Chapter 19
MARGOT
Margot had barely slept. She’d been too preoccupied wondering why Perry hadn’t been in touch.
And now she was on her way to an appointment with a solicitor.
She’d found details of a few but hadn’t done anything with them since and the longer the silence from Perry went on the more uneasy she felt.
It had been three weeks since she left and she had no idea what her husband was thinking now or what he might be planning.
At the solicitor’s office she just had enough time for a quick WhatsApp exchange with Faye to check up on her – she was fine and resting at her dad’s – before she was called in.
She had a free thirty-minute consultation and she needed to get as much advice as possible in that time because once it went to an hourly rate it was going to eat into her money.
Margot left the solicitor’s with her head swimming.
They’d covered the basic process of what filing for divorce would look like, discussing everything from pre-marital assets, current assets, pensions, property, and all the nuances around each of those things.
She had a headache when she ventured outside to the street and into gloomy rain that made her feel worse.
The only bright thing was that the boys were grown up now, which did make part of the divorce process a little easier.
Margot arrived at Bonnie’s before Faye. Bonnie answered the door quicker than she had done previously but she still seemed a little cautious.
‘It’s not a very nice day out there,’ said Margot, peeling off her coat and allowing Bonnie to take it and hang it on the coat stand.
‘I can tell.’ She looked at the drips on the garment. ‘I pulled this coat stand out especially for this purpose. It sits in my spare room a lot of the time but come the winter months it’ll be by the door for wet things.’
‘I quite enjoy the rain,’ Margot admitted and her casual claim had Bonnie looking at her differently.
‘Howard always did too. Oh, he was a pain making me go out in it.’
‘Would he at least let you have an umbrella and wellies?’
Bonnie chortled. ‘I wouldn’t have gone out without the proper attire. You know the day we met it was raining.’
‘I bet he held an umbrella over you.’
Bonnie’s cheeks flushed with warmth. ‘As a matter of fact, he did.’
They sat and talked over a mug of tea about the day Bonnie and Howard had met in Blackpool and Bonnie told Margot about the painting of the ice-cream van and the story behind it.
Unsurprisingly, Bonnie asked how Margot had met Perry and Margot recapped the happy early days, how head over heels she’d been with him.
Bonnie didn’t know that Margot had walked out on her marriage and right now Margot didn’t want to share the other side of Perry, the side she’d wanted to get away from, the side that was the only one she’d been seeing for a long time.
She changed the subject. ‘Howard told us all at book club that you didn’t like to read.’
‘Well, I don’t suppose he thought we’d ever meet, let alone have a cup of tea together.’ They both smiled at that. ‘I never got into it, no.’
‘And those?’ Margot spotted the books on grief piled on top of the coffee table. ‘Are they as bad as they look?’
She laughed. ‘Worse. I bought them and haven’t bothered reading any at all.’
‘I could be a pain and say that it isn’t that you don’t like books, it’s that you haven’t found the right one.’
‘Howard told me that often enough.’
‘I’m sorry. I’m overstepping.’
But Bonnie shook her head. ‘Not at all. It’s nice to have you here.’
‘Shame Faye had to fall off her bike to get you to let us in,’ Margot said with a grin as a knock at the door announced their third companion had arrived and Bonnie went off to answer it.
When Bonnie came back into the room Margot was standing beside the easel. The same photograph of the view from the hill taking in the bookshop and Lulworth Cove beyond was there but the canvas hadn’t changed since Margot had seen it yesterday.
‘This will be beautiful once it’s finished,’ said Margot.
‘Howard’s bookshop,’ she added, hoping she wasn’t overstepping the mark by continuously mentioning the bookshop.
They needed to be subtle but having spoken with Faye and Iris again they had all agreed that if Bonnie wanted to sell then it was her right, but what none of them wanted was for her to make a rash decision in the midst of her grief.
‘I’ve barely started it let alone finished it.’ Bonnie had made a good start on the sky and the sketch of the rest of the detail was there ready and waiting.
‘Artist’s block?’ Faye ruffled her damp hair to smooth it out.
Faye looked stunning, whatever her hair was doing, unlike Margot who felt like a drowned rat if she ever let her mousy strands come into contact with drizzle.
‘You could say that,’ Bonnie answered.
‘Have you painted at all since Howard…?’ Margot’s voice trailed off. She didn’t need to finish.
‘I keep trying.’ Bonnie sat down and looked into her lap as if it was something to be ashamed of.
‘No judgement here,’ said Faye.
‘When my mum died, I didn’t read a book for months.’ Margot’s admission had Bonnie looking up. ‘I didn’t. I couldn’t. Either the text reminded me of death, or of Mum, or of families that were still intact. I saw her in between the pages of everything.’
‘How did you move forwards?’ Bonnie wanted to know.
‘One day at a time. I kept busy at home, which was easy; there was always a lot to do, and I ignored books for a bit.’
‘I keep sitting in front of my easel,’ said Bonnie. ‘I’ve even mixed paints, but then I lift the brush and I can’t quite carry on.’
‘You will, eventually,’ Faye encouraged. ‘Creativity isn’t something you can force. It will come.’
‘In the early days when Mum died,’ said Margot, ‘not only did I stop reading, I lost my ability to follow a basic recipe. I messed up quite a few meals. Put the wrong ingredients in, mixed up a gravy instead of a cheese sauce. I suppose cooking is creative, and I couldn’t do it when my head was elsewhere.
’ She looked to Bonnie. ‘Keep sitting in front of your easel when the mood takes you, mix the paint if you feel like it, give yourself permission to do a bloody awful piece of art.’
They all laughed at that.
‘The rain has stopped,’ said Faye. ‘Why don’t we put our coats on and go down the hill to look at the view ourselves.
’ She addressed Bonnie. ‘You might find being outside and looking at the real-life scene, taking in your Howard’s beautiful bookshop rather than looking at a photograph, is enough to make you want to paint. ’
But Bonnie shook her head. ‘Oh no, I think actually I might be getting a cold. Best I stay inside today and keep warm.’
Margot fought the urge to tell her perhaps the outside air and exercise might ward off the cold if there really was one coming. They’d got this far – getting Bonnie to invite them over was a major milestone and she didn’t want to ruin anything.
‘Would you girls like to see some photographs of our travels?’ Bonnie asked them in what was, Margot suspected, a tactic to stop them talking about leaving the cottage.
For the next hour they went through page after page of pictures, Bonnie talking through at length what the picture was of, what she and Howard had done that day. She added animated anecdotes, tales about Howard that fitted the way they knew him already.
Margot closed the last of the photo books Bonnie had had made rather than printing out pictures and using a traditional photo album. Margot longed to have her own versions of these, and maybe some day she would. ‘I really wanted to travel, you know.’
‘So why didn’t you?’ Bonnie asked.
‘Babies and marriage. And not in the right order. I got pregnant and had to give up my university place. I was doing English and American studies and would’ve had a year in America.’
‘That would’ve been quite the experience.’ Bonnie didn’t leave it there. ‘Do you have regrets?’
‘I’ll never regret the boys, but the study and the travel? Yes, I have regrets.’
‘And your husband, would he travel with you?’
Margot toyed with her wedding band and engagement ring. When she met Faye’s gaze and looked at Bonnie she knew she was among friends.
She could tell Bonnie too. ‘We’re separated.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ said Bonnie.
‘No, don’t be. I left. In the middle of the night without a word. Less than a month ago.’ She looked down at the cover of the photo book and only looked up when she sensed Bonnie sitting forwards, closing the gap between them.
Bonnie reached across and put her hand on Margot’s. ‘Then you had a good reason to leave. And you are very brave.’
Margot, eyes glistening with tears she pushed away, nodded.
Then Bonnie said, ‘Well, you girls have such interesting lives it quite takes my mind off my own troubles.’
Her remark took away a lot of the tension and embarrassment that Margot felt.
And in the comfort of Bonnie’s home she told them both more about Perry, how he had changed from the man she’d first met.
‘I put up with it for so long,’ she said.
‘And I hate that I did. I hate that I let him talk to my boys the way he did, or does.’
‘I’ll bet they don’t resent you one single bit,’ said Bonnie.
‘Actually, they don’t. They weren’t very surprised about what’s happened either.’
‘Is he in touch with them?’ Faye asked.
‘He hasn’t been so far. I don’t want them to cut him out of their lives, but that’s what will happen if he doesn’t accept them for who they are.’ She looked at Bonnie. ‘I envy you and Howard. For your marriage.’
‘We did all right. Oh, we had our ups and our downs, everyone does, but it sounds as though your relationship was very different. If I’m allowed to say it, given I don’t know you all that well, I think you’ve done the right thing.’
‘You have, Margot,’ said Faye.