Chapter 10
The next morning, I woke up with my hair in a curly nightmare nest and Aunt Lou’s copy of The House of Silk on my chest. I’d reached for it as a comfort blanket after tucking myself in.
I could almost hear her taking a turn reading aloud as we put skeins of yarn through the ball winder, turning it by hand.
Thoughts of Cooper snuck in around the edges of that memory. For a moment he was the one reading the book and I was curled up beside him by the woodstove on the boat. I blinked that image away. Temporary break-up-related insanity, that’s what that was.
Glaring at myself in the mirror, Denman brush in hand, I cursed past-Tabitha for showering off the smell of canal and then collapsing into bed for an early night.
To be honest, I hadn’t wanted to spend much time mooning about the flat.
Going to bed right away had at least kept me from wandering into the main bedroom to brood.
But there was a price to pay for that reprieve.
My head looked, as Mum would say, like an explosion in a mattress factory. Wonderful.
I made my way to the kitchen and found the egg poacher in the cupboard under the sink.
I hadn’t bothered with dinner last night and I was now completely famished.
After dotting butter in the plastic cups, I cracked in two eggs and set a timer.
While they cooked, I added wholemeal bread to the toaster and unloaded the washing machine.
It seemed it had been running nonstop since I caught Richard in the act.
As I draped the borrowed joggers and sweatshirt over the indoor airer, I had to acknowledge that at least it wasn’t more sullied crochet.
I just hoped Cooper wouldn’t mind his woodsy soap being washed away by tea rose and fresh linen.
The timer went and I buttered my toast before topping it with perfectly poached eggs.
There was a bit of smoked salmon in the fridge and, after it passed the sniff test, I added that to my plate, because why not?
As I sat down to eat, I checked my phone and found several cute animal TikToks and memes from Emma.
Clearly an attempt at cheering me up. Which, to be fair, they did.
At least until the front door opened and Richard came in, without so much as a cursory knock. Like this was just a normal morning and he was coming home from a night out with the boys. Stupid, stupid past-Tabitha. She’d left the bloody chain off. I was going to have to have words with her.
Halfway through cutting a bite of toast and egg, I froze, just looking at him. Richard’s eyes found mine and the door fell shut behind him with a clunk. I was, abruptly, no longer hungry.
‘… Hi,’ he said, shifting his keys from one hand to the other.
I couldn’t help but be surprised at how good he looked.
Especially considering how long he’d been separated from his shelf of the bathroom cabinet.
After the past two days, I’d thought he’d just be any old guy to me but he was still Richard: perfect hair, cashmere coat, checked scarf.
He was clean-shaven and bright-eyed, like nothing had happened.
Comparatively, with my tangled-up hair and yesterday’s hangover still weighing heavily in the bags under my eyes, I felt like I’d spent a week living under a bush.
‘Hi,’ I said, and wrapped my dressing gown tighter around myself. ‘I’m going to work in a minute but if you wanted to pack some stuff…’
‘I actually thought you might be willing to… talk now.’ Richard set his keys down on the breakfast bar and eyed my plate of eggs and salmon wistfully.
It was the same breakfast I had made him on anniversaries and at Christmas, I realised belatedly.
The smell of it now making me nauseous. ‘Maybe have a coffee and just talk things over?’
That actually sounded pleasantly mature.
I’d been worrying so much about what was going to happen with the flat and his stuff and everything else.
It was honestly a bit of a relief that he’d turned up to discuss it.
Even if, ideally, we’d have been doing this over text.
Seeing him again was a lot, especially for that time of the morning.
‘Right,’ I said, nodding. ‘Okay, well… I have work but if we’re quick. Um… I suppose the biggest thing is going to be who stays here and what to do about the rent over the notice period.’
Richard’s eyebrows rose and his mouth lifted slightly into a disbelieving smile. ‘You want me to move out?’
‘Or I can, but I’d need to check if Mum and Dad have space for me at the moment, because I need to think about rent on the shop,’ I said, trying to keep the peace. ‘I just thought maybe you’d be moving in with… you know. Her.’
‘With… oh!’ He pulled a face as if he’d just sipped spoiled milk. ‘No, no that’s not… she’s no one. Just a… what I meant was I thought we could talk about this and get past it. Together.’
She’s no one. How could three words make me so angry and feel so devastated at the same time?
He hadn’t even said her name. For the sake of ‘no one’, he had torn my world apart.
Destroyed three years of togetherness. He couldn’t even imagine living with her, apparently, but she was worth spitting on our relationship.
I’d had this idea in my head that he was leaving me for her.
That he’d cheated on me because he just couldn’t resist her.
He loved her more than me. But no… she could have been anyone.
No one. And she was still worth losing me over.
I blinked at him, tears threatening to spill over.
Disbelief following hurt and anger until I couldn’t breathe enough air.
He’d made me feel like this before – slightly unreal, as if our two versions of fact weren’t quite meeting in the middle.
Such as when I’d special-ordered him a new, criminally expensive golf club he wanted and he assured me four months later that he’d bought it himself.
I’d always thought it was just his memory being bad, or me caring too much about silly details.
But, sitting there, it felt like I was from an alternative timeline altogether.
One where I hadn’t walked in on him having appallingly loud sex with another woman on our sofa.
‘Together?’ I repeated and pushed the plate of eggs away because I was worried I might actually throw it at him. ‘Richard… we aren’t going to be together any more. You cheated on me.’
He actually looked surprised. Not shocked, but mildly surprised, like he’d walked in to discover I’d rearranged the kitchen slightly. Things weren’t as he’d expected to find them. How odd! The tears were still lodged in my throat, but so was a bubble of hysterical laughter.
Richard held out his arms, perplexed. ‘Come on, Tabs, it was one time. It didn’t mean anything.’
The sight of the congealing eggs and fish turned my stomach.
I picked up my plate and went over to the bin, scraping the food into it without looking up.
‘Well congratulations on throwing us away for something that didn’t mean anything,’ I said to the discarded tea bags and eggshells, not trusting myself to look at him.
I put the plate in the dishwasher and quickly went to our room to grab some clothes for the day.
I didn’t want him to see the cracks in my resolve or how much he’d managed to hurt me.
He didn’t deserve that kind of access to me any more.
From now on, we were strangers. He already felt so far from the Richard I’d loved.
She’s no one. How could he say that? How could he believe that would make it okay? Who even was he right now?
I heard Richard following me and turned to glare at him as I reached the wardrobe. I just wanted him to go away before I fell apart.
‘If you want to get some stuff, please do,’ I said, as firmly as I could. ‘Otherwise, I’m going to get ready and go to work. I don’t really want to talk about this any more unless we’re going to discuss arrangements for leaving the flat.’
I was proud of myself for getting it out without my voice going all wobbly and weird, but he didn’t seem to be listening to me. Or looking at me, as he said, ‘This isn’t mine.’
I glanced down, wrong-footed by the pained tone in his voice. He was holding a dark piece of clothing, wet and slightly crumpled. The sweatshirt I’d taken out of the washing machine shortly before he arrived.
‘Whose is this?’ he asked, turning big, wounded eyes on me. ‘It’s a man’s sweatshirt, and I’ve never seen you with it even when you were doing up your shop… where did it come from?’
‘I borrowed it yesterday,’ I said and took a step towards him, holding my hand out for it. Richard held it away from me, though.
‘From who – Emma? Or a new boyfriend?’ I couldn’t tell if he wanted that to be the case or if he’d be disappointed if he was right.
A small, mean part of me thought he was actually pleased to have something to throw back at me.
He never liked to be in the wrong – even over stupid things like who put the wooden chopping board in the dishwasher.
But I didn’t want to lie to him – that’d just be sinking to his level.
Still, the unvarnished truth felt like something to keep to myself.
I didn’t want Richard haring off up the towpath to have a go at Cooper.
Not when all he’d done was drag me out of the canal and give me some dry clothes.
All perfectly innocent. Minus the arm and bum appreciation and the flirting I’d done.
If it even was flirting. With the benefit of distance, I was less certain that he had been trying to be anything but friendly, with a side of sarcastic banter.
It had just been… refreshing to talk to someone who actually listened to me and responded to what I said instead of brushing me off.
I hadn’t realised how much I’d missed that.