Chapter Twenty-Five
She’d been avoiding Ted since they’d disrupted Sarah’s art class, but that couldn’t last for ever. Eventually Amy persuaded her to take her to school – the inflatable Santa was safely back in place, she noticed – and he caught her there.
‘I’ve been meaning to talk to you,’ he said.
And that was how she found herself having dinner at his house, with him and Sarah.
She hadn’t bothered dressing up for this; it was just Ted, and she’d come straight from the café, where she’d been making cardboard snowmen with the children.
She was already telling him all about it as she stepped through the door, shrugging out of her coat and pulling her boots off.
‘Yeah, I heard about that,’ he said. ‘And the snow-family you helped the kids make. Everyone snows about it!’
She groaned. ‘My God, that was terrible! Even for you.’ She grinned and nudged him. ‘You can do better. I believe in you.’
Truthfully, she was glad of his terrible joke; somehow it set everything back to normal between them.
‘Here,’ he said ‘Hold on, you’ve got some . . .’ He picked a piece of cotton wool from her hair gently. ‘There.’
‘Hello.’
Sarah stood behind Ted. There was something guarded in her expression as she watched them.
Jen put on her best smile. ‘Hi, thank you for inviting me.’ She knew she had some ground to make up after the art class.
Sarah shrugged. ‘It’s Ted’s place, so I’m not really the one to thank. Not like we live together or anything.’
A glance passed between her and Ted.
‘Oh, well – it’s still nice of you. I brought wine.’
Ted’s place was a far cry from the room at college where they’d spent so many nights talking; this was clean and tidy, with brown leather sofas and a glass coffee table in the living room.
The Christmas tree standing in the corner still displayed Ted’s enthusiasm for the festive period, though, dripping with coloured lights and baubles, and filling the room with the scent of pine.
There was a framed painting on the living-room wall, a vibrant sunset with trees silhouetted in deep blue.
‘Wow,’ Jen said, admiring the picture. ‘Is this one of yours?’
Sarah smiled. ‘It is, actually.’
‘It’s amazing. Look, I’m so sorry about the art class, I was just – I’m obviously no good at it, and I’m sorry if I behaved badly.’ Jen’s words came out in a rush, her cheeks flaming.
Once again, a small look flicked between Sarah and Ted. But she smiled at Jen and placed her hand on her arm.
‘Don’t be silly, it’s fine! The most important thing is for people to have a good time.’ She smiled, and Jen felt even worse that she’d disrupted this perfectly lovely woman’s class.
Ted had made chilli, and they sat eating it out of bowls, drinking wine and chatting happily. Sarah had her leg tucked under her as she ate, and occasionally rested her hand on Ted’s leg or shoulder.
‘Jen’s been helping me organise the fair,’ Ted said.
‘Oh?’ Sarah’s expression was neutral.
‘Yes, she’s already got the decorations, and we’re well on the way to having the disco sorted, right?’
Jen almost choked on the wine. She’d been so caught up in Anthony that she’d forgotten to pick up the decorations, and she hadn’t yet got round to calling Michelle’s nephew. ‘Uh-huh, yes, well, I just need to collect the decorations, actually, but—’
Ted’s head spun around towards her. ‘I thought you’d already done that.’
‘No, but I – it won’t take long, they’re already there, so . . . and yes, I’ll get the band guy pinned down. You know what these musicians are like.’ She laughed, a little half-heartedly.
‘So I hear you’ve been working with the children at Marnie’s?’ Sarah asked, smoothly changing the subject.
Jen swallowed her mouthful, grateful for this intervention. ‘Hmm, well, I wouldn’t say working, exactly, but yeah, it’s been—’
‘Why wouldn’t you?’ Ted asked, refilling her glass.
‘What?’ She lifted her bowl. ‘Delicious, by the way.’
‘Thanks, I know it’s the hotter the better for you.’ He smiled. ‘Why wouldn’t you call it work?’
‘Well, it’s just – like a hobby, you know.’
She looked at Sarah for support, and she nodded as though she understood.
‘Putting a lot of work into something that’s not work,’ Ted said, raising his eyebrows.
‘Well, it’s fun, isn’t it? I like thinking of the activities and doing the prep and then, you know, with the kids. It’s cute, they’re fun, aren’t they?’
Sarah pulled a face. ‘I prefer the older ones, I never know what to say to little kids.’
Jen shrugged. ‘You can say anything, really, they don’t care. That’s probably why Ted ended up doing it, they’re the only ones that can put up with his jokes.’
They laughed, and he grinned. ‘Rude.’
‘Truth. But hey, I have been thinking about what else to do with the kids actually – what do you think about maybe some salt-dough ornaments, or sewing little felt stockings or something? That might be a bit much for the café, I suppose, but . . . what?’
Ted was smirking. ‘So what’s your plan here?’
She shifted in her seat. ‘What do you mean, plan?’
‘Well, are you going to stay in Babblebrook? You obviously love it.’
She laughed nervously. ‘Hardly, I’m used to the city, I mean, Babblebrook’s not exactly . . .’
Sarah was nodding emphatically. ‘This is what I keep saying. We’re too young for Babblebrook, right? We need to be in a big city, with galleries and theatres and, you know, interesting stuff.’
‘Well, we’re not quite in Babblebrook, are we? Waterfield’s a metropolis by comparison.’
‘Hardly,’ Sarah muttered.
‘And anyway, Babblebrook’s interesting in its own way,’ Ted said. He looked at Jen and grinned. ‘That open mic night, right? It was certainly – different!’
Jen spoke at the same time, laughing. ‘Interesting! Yes, you could say that. Oh, it was fun, though! And the little—’
‘Dog!’ Ted said.
At the same time, they both did an impression of the dog bowing, and burst into laughter.
‘So cute,’ Jen said, wiping her eyes as her laughter subsided.
‘You should teach again,’ Ted said, pointing his fork at her.
‘I – what?’
He leaned over the table, reaching for her hand, his earnest gaze on her.
‘Look, I know – I know it was in the middle of all that terrible stuff, and I know you felt you couldn’t afterwards, but that was so long ago.
And you were so good, Jen. You are so good, look at what you’re doing with the kids in the village, they all love you, you’re like – a Babblebrook legend or something – the magical Train Lady! ’ He laughed.
Jen’s heart was crashing. Occasionally, this thought did slip into her mind, more often these days. She loved being with children, it was true. But when she thought about it, she felt like she was back there, in all that turmoil and heartbreak. In the worst time of her life.
She didn’t know if she could face it again.
She shook her head. ‘I don’t know.’ Her voice came out as a whisper. ‘I just don’t think I can—’
He squeezed her hand tighter. ‘You can. I know you can. And I’ll be there for you, I can help, I’ve had an idea that—’
Sarah stood up quietly, jerking upright, taking her empty bowl and walking out, her movements stiff and awkward.
Jen looked at Ted, removing her hand from his grip and placing them both in her lap. She stared down at them as he stood and walked after Sarah, muttering ‘shit’ under his breath.
Jen tried not to listen to their hushed argument through the wall. And tried not to feel guilty.
For a moment there, she’d forgotten that Sarah was in the room. And Ted had seemed pretty shocked to see her, too.
Julia was waiting in the kitchen when she came in. ‘How was your night?’ she asked.
‘Oh. Fine, thanks.’
Julia frowned. ‘You OK?’
Jen sighed. She sat down at the table and Julia poured a glass of wine into the waiting glass, before sipping her own.
‘I don’t know, it was a bit – weird. I think I’ve upset Sarah. Again.’ She took a grateful gulp of wine.
‘What? Sarah’s lovely! How’ve you managed that?’
Jen rolled her eyes. ‘Thanks for the sisterly support.’
‘Sorry. But seriously, what happened?’
Jen explained as best she could. The tale came out garbled and confused.
Julia sucked air in through her teeth. ‘Ah.’
‘What do you mean, “ah”?’ Jen was beginning to remember why she’d stopped confiding in her sister.
‘Well, it’s just – it must be hard for her. You and Ted have always been very – close.’
Jen snorted. ‘Oh, come on. We’re just friends.’
Julia was turning the stem of her glass, focused on the wine. ‘You sure about that?’ she asked softly.
‘I – yes! Obviously we are, there’s nothing going on. He’s got a girlfriend!’
‘He’s always had a soft spot for you, though. Remember at college? When Mum and Dad split up.’
Jen stared at her. She didn’t want to talk about this. They never talked about this.
But Julia just kept speaking. ‘It was so hard for you. And I know – I know I wasn’t the best at looking after you when it happened.’ She flushed, running her hand through her hair. ‘I just – you were struggling so much and I didn’t know how to make it better, it was – it was hard for me too.’
‘What? You just glided through it, like you do with everything in life, always on top of everything, always perfect.’ Jen tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice. She didn’t quite manage.
Julia gave her a weighted look. ‘No. I didn’t. I’m just better at hiding it than you are.’
‘I wasn’t struggling that much.’
‘Jen.’ Her voice was soft, her gaze gentle, challenging Jen to be honest.
It had hit her like a juggernaut. One day, they were a happy family, and she was having fun with her friends at the nearby college, going home for holidays and enjoying being looked after by her parents.
The next, her world fell apart. Their ‘happy’ marriage had been a sham.
They’d managed to hold it together until she left home, and then everything fell apart.
A bitter divorce followed, during which both parents turned to their daughters for support, badmouthing each other with poisonous stories.
Visits home were a nightmare of recrimination. The family house was sold. Everything Jen had believed in was torn apart – every film, every book, that promised a happy ending was exposed as a lie. And everything she thought she could count on in life crumbled away.
Everything except Ted.
‘Remember how he looked out for you?’ Julia asked.
He had spent night after night sitting with her, listening as she unpicked everything, hurt and confused.
He’d held her as she wept, made her laugh with his stupid jokes, played the songs he’d written to cheer her.
Helped with assignments, cajoled their friends into spending weekends hiking because being out in the countryside soothed her.
He had got her through it.
‘But that’s just – he was great, don’t get me wrong. Without him I’d never – but that’s just what friends do.’
Julia met her eye. ‘But you weren’t just friends, were you?’
Memories flooded her. Of how he’d kissed her, just before all this began. Of the nights they’d spent drinking and dancing and talking. Of the nights they’d spent together. ‘But that was – that was nothing. Over before it began.’
‘Because he didn’t want to take advantage of you.’
Jen laughed. ‘I don’t know about that.’
Julia gaped at her. ‘You knew, right? That’s why he broke it off?’
Jen frowned. His reasons at the time had been vague; he didn’t want to jeopardise their friendship, she was dealing with so much, it wasn’t the right time.
Hurt, she’d assumed they were excuses. She’d assumed that she just wasn’t the kind of person that men were serious about.
Everything that had happened since seemed to confirm that.
But Julia shook her head. ‘God, I thought he’d told you. He was worried, you know – you were a mess, Jen. He wasn’t sure you really knew what you wanted and he thought maybe you just needed a friend right then. So he stepped back.’
‘But – why didn’t he tell me? Why – why has he never said anything?
’ A flash of irritation swept through her.
There had been so many chances, over the years, for him to say something.
Would everything have been different, if he’d just told her how he felt?
She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts.
‘Are you sure? How would you even . . . ?’
‘He told us. One time when he came back home with you, I think you’d gone for a nap or something, and he – I remember him sitting at Mum’s table, telling us. He was – I felt so bad for him. He was heartbroken.’
‘But . . .’ Jen’s mind was reeling. Over the years she’d learned to tell herself that their dalliance at college had just been a meaningless fling, two friends confusing that closeness for something else.
Their relationship as a couple would have been short-lived, but their friendship was for ever.
And she wouldn’t want it any other way. ‘But I – it’s not that. It’s never been that.’
Julia drained her glass. ‘Or it’s always been that. And you were too scared to admit it, after Mum and Dad.’
Jen flushed. Julia’s words were like needles, piercing her skin. So what if she had been cautious? She knew what happened when love broke down, the pain, the ugliness of it. And how could you ever be sure that, no matter how well something started, it wouldn’t end up like that?
The one time she’d tried, her fears had been proved right.
‘But – that was all years ago, even if it’s true, and—’
‘It is true.’
‘—and it’s not like that now. We’re just friends, and I’d never jeopardise that. He has a girlfriend, and I’m seeing Anthony.’
Julia’s expression pinched.
‘What?’ Jen snapped. ‘What was that look?’
Julia widened her eyes, trying to appear innocent. ‘Nothing, I just – I’m sure it’s fine, but sometimes I think you’re a bit weird around this guy.’
‘I am not! You haven’t even seen us together.’
‘No, I know, that’s true, but – you seem a bit on edge sometimes. Checking your messages and worrying what to say. It’s like – you know you don’t need to try to be someone you’re not, don’t you?’
‘Oh, don’t you start.’ Jen gulped down her wine and put the glass back on the table a little too forcefully.
‘You all don’t understand why Anthony’s right for me because you don’t understand me!
He gets me, he celebrates the things I’ve done and the choices I’ve made and – and the person I am, he’s not trying to make me into some boring suburban housewife. ’
Julia looked stung, but Jen couldn’t stop herself now. ‘Ted – Ted was just telling me that I should become a teacher and live in Babblebrook, of all places, and I just—’
‘But that’s a great idea! You’re so good with—’
‘But that’s not who I am, and Anthony gets that. I don’t want that life!’
They were silent for a moment, Jen’s words still ringing through the air. She was flushed, her breath coming in quick gasps.
Julia looked at her steadily. ‘If you say so,’ she said.