Chapter 18
A good traveller has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving.
LAO TZU
The thing about travelling is when you start out, it’s all about the journey: the booking of tickets, the gathering of what you need to take with you, then showing up at the right time. The boarding of trains and flights – fog permitting, that is – as you navigate your way to your destination.
So far, that’s what I’d been doing. My mind had been preoccupied with the getting here – but now that I was here, however, it was a whole other matter.
What did I do with my days? I mean, Chania was lovely and Andreas and his wife were charming.
Nothing was too much trouble for them. But I wasn’t used to all this uncluttered time; all those empty hours when it was just me and my thoughts.
Troublesome, uncomfortable ones I’d rather not have to think about.
‘Perhaps you need a purpose, Tilly,’ Nicos said one night over a cup of coffee at his restaurant as dusk was falling.
Which wasn’t entirely helpful. ‘I’m trying to teach myself the opposite.
’ I tried to explain. ‘You see, I used to have many purposes,’ I told him.
‘In fact, you wouldn’t believe how many.
’ I started telling him my life story – or at least, a selectively edited version of it.
You know, the devastating part about Lizzie dying; the sad bits about Gareth and Olivia, then Gareth selling the house.
The thought brought me up short. ‘He isn’t going to be happy with me,’ I said to Nico.
‘He wanted me to call him. He wants to talk about an offer we’ve had. ’
‘Do not feel guilty,’ Nicos said solemnly. ‘He cheated on you. He deserves nothing.’
It was all very well Nicos saying that. And in a sense, he was right. But the house was always going to tie me to the past. ‘We have to sell it sometime. And he wants his share of the money so that he can buy another house.’
Nicos frowned. ‘Where is he living now?’
I shrugged. ‘At his girlfriend’s, I guess. I don’t know where that is.’
‘So he is not homeless.’ Nicos sat back. ‘This man is trying to make you do something you are not ready for. Do not let him bully you.’
I stared at him, slightly shocked. ‘Do you know what, Nicos? You’re right.’ If not exactly bullying, Gareth was definitely putting the pressure on. A sigh came from me. Why had it taken someone else to point that out to me? ‘What do you think I should do?’
‘I think you should not hurry, Tilly. If it is this year or next year, it isn’t important. Not really.’
I stared at him. Then the cogs of my brain started turning as something fell into place. ‘It isn’t, is it?’ Again, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it, but it was only Gareth who was driving this. In the context of life-or-death terms, there really was no hurry for any of it.
Later that evening, however, when I did call him to tell him what I thought, Gareth had his own, very strong and uncompromising reasons on why we needed to sell the house, not just soon but immediately.
‘It means we’ll both know where we stand, financially.
We can draw a line.’ He paused. ‘I think you need closure, Tilly.’
I felt myself bristle. Since when had he cared so much about what I needed?
And after shacking up with Olivia, Gareth had well and truly relinquished the right to have an opinion about my life.
‘I do not need closure as you put it,’ I said furiously.
‘For your information, I’m having a great time, Gareth.
Our marriage is over, I realise that. And I’ve never been happier.
But I see no reason to accept the first offer that comes along, especially when the house hasn’t even been marketed properly. ’
He was silent for a moment. ‘It isn’t that simple,’ he muttered.
My ears pricked up. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Never mind.’ He sounded like a sulky little boy.
‘Look, I suggest you ask the agent to put the house on the market. Let’s see what happens.
If no one’s interested, then we can consider this offer again.
’ But the thing was, I knew Gareth. I’d known him for far too long.
My suspicions were growing that there was something he wasn’t saying – to the point I would have bet money on it.
Frowning, I felt the cogs in my mind whirring again.
‘Did you say it was a friend of the agent who wants to buy our house?’
‘Not exactly.’ He sounded uncomfortable.
I started to get irritated. ‘Why can’t you just be straight with me?’
‘Maybe because I know you won’t like it,’ he said.
Done with walking on eggshells, I cut to the chase. ‘What’s going on, Gareth?’
He was silent for a moment. ‘OK. So it’s me who wants to buy the house. Well, me and…’
Before he could say Olivia, I exploded. ‘You actually thought you could cheat me out of the full value of the house, to buy it at a bargain price so that you can move in there with her?’ Angry didn’t begin to describe how I was feeling.
I was incandescent. ‘Even putting the money part of this aside, what about the boys? Have you even begun to think how weird it would be for them to have their father living in the family home, the house they grew up in – with someone else?’
‘It was Olivia’s idea,’ he said. ‘And there’s no need to throw your toys out of the pram. It’s a practical solution that works for all of us.’
‘Except me,’ I flashed. Toys out of the pram indeed.
He really was unbelievable. I thought of all the names under the sun I wanted to call him, just about managing to hold them inside.
‘About the boys… Why don’t you ask them their opinion on the fact that by buying the house at a bargain price, you’re doing their mother out of…
what are we talking about… several tens of thousands? ’
‘I’d make it up to you,’ he said miserably.
‘When would you plan to do that?’ I asked. ‘After the baby arrives, with all the extra expenses that come with that? Or after Olivia’s had a new kitchen put in – which believe me, she will want to, even though ours is new, just as she’ll want to rip the bathrooms out.’
‘Olivia’s an interior designer,’ he said. ‘We’ll get the work done at a fraction of the usual cost. In fact, we should make a—’ He stopped suddenly.
But he’d given himself away. Several steps ahead of me, he’d already thought it all through. I felt my blood chill. ‘Do go on,’ I said icily.
‘That was it. There isn’t anything else to say.’
But he was lying. I could tell. ‘I think I know what you were about to say, Gareth. You were going to tell me that you and Olivia should make a killing – on selling our family home once you’ve done it up.
Of course, you didn’t want me to know you’re planning to screw me over – for the second time.
’ I paused, gathering myself. ‘There’s one thing I would like to say.
And that is, I never want to speak to you, ever again. Do I make myself clear?’
Without waiting for a reply, I ended the call and switched my phone off, still fuming. Then I opened the door onto my own little balcony and stepped outside.
The air was cool and as I gulped deep breaths of it, I felt my heart rate start to slow.
Then I chastised myself. It wasn’t so long ago I was feeling sorry for Gareth.
When he clearly cared so little for me, how ridiculous was that?
And what about Olivia? If I were in her shoes, I wouldn’t want to move into my lover’s family home.
Maybe I should call Gareth back. Tell him it’s a good idea, after all.
Let her find out the hard way; surround herself with memories of our family that will be like ghosts.
To listen to Rick banging on when he calls in for tea and sympathy.
To explain to the boys why this is such a good idea, even though it may not seem like that.
But I already knew that women like Olivia didn’t care about any of those things.
As for Gareth… The further away I got, the more I realised my husband wasn’t the man I wanted to believe he was.
Or maybe he never was. In my desire for us to be a happy family, I’d gone through most of our marriage with my eyes closed.
Soothed by the quiet, I was calmer as I heard the back door of the guesthouse open and close. Then Andreas’s voice came through the darkness.
‘Tilly? Are you all right?’ he called up. ‘I thought I heard voices.’
‘I’m fine, Andreas. I was talking to my ex-husband. But it’s over now. We’re done.’
‘I am sorry,’ he said in a sad voice.
‘Don’t be.’ I paused. ‘He isn’t a nice man. And I’m fine. In fact, I’m better than fine. Goodnight, Andreas. I’m sorry if I disturbed you.’
‘Goodnight, Tilly.’
I listen to the door close again. Then, leaning against the balcony, I close my eyes.
The end of a marriage was always sad. But so was someone who’d lost herself, in the passing of time.
And I was not going to be that person – not any more, at least. As I stood on that balcony in that beautiful place, suddenly I was done with feeling sorry for myself.
From now on, I was taking control of my life.
Elena, Tallulah, Mum, Lizzie, all of them were right. This was my life.
I frown for a moment. When I looked back, there had been so many signs over the years.
Gareth’s reluctance to become a father; his refusal to accept my pregnancy; his inability to even deal with my morning sickness – Gareth’s never been good with vomit.
Not mine, not even the boys. His answer to such things was to make himself scarce, which in those days meant going to the pub.
But there’s no point in dwelling on those days any more. Much though I wish things could have been different, they’ve gone.
I imagine them carried out to sea in one of the little boats in the harbour, leaving them where they’re meant to be, where they can no longer hurt me.
In the past.
* * *