But she didn’t want it to be bollocks. She wanted it to be true, except with that truth came heartache for her.
‘He can be prone to failed relationships and divorce, though,’ Pam added. ‘Because he’s an idealist. But, Cherry, he will accept you unconditionally. He’s generous to a fault, but don’t mistake that for him being a pushover.’ She nodded pointedly at her daughter.
This was already too much. Sean was being painted as some kind of saviour who’d rescue and accept her, even if she didn’t believe in herself, and who she needed to be warned not to take advantage of. Her mum was almost spelling out her daughter’s shortcomings to him.
‘Sounds a lot like my dad, actually.’ Sean held the King of Pentacles card, examining it as if it were a photo of his father. ‘He and my mum were married for nearly thirty-five years, and I’m sure Cherry and I will go the same distance.’ He examined her adoringly. She admired his optimism.
There was so much that could be said, but Pam chose silence.
The final card that Sean had chosen was Death.
‘Now, this doesn’t mean anyone is going to die,’ Pam reassured, touching Cherry’s arm. ‘It’s much more about change. The death of a dream maybe. Letting go and moving onto new pastures. Every end is a new beginning.’
‘Aye, so it is.’ Sean nodded and sent an expression of such warmth Cherry’s way that it broke her heart.
‘As you two go into your marriage together, there will be things you have to leave behind. Not only lands and homes, but ideas about how the future looked before.’ Pam’s expression held such pity that it pierced Cherry with the pain of the past.
There she was again, curled up in the foetal position, a hollowed-out shell, drained of tears.
And every time, her mum on the phone saying, ‘It wasn’t meant to be.
Poker takes its toll. Life has other plans for you,’ and Cherry biting back the saltwater until she could fall back onto the bed and sob herself into oblivion once more.
Pam was way out of line pushing this ‘death of a dream’ thing in front of Sean, but there was no point arguing. As she would say, it wasn’t her telling the story; it was the cards.
Oh, for a game of poker with crisps.
‘Okay, Mum. Thanks for the reading, but I’ll finish the dishes, and then Sean and I might head off.’
‘You’ve not even had coffee and Jaffa Cakes yet.’
‘I know. Another time, eh?’
‘Okay, sweetheart.’ Pam seemed a little downcast, but she disappeared for a few minutes and returned with a folded piece of paper, which she passed to Cherry. ‘I wrote this once but never gave it to you. Perhaps you might like it now.’
Cherry unfolded the paper and read.
A mother is not made by a footprint in the sand.
Love does not begin with a clasping of the hand.
I carried you inside me, your heart beating with mine.
And though I never held you, I’m your mummy for all time.
Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.
Cherry’ searched for something to hold onto.
Anything. A piece of furniture. A cup. Her husband.
In the end, she gripped the paper harder.
Why the hell had her mum given her this now?
Was it meant to be a comfort? Because all it did was throw her right back into the tragedy of the past. Did Pam want her to break down in front of her new husband? Was she trying to test their mettle?
‘The death of a dream. A dream so many women realise, but not you, Cherry. Not you. Still, have a poem to break your heart. I meant well.’
All she could do was stare at the words and try to act normal. Not give anything away to Sean.
Oh, Sean. Beautiful Sean. Her husband to die for. The King of Cups. King of Hearts. She could hold the tears in right now, but beyond these walls, how could she carry on as if nothing had happened? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right.
Sean deserved better than this, and Cherry knew it. She’d seen the vulnerability behind his confidence; he was a man with a heart, with hopes, with dreams. He’d elevated her into the ranks of the most important women in his life. Told her how he saw his future. A house filled with love.
The thing she’d been reminded she might be incapable of offering. That, if he’d known two days ago, may have altered entirely whether he’d proposed or not.
Now she would need to do the closest thing to going back in time and changing the past.
She would have to talk to him and tell him that they’d made a huge mistake.