Chapter 21
HELENA FELT COMPLETELY numb as she viewed the tiny spare room in a run-down, smelly flat on the edge of a depressingly bleak, rural town.
She felt nothing but apathy as she agreed to the terms – there was no paperwork, just a verbal agreement.
No wonder it was so cheap. She resigned herself to this new home, too exhausted and emotionally fatigued to care, knowing only that she needed a place to live, that she had nowhere else to go.
Slowly, she packed up the house, beside herself with tears.
Unable to take everything with her, she was forced to decide which of Raffy and Noah’s possessions to keep, still stoking the tiny, sputtering flame of hope alive deep inside her that they might come back to her.
The teddy she had bought him that he loved so much.
She knew just how much he would be missing it.
Noah’s favourite jumper, left behind in the rush to pack and escape her.
Her heart twisted with grief as she drove bin liners of possessions to the charity shop.
She avoided making eye contact with the kind lady who worked there.
She couldn’t believe how much her life had changed since she’d brought Margery’s stuff in a few months before.
Mr Collins came around to collect the keys and inspect the property. She hadn’t bothered cleaning, more than happy for Noah’s deposit to pay.
Unable to leave without saying goodbye to Margery, Helena called in on her final trip out of Hambleton.
‘Helena!’ Margery sang as she threw open the door, allowing light to flood her still-sparkling hallway. ‘I’ve been wondering where you’ve been hiding! Have you been away?’
Helena had planned to say a dignified goodbye, with a speech she had carefully prepared, but she took one look at her beloved neighbour and burst into tears.
‘What’s happened?’ Margery asked, shocked. ‘What is it, dear? Are you ill, you don’t look yourself at all…’ She wrapped her arms around her, pulling Helena close and patting her softly on the back. Helena crumpled into Margery’s embrace, unable to stop the tears that coursed down her cheeks.
When she finally regained a modicum of composure, Margery ushered her into the kitchen and sat her down with a cup of tea.
‘There, there,’ she passed her a tissue box. ‘Tell me all about it…’
Helena was grateful that Johnny was out, not wishing him to see her in such a state.
She sobbed her way through the whole sorry tale, the truth of her relationship with Noah, the panic in realising he had left her, her failure to track them down, her calls to the police begging for help, the injustice of it all.
She knew Margery would understand how much she missed them both, especially Raffy.
Fighting not to lose control completely, she explained how the tenancy agreement had come to an end and how she was being forced to move to a new room in a new town.
Margery was stunned. ‘That utter bastard. You poor thing… I can’t believe he just left you like that.’ She shook her head, as if trying to wrap her brain around everything she had just heard. ‘So… this new place, you’re on your way there now?’
Helena nodded.
‘Would you like some company?’ Margery took her hand. ‘We could go together if you like?’
‘That’s very kind,’ Helena smiled. ‘But I’ll be okay.’
‘Are you sure? After everything you have done for me, it’s the least I can do.’
‘No, really. I’ll be fine.’ Helena was lying but she couldn’t bear Margery seeing her tiny room, how depressing it all was.
‘You will be alright, my dear,’ Margery said, giving her hand a tight squeeze.
‘I promise you that. Right now, I know everything seems catastrophic. But, with time, you will be alright. I remember not being able to imagine a way forward after Jeremy died. But I found a way, and so will you. You need to be strong; you will start climbing your way out of this mess before you know it. And one day, there will be someone else, I am sure. Someone better. Someone kind. Someone who treats you the way you deserve to be treated.’
‘I can’t imagine there ever being anyone else.’
‘I’m sure.’ Margery smiled. ‘But there will be…’
Helena nodded. She sniffed and blew her nose on one of Margery’s tissues, reluctant to leave the cosy haven of her kitchen.
Unsteadily, she pulled herself up to her feet.
‘Right, I had better get going.’ She attempted a wobbly smile.
‘Do you have a telephone number for your new place?’ Margery asked.
‘I doubt there’s a landline. But you’ve got my mobile number, haven’t you?’
‘Let me see.’ Margery located her address book, a battered floral Filofax, and flicked through the pages. ‘Here, let me write it down now.’ She found a pen and wrote down the number as Helena dictated it. ‘And what’s the address?’
Helena gave it to her.
‘And you have my number?’ Margery asked. Helena nodded.
Margery looked so concerned it almost set Helena off again. She forced a smile in a bid to stop her friend from worrying. ‘I’ll be okay,’ she said as Margery pulled her once more into a warm embrace.
‘Are you sure? You know you are always welcome here, any time of day, or night for that matter. We have the box room, now finally box-free thanks to you – the futon would make a good bed.’
‘That’s very kind of you Margery, but you don’t need to worry, I’ll be fine. I’ll come and see you soon.’
Margery opened the front door. ‘Do you promise?’
‘I promise.’
‘And you’ll call if there’s anything I can do?’
‘I will.’
‘I’m going to miss having you next door.’
‘Me too,’ Helena said, fighting back tears.
Determined not to look back, knowing she would never be able to leave if she did, she pulled out onto the lane.
She felt overwhelmed with sorrow and resentment at the thought of there soon being someone else in her bed, sitting on her sofa, cooking in her kitchen and eating meals at her table, while she had been left with nothing.
As she drove through the village, she felt consumed with loneliness.
She tried to make herself feel better by imagining all the millions of people who lived alone having the same thoughts as her, making their way home to yet another evening spent by themselves.
Even though some of them undoubtedly enjoyed the solitude, she imagined most people longed for companionship, just as she did.
She couldn’t be the only person left miserable and alone after a break-up.
She couldn’t be the only victim of broken, fractured communities that no longer knew, or cared, who you were.
As she drove out of the village, she let the tears fall, knowing she had left her heart behind in Hambleton.