Chapter 35 #4
‘I’m so so sorry,’ Jane said to me gently rubbing my back.
‘I would never have told you if she hadn’t said it.
It’s none of my business. And you never know, it could be something perfectly innocent,’ she said, but her natural suspicion leaked through in an undercurrent reflected in her tone.
She’d made her feelings on cheating crystal clear when she told me about Michael Maloney.
We’d laughed at the time, but we were both equally horrified his wife took him back.
If it were Jane’s husband, she’d have his head on a spike. I was under no illusion.
We emerged from the cubicle to the quietness of the empty toilets.
I caught sight of myself in the mirror above the hand basin.
I was a mess, make-up everywhere. I’d aged about ten years in five minutes and my hair looked like it had been dragged through a bush backwards.
I didn’t give a flying fuck about any of it.
My heart was shattered into a million pieces as my mind continued to torture me with images of her in John’s house; her hands on him, the two of them laughing at me. It struck me hard in the gut – karma. It was only what I deserved.
‘You’ve got to help me,’ I begged Jane.
‘What do you want me to do?’ she asked.
‘Go get the key card off John. Tell him I want to freshen up, that the wine’s hit me a bit, but I’ll be back when I’ve fixed myself. Tell him you’re going to touch up my make-up for me. Just get the key card. I need to get into that room.’
‘Ok.’ She left me in the toilet alone and I hid in the cubicle, heartbroken, humiliated and ashamed.
This was worse than I’d ever felt in my entire life.
The devil reappeared on my shoulder, murmuring, ‘I told you so.’ I pinned my hands to my ears.
I couldn’t bear to hear it. This was karma in full force.
How dare I think I could leave Rob and expect to find happiness myself?
How had I allowed myself to fall so utterly and hopelessly in love with John Kelly?
My main priority that second was to get far away from there as fast as possible.
I would lick my wounds in private later.
I just needed to escape. There was no way I could face him, or her, or anyone else out there.
I couldn’t for a second pretend to feel like my entire world hadn’t just been obliterated in front of me.
Jane returned swiftly with the key card. ‘It won’t be long before he comes looking for you,’ she warned me.
‘I know,’ I said. I’d immediately assumed he was always that way because he wanted to protect me, but perhaps he couldn’t take the chance someone else would talk to me first. I felt sick. I felt stupid. And I needed to leave immediately.
‘What are you going to do?’ Jane asked.
‘I need to get my passport. I’m getting the first plane out of here.’ I was on autopilot, desperate to get as far away as physically possible before I splintered into a trillion pieces.
‘Would you not just sleep on it?’ Jane tried to reason with me. ‘I know it looks bad, but what if it’s not what she said?’
‘If it’s not what she said, then why did she say it? And why could I not get hold of him at all on Thursday night? You’re the policewoman, the evidence doesn’t look good, does it?’
I flew out the toilets and up the stairs two at a time. Jane wanted to come with me but I begged her to go buy me some time and stall John. I didn’t want him seeing me like this. I didn’t want to let myself down by causing a scene. I just needed to get out of the country as quickly as possible.
Thankfully, I always left my passport in my weekend bag.
I glanced around the room that we’d been so happy in only a few hours earlier, the unmade bed taunted me now.
How could he do that to me? I tried not to think about it as I balled my dress and threw it into the bag.
I pulled on jeans, a vest and a jacket, and the flat pumps I’d packed for the morning.
I splashed some water on my face, trying to rid myself of the tell-tale streaks of mascara.
It was pointless, the tears refused to stop despite my best efforts.
I fled the room, bolting down the stairs, past reception and into the crisp December air.
There were four taxi’s outside the front door.
The first two were booked already for guests heading home from the long day of celebrations.
The third taxi driver took pity on me as I leaned into the passenger window.
‘Where do you need to go?’ he asked, starting the engine. ‘Dublin,’ I said.
‘Dublin?’ Shock lined his face. ‘That’s a two-and-a-half-hour drive,’ he said.
I was well aware of that, but there was no flight from Knock until the next day and I couldn’t take the chance John would turn up at the airport with some bullshit story I’d be tempted to believe, purely because it was what I wanted to hear.
That man had me fully fooled. I genuinely thought he was in love with me. I’d trusted him like no one before.
‘I know. Please take me there. I’ll pay you double. I just have to get home now,’ I begged.
He misinterpreted my tears from my broken heart as some sort of family emergency, or bereavement because he nodded then chewing hard on a piece of gum.
‘Thank you.’ Relief washed over me as we pulled away from the hotel. I prayed to God I would never set eyes on that place again and allowed my head to fall back against the rest as tears flowed freely down my face.