Chapter 3
Pulling up outside her Cotswold stone thatched cottage, Ellie took her hands from the steering wheel and held them out in front of her.
Taking deep breaths, she willed them to steady.
They say bad things come in threes, and it definitely seemed that way today.
First Melissa and the business, then Murray of all people, and now, by the looks of it, Rick was still in the process of moving out, something he’d had all day to do.
His car was still sitting in its spot in front of the tiny front garden, and it looked as though the sage green front door was propped open.
She glanced towards the small cottage they’d lived in together for five years.
It was the first and only place she’d lived since moving to Meadowfield eight years ago, and when she’d met Rick and they’d begun discussing living together, she’d managed to convince him to move in with her rather than relocating.
With its original features and cosy feel, she loved the cottage, but over the last year the warm feeling had slowly turned to one of unease, and she barely recognised the man who had moved into her home all those years ago.
Taking a box from the boot, she left it open and walked towards the wrought-iron gate.
Leaning down, she flicked open the latch before kicking it open and using the toe of her shoe to flick the rock they used as a gate-stop to keep it in place.
As she walked down the garden path, she glanced around.
The outside light above the front door illuminated the weeds growing through the slabs and encroaching on the flower beds.
She supposed that would be a small positive to having to search for more clients – she might have a little time to spend gardening and tidying the place up.
The previous tenants had been a retired couple whose pride and joy had been the small front garden and the larger garden out the back, which they’d filled with flower beds and pots of colourful flowers and herbs.
She couldn’t imagine what they’d think of the place if they saw it now.
All their hard work and dedication having been swallowed up by dandelions and stinging nettles.
She walked through the open door and stepped into the tiny hallway.
Once inside, she stood frozen to the spot, still hugging the heavy box to her chest, as she took in the sight in front of her.
The hallway, which was barely big enough to fit the shoe rack and coat hooks, was crammed with stuff.
Bin bags, boxes and bundles of clothes, with a pile of bedding teetering on top.
There must have been more than just his clothes and belongings stacked up.
And why was he taking the bedding of all things?
‘Rick?’ She raised her voice, any shred of concern for their neighbours quickly evaporating as she glanced behind her towards his car, which was parked with the boot wide open and from this angle, she could see more boxes and bags stuffed inside. Where was he even going to fit this stuff?
‘I’m leaving.’ Entering the small hallway, Rick pushed past her outside, his arms filled with bags.
‘I know. You told me you were going but…’ Spinning on the spot, she watched as he walked past her and threw another bin bag inside the car. She stepped aside as he strode back inside before grabbing the nearest box and hurrying back outside again.
Placing the box of files she was carrying down, Ellie followed him, her mouth hanging open as she realised it wasn’t just his boot which was crammed full of things from the house; the back seats of the car were too.
Cupping her hands against the glass of the side window, she frowned. ‘Is that the footstool in there?’
‘I’m moving in with Lisa.’ He pushed past her again as he headed back inside.
‘Lisa? Lisa, as in your manager Lisa?’ Standing between the car and the front door, Ellie watched as he hurried back and forth, his large car quickly filling with his belongings.
He’d always got on with Lisa. Had she agreed to put him up for the time being?
Let him sleep on the sofa whilst he looked for a place to rent?
Lisa’s partner, Alex, had never seemed to be the kind of person who would tolerate waifs and strays camping out in his front room, although if Ellie remembered correctly Lisa and Alex lived in one of the large new apartments bordering the river a couple of towns along, so perhaps Rick had snagged himself a stay in one of their spare bedrooms. ‘Why?’
‘Why?’ Pausing as he carried a pile of bin bags past, he frowned. ‘Why do you think?’
‘Because you’ve nowhere else to go? We agreed you’d move out when the tenancy was up.
We agreed I could take it over.’ Her voice sounded weak, and she grimaced at herself.
She had nothing to feel apologetic about.
It had been Rick who had told her she could be the one who stayed at the cottage, so why was he being so defensive now?
‘Something like that.’ He scoffed as he stepped around her.
It was then that it hit her. How had she been so na?ve? So stupid? The tone of his voice, the words he left unsaid.
Walking towards him, she placed her hands on the bag he was trying to squeeze into his car.
She had a feeling she knew what he was about to tell her, but she needed to hear the words from his lips.
She needed him to say it. She needed the confirmation.
‘Rick, stop. We’ve been together for seven years; we’ve been living together for five. Don’t I deserve an explanation?’
Sighing heavily, Rick looked at her, his eyes boring into hers. ‘I’m moving in with Lisa because she cares about me. She treats me right, and she loves me.’
‘I…’ Taking her hands from the bag, she lowered them to her side.
She shouldn’t be surprised. She thought back to his work’s Christmas party two years ago – he hadn’t invited her this past year – and after seeing them together, she’d questioned him, begged him to admit he was having an affair with Lisa.
He hadn’t, and she’d tried to bury the doubts, but that had been the turning point in their own relationship, and it was always Lisa who Ellie wondered about.
But because he’d told her time and time again that no one else was involved in their break-up, she’d blindly believed him.
‘I should have told you. I know that but…’ He shrugged as though she wasn’t worthy of a reason why he’d kept it from her.
‘We’re moving in together. We’ve got a little place in Nettleford.
Like we agreed, you can continue living here.
’ He jerked his head towards the cottage before closing the car door and making his way around to the driver’s side.
After pulling the door open, he glanced back at her.
‘I’ll collect the other things another time. ’
As she watched him pull away and speed down the road, she sighed. She should be feeling upset, sad, angry even, but the only thing she felt about this particular situation was relief.
It was running into Murray that had her stomach in knots.
Walking slowly back into the cottage, Ellie glanced down at the remaining heap of bags and boxes still in the hallway. She hadn’t even realised Rick had so much stuff.
Picking up her own box of files, she pushed the door to the living room open with her foot and froze.
The living room, though small, had always been her favourite place in the cottage.
The wood burner with its oak mantelpiece above, the two tall lamps which cast a warm glow across the fluffy cream rug, the large television Rick had insisted they needed and the side tables they’d stumbled upon at a flea market in Venice, it all went together so well.
And now it was all gone. The television, the lamps, the side tables, even the Alexa they’d kept on the television stand, everything besides the tiny corner sofa which she’d had since moving in, and provided that squishy level of comfort that only a worn sofa could offer, the one thing he’d hated and had been trying to get Ellie to part with for the last seven years. That was still there.
Dropping the box to the floor beneath the window, she turned slowly, taking in the room once more. Yep, she hadn’t been seeing things. Everything was gone. He’d taken everything apart from the sofa. The gaping space opposite the sofa where the TV usually sat mocked her.
Hurrying back outside again, she looked down the street in the direction he had left.
Nope, there was no sign of him. Rick was long gone, the contents of their home packed into his Peugeot estate.
He must have hired a van for the bigger items. Heck, he must have been packing and shipping items all day, as when she’d left for work this morning all he’d had packed was a sports bag and the battered suitcase they’d taken on holiday to Portugal five years ago. The first holiday abroad they’d shared.
With her mind whirring, thoughts of Rick’s departure and the state he’d left the cottage in colliding with the flood of emotions her short interaction with Murray had unleashed, Ellie forced herself to empty her car boot.
As she carried box after box inside, she stacked them in the place of the missing television, all the time trying, and failing, to focus on her task of putting one foot in front of the other.
On more than one occasion, she was forced to pause, lean against the door frame, wall or car and press her forefingers against her temples in an attempt to ease the pounding headache which had formed.
When the boot was finally empty, Ellie made her way upstairs and stood in the doorway of the small room they called the master bedroom.
Blinking, she surveyed the room. It was empty too.
The bed, the chest of drawers, the small wardrobe they’d managed to squeeze against the outside wall beside the window. Rick had taken it all.
She gripped the door frame. The bed! He’d even taken the bed!
Everything! Everything she’d chosen, bought, even the bedside tables she’d rescued from outside someone’s house as they’d waited to be taken to the dump and lovingly restored.
Everything she’d filled the cottage with even before Rick had entered her life – it was all gone.
She was left with nothing. No furniture besides the old sofa.
Nothing. Why? What had possessed him to do this?
It didn’t make any sense. Surely his fancy piece, Lisa…
Ellie closed her eyes as she pictured Rick with her, with his boss, the woman who had swanned around that Christmas party as though she owned the place. Which, to be fair, she had, but still…
Ellie opened her eyes, the empty space of the bedroom in front of her. Surely Lisa wouldn’t want to sleep in her and Rick’s bed? The bed she’d bought when she’d first moved into the cottage? None of it made any sense.
And then it hit her. He’d organised this.
This wasn’t some impromptu, spur-of-the-moment decision.
Rick had intended to take their things. To leave her with nothing.
He’d packed his sports bag full of clothes as a decoy, the suitcase too, he’d hired a removals van, and then he’d used the opportunity when she was out of the cottage at work to clear her out.
But why? Why would he do something like this?
Yes, their relationship was over, and things had been strained, for a long time now, to put it mildly, but still…
why had he chosen to do this? To completely gut the cottage?
They both needed to live, they both needed furniture, kitchen paraphernalia, everything, but he shouldn’t have taken it.
Not all of it. This wasn’t fair, this was playing damn right nasty.
He was being spiteful regardless of the fact the break-up had been mutual.
She walked across to a ramshackle heap of her clothes left in the middle of the room. He’d dumped them there, without a care.
Or had he? What if she’d come to help too? Lisa. What if Rick’s mistress had been in their home, rooted through their stuff, pulled out what she wanted or what she thought they’d need for their new life together, and left Ellie with the dregs, the unwanted pieces?
Sinking to the floor, she picked up a blue jumper of hers and folded it. She knew she should be upset, she should be crying over his betrayal, their split, but she just didn’t have the tears for it. The last year of their relationship had left her without any emotion at all. She just felt numb.
She grabbed a T-shirt from the pile and shook it out, the creases sticking stubbornly. She’d have to iron it again. Iron most of her clothes again.
Curling up beside the heap, she held the T-shirt to her chest and closed her eyes.
She should be trying to ring Rick, demand that he return the furniture, the TV, the stuff he’d taken.
She should be spending the evening looking through the notes she had about the Pennycress wedding before her meeting tomorrow.
At the very least, she should be showering off the emotional baggage today had thrown at her before making up a bed on the sofa.
That was if Rick and Lisa had left her a towel to use and spared the extra bedding they kept in the airing cupboard.
But all she could do was think about her encounter with Murray and what had brought him to Meadowfield.
And what that might mean for her future here.
One thing she was certain about – the only thing she was certain about at this moment in time – was that she couldn’t continue living in the village if it meant she’d be worrying about running into him around every corner.
Earlier, the prospect of running into him in the village had filled her with excitement, a sense of longing, but now, after all this and having had some time to begin to process the memories Murray’s presence had brought to the surface, she wished she’d never laid eyes on Murray again.
She wasn’t strong enough, not to see him time and time again knowing what they’d had and lost. After the year she’d had, her heart just couldn’t take it.