Chapter 3
The following morning, Beth woke with a head that was throbbing from an excess of wine and sorrow. She had spent the evening hoping to hear Matthew’s key in the door. Surely he would come home and talk to her. Even if he admitted that something had happened with Laura, if he just told Beth he still loved her, they could work things out.
But there had been no sign of him and Beth had rested her head on his pillow, breathing in his lingering scent as she spent the night alone. At least she hadn't needed to wait for her turn for the bathroom, she thought sadly as she stood in the shower, letting the hot water mingle with her tears.
Not able to face breakfast, Beth stood in the kitchen with a cold cup of coffee in front of her, staring at her phone. They would have to speak at some point, no matter how uncomfortable it might be for both of them. Beth deserved an explanation, an account of what was happening. Maybe even an apology. Anything but this awful silence.
She contemplated calling in sick, unable to face an office of sympathetic looks and the possibility of seeing Matthew walking along the corridor, or making a cup of tea in the kitchen. And what was she supposed to do if Laura stopped by her desk, as Laura often did, with a task to be completed? How was Beth supposed to look her in the eye and promise to have it done as quickly as possible without hurling a pen pot in her direction or hitting her over the head with her mouse mat?
But they were already short-staffed, too busy for Beth to call in with a broken heart and so after several minutes of standing aimlessly in the kitchen, she picked up her bag and slammed the door behind her, her heart quite literally hammering in her chest.
‘I wasn’t sure you’d be in today!’ exclaimed a sympathetic Sally, wincing as she took in her friend’s red eyes and pale face. She pushed Beth gently into her seat, taking her bag and stowing it beneath her desk. ‘I was going to bring some pizza round tonight. I know you wanted to be alone last night but you need to get it off your chest. I’ll bring some wine as well. And ice cream. Can’t get through a break-up without ice cream. And some straw.’
‘I decided I was better keeping busy – straw? Did you say straw?’
‘Yes! I’ve seen something, not sure where but I can remember most of the details,’ said Sally enthusiastically. ‘We make a Matthew doll out of straw and dress it in some of his clothes. Scraps of clothes obviously, we’re not making a life-size Matthew, I don’t think I could bring over that much straw.’ Sally stopped, wrinkling her nose thoughtfully. ‘Although maybe a full-size figure would work better, she said before frowning. ‘But we couldn’t really do that in your flat, it might be a problem when we start the fire…’
‘Fire!’
‘Maybe we’re better sticking to a doll. Anyway, we make a Matthew shape, wrap it in an old shirt or a pair of pants and then you put it in a box or something, say goodbye and good riddance and put it somewhere out of sight. It’s supposed to make it easier to get over a lost love, spiritually at least. But I thought it would be even better if we burn it! No chance of accidentally opening the box and letting him leap back into your life. We can set it on fire and then scatter the ashes somewhere.’
Beth wondered if she should have stayed at home after all.
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ she began tactfully. ‘I’m sure there’s something in my lease about no bonfires in the flat.’
‘Well, I suppose we could stick to using a box or a tin then. You’ll just have to remember where you put him.’
Beth thought about picking up a biscuit tin in a few months, only to find a straw Matthew inside.
‘Perhaps I just don’t speak to him again?’ she suggested. ‘That seems to work for everyone else.’
Sally looked disappointed. ‘The problem is,’ she said shaking her head, ‘you are a pushover where Matthew is concerned.’
‘I am not! I…’
‘Yes, you are! You’ve let him have his own way throughout your entire relationship. You just smile and give in. And you can’t let him get away with this one, Beth honey. You need to make sure he knows this is unforgivable. No letting him tell you it was a mistake or a misunderstanding.’
Beth frowned, opening her mouth to argue but Sally’s phone started to ring and she skipped back to her desk to answer it, and cancel her Amazon order for a large packet of barley straw.
It wasn’t that she always gave in to Matthew, thought Beth, turning her monitor on and opening her emails. But she didn’t see the point in arguments and confrontation when it wasn’t needed. Okay, it did mean that they usually did what Matthew wanted. Such as going to Lanzarote instead of Welby-on-the-Sea. And they talked about Matthew’s career a great deal, instead of talking about Beth’s, which Matthew had once fondly said wasn’t really a career at all. But he hadn’t meant to be hurtful and he’d kissed her even as he was saying it, so Beth didn’t see the need to take him to task for it.
And he refused to visit Beth’s parents for Sunday lunch more than once every 6 months. But Beth couldn’t blame him because her mother had a tendency to giggle and make unsubtle comments about what a lovely couple they made.
They always watched what he wanted on TV, but Beth enjoyed the same programmes so why argue? Well, most of the same programmes. Okay, some of the same programmes, and she wasn’t a fan of spending an entire Sunday watching cricket. But it meant a lot to Matthew so becoming churlish about wanting to go for a romantic picnic in the park, instead of watching a lot of men in white jumpers, seemed unnecessary.
The thing that Sally had never really understood, was that Beth was happy simply being in Matthew’s company. Spending Saturday nights with his friends who harped on endlessly about their university days and the state of architectural services in Britain, was frankly boring at times. But when they walked home, Matthew would wrap his arm around her and tell her how lucky he was to have met someone as interested in the same things he was.
Whereas whenever they went out with Sally or any of Beth’s friends, he invariably sat looking disinterested in conversations about the Kardashians or Prince Harry’s latest gaffe. And Beth was sure that he didn’t hold onto her quite as tightly as they walked home, or kiss her quite as enthusiastically.
But none of that meant she was a doormat or that she always gave in to him. It meant that she loved him, that she wanted him to be happy and her entire existence was about him. She stopped scrolling. Actually, now she came to think about it, maybe she had been a bit of a pushover. Had she lost herself a little in her devotion to Matthew?
‘So, has he been in touch at all?’ asked Sally, back from her phone call.
‘No. Not yet.’
Sally snorted. ‘Typical! Break your heart then hide from the fallout!’
Beth frowned, a sliver of irritation swamping her grief for the first time. It was a bit much that Matthew hadn’t made any attempt to contact her. Not so much as a text. He hadn’t even technically broken up with Beth, Laura had taken on that job as Matthew had sat flustered and silent at his desk.
She had a discreet peep at her phone to make sure she hadn’t accidentally turned it off. He should have phoned, if only to see if she was okay. They had been together for three years, didn't she deserve a little of his concern?
‘I did get a letter from a solicitor,’ she said, changing the subject to something slightly less harrowing. ‘I’ve inherited my Aunt Lizzie’s beach hut.’
‘What, like an actual hut on the beach?’
Beth almost smiled. ‘Yes, an actual hut. On the beach.’
‘Wow! Where is it?’
‘Welby-on-the-Sea.’
‘Never heard of it. But how cool! We could take our holidays there, hang out in your beach hut and talent spot.’
Now Beth did smile. ‘I think you’d be disappointed. Welby isn’t that sort of a place. It’s very small. And quiet. And peaceful.’ A dreamy look came into her eye as she thought back to summers long gone. ‘I used to go there every year for the entire school holiday. I couldn’t wait to get there and I was devastated when it was time to go home.’
‘Why did you stop visiting?’ asked Sally curiously. ‘Sounds like heaven!’
A gusty sigh drifted between them. ‘I don’t know,’ said Beth sadly. ‘I suppose I thought I was too grown up to spend holidays with my aunt. In a hut. In Welby-on-the-Sea.’
‘Well, you can go back now. You have your very own beach hut so you can visit whenever you want. It might do you good to get away.’
Beth imagined a week in Welby. She could sit in the hut and listen to the waves and feel the sun on her face. She would take a walk and let the soft golden sand squish between her toes and watch the seagulls sweep lazily across the harbour. She would be surrounded by peace and tranquillity, a world away from Matthew.
‘Maybe,’ she agreed half-heartedly. Because if she was too far away from Matthew, how could they sit down and talk about what was happening?
‘Forget him,’ suggested Sally, her sharp eyes taking in Beth’s expression. ‘Move on. He has.’
Beth flinched. ‘I know but…’
‘You are far too accommodating where he’s concerned and he’s always taken advantage of you.’
‘We were in love. There has to be some compromise when two people…’
‘Exactly! When two people are in love they both compromise. I never saw Matthew bothering. And now he’s cheated on you, time to say goodbye,’ insisted Sally heatedly. ‘Don’t let him talk his way out of this one!’
Chance would be a fine thing, thought Beth. Talking was something Matthew seemed to be actively avoiding, at least with Beth.
‘I just need to hear him say it’s over,’ she said, mutinously, as Sally sighed and shook her head in despair. ‘Laura said they were in love and I sort of ran out of the room. He didn’t say anything.’
There had been no sort of about it, Beth had given a loud wail and fled the scene, almost mowing down an anxious Shirley who had been hovering outside Matthew’s office wondering whether to call security or not.
‘You caught him red-handed with someone else! I don’t think there’s a lot left to say.’ Sally patted Beth’s arm to take away some of the sting. ‘Throw his clothes onto the street and put itching powder in his underwear, but stop looking for a reason why he’s behaved so badly and do not even think about forgiving him,’ and with a severe stare, she went back to her desk.
Beth put her head down, hoping the stream of unanswered emails would take her mind away from the acute pain in her heart, but found instead that she spent a lot of time staring at her computer screen in a daze as she fended off unbidden memories of Matthew. Matthew in their kitchen. Matthew on their settee. Matthew in their bed.
Giving up on her emails, she decided a hefty dose of caffeine might be needed and looking up from her desk, she was just in time to see the back of Matthew’s head as it disappeared into the kitchen at the end of the corridor. Her heart gave a jolt and she couldn’t help but gasp sharply.
Should she follow him? Was this her opportunity to speak to him? To ask if somehow Beth had misunderstood everything about the previous day, the writhing, the moaning and the declaration of love. Should she ignore everything Sally had said, leave the itching powder for another day and ask Matthew to sit down and talk to her?
Looking around to see if anyone was watching, particularly Sally, Beth stood up and walked briskly to the kitchen, finding Matthew waiting for his latte macchiato to finish filling his cup, the one she had bought him last Christmas. The one he said he loved.
‘Hello Matthew,’ she said, her mouth suddenly dry and her voice hoarse.
He jumped, almost dropping his phone and looked around nervously, as though to check whether she had brought reinforcements.
‘Oh, er…Beth,’ he stuttered. ‘I…er…hello.’
There was a pained silence broken only by the coffee machine making its final high-pitched gurgle and spitting out the last of its foamy milk. Dropping his eyes, Matthew grabbed his coffee and started shuffling sideways, trying to bypass Beth and make for the door, his eyes gazing deeply into his cup rather than meeting her gaze.
Was he actually going to leave without saying anything more?
‘I think we need to talk, don’t you?’ Beth asked, holding out a hand to halt his progress. ‘I thought you might have phoned last night.’
‘Right. Did you? I…er…I suppose I thought you wouldn’t want to talk to me,’ he said hopefully. ‘I thought it might be better to just give it some time and then… you know.’
Beth didn’t know. But she suspected Matthew didn’t want the inconvenience of a discussion about his infidelity. Or Beth’s broken heart. She dropped her hand wondering if it would be for the best if they just left it for a while, only to prickle as she remembered Sally’s accusation, that Beth always let Matthew call the shots.
‘Actually, I think we should talk now,’ she said firmly, watching the surprise chase across Matthew’s face.
‘Right. Are you sure because I don’t think…’
‘I’m sure.’
‘Okay. Right then. Well, if you really want to talk here,’ he said, looking a little green around the gills at the prospect, ‘then I suppose we can. But we need to keep this as calm as possible, don’t you agree? I mean, while we’re here, in the office. We don’t want things getting out of hand.’
She had found him with another woman, that was about as far out of hand as Beth could imagine things becoming.
‘I think it’s better if this stays under the radar,’ he said, with an attempt at a reassuring smile. ‘We don’t want everybody else getting involved and making life difficult for us…I mean you.’
Beth wondered if he could possibly believe that the entire office didn’t already know what had happened between them. It was probably the subject of every inter-department email and the main subject of gossip in every corridor and office of Stretch Your Horizons.
‘I know you won’t want to cause a fuss,’ he continued cajolingly. ‘I think we need to keep it between us, keep everything… well… professional at work. No drama.’
Because as Matthew knew full well, Beth wasn’t the sort to cause a fuss. She certainly wasn’t the sort to enjoy being the centre of attention. She didn’t want to make waves or gossip and she always wanted what was best for Matthew. As Sally had been at pains to point out to Beth earlier.
‘Are you asking me to keep quiet about the fact that you are having an affair with the owner’s daughter?’ asked Beth with a frown.
Matthew glanced nervously towards the open door of the kitchen.
‘I wouldn’t put it quite like that but…’
‘That’s what it sounded like. I thought you might want to apologise to me, explain what had happened.’
‘Er, I can explain if it helps…’
‘But what you want is for me not to make a fuss about finding you with someone else.’
‘Please keep your voice down, Beth! That’s why I don't think we should…’
‘You want me to be polite and considerate and not tell anyone what’s happened,’ accused Beth her voice rising. Her hands were shaking and she clasped her fingers tightly together. She had expected regret. Sorrow at hurting her. Some abject grovelling at how badly he had behaved. Anything but this. An instruction to hold it together so she didn’t embarrass him at the office.
‘You see, this is exactly why I didn’t think we should have this discussion here,’ complained Matthew, sending her a pained look. ‘I can see you’re upset but…’
‘Upset?’ repeated Beth, shaking her head. ‘UPSET!’
‘Please! I need you to be calm and…’
‘Except that what you want from me doesn’t count any more,’ snapped Beth. ‘We’re over, remember?’
She glared at him crossly. Did he really think he could ask her to keep a check on her frazzled emotions so he wouldn’t be too embarrassed by office gossip?
‘Are you even sorry?’ she asked, her eyes blazing,
anger driving her forward. ‘Do you care at all how I feel, how I felt finding you and Laura together?’
‘Oh Beth,’ beseeched Matthew. ‘Please don’t. I told Laura that I was sure you would be professional about this and not…’
‘You told her what?’ shrieked Beth, causing Matthew to moan softly and send a distressed look towards the corridor, where Beth suspected several interested colleagues were now gathering to hear the latest gossip.
Did he think she would behave so spinelessly? Although now she came to think about it, why wouldn’t he? She hadn’t stood up to him once during their entire relationship. If she’d insisted on going to Welby to visit Aunt Lizzie, she wouldn’t be feeling so desolate right now at how little time she had spent with her aunt over the last few years.
‘What exactly did you tell Laura?’ demanded Beth. ‘That I would cry quietly somewhere no one could see me and leave you to get on with it? That I was a pushover and wouldn’t make a fuss?’
‘Beth! This isn’t like you! You don’t normally…’
‘I don’t normally what? Embarrass you? Challenge you? Tell you what a shit you are?’ roared Beth, having to shout over the anger booming inside her.
‘Really,’ he gasped. ‘You need to calm down…’
‘Stop telling me to calm down! I will not calm down and you are a…a…’
Beth cast around wildly for something to say, something to do, and her eyes fell on the display of flowers on the table. It was one of Laura’s initiatives. Fresh flowers for a fresh soul or something equally ridiculous and in a rage, Beth grabbed the vase.
‘You are a lying, cheating, disgusting…waste of space,’ she shouted and before she changed her mind, she tipped the vase over Matthew’s head, watching his astonished expression as the water poured down his cheeks and several errant sprays of carnations arranged themselves across his shoulders.