Chapter 2
TWO
Jules had only been asleep for about an hour after a gruelling night shift when she was woken by someone hammering on the front door.
Next to her the bed was empty and cold. She stretched out her fingers for the little lovingly scribbled note Gavin always left for her to find when she woke up.
Instead of the piece of paper she was expecting, there was just a dent in the pillow where his head had been.
‘Yes?’ she snapped, swinging the front door open to confront two burly looking men in ill-fitting suits.
‘We’re looking for Gavin Stone. Is he in?’
Jules pulled her dressing gown more tightly around her.
‘No. Why?’
‘We want a chat, darling, about some money he owes us. So, if you’d be good enough to tell us where he is…’
The larger of the two men peered over her shoulder. Jules felt her legs begin to tremble slightly.
‘You must have made a mistake and I’m definitely not your darling.’
‘No mistake,’ said the other man, stretching out an arm and placing his hand on the doorframe.
Jules lifted her chin a little.
‘He’s gone to work.’
‘Work!’ Bushy Eyebrows chuckled. ‘And what work would that be?’
She summoned up all her courage, reminded herself that she was used to dealing with difficult people. Sometimes some of the families in the maternity unit could get a bit tricky if they couldn’t visit the new baby.
‘Look, why don’t I give him a call and we can sort this out? You wait there. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.’
Slowly the man retracted his hand, allowing Jules to close the door.
‘Come on, Gavin. Pick up. Please, please, pick up,’ she muttered as she sat on the bed and listened to the phone ringing out.
After a few rings it went to answerphone. Jules could have wept.
‘We’re still waiting,’ one of the men called.
She moved towards the front door but didn’t open it.
‘He’s not answering.’
There was silence apart from heavy breathing.
‘Give me your number and I’ll get him to call.’
‘No need,’ came the reply. ‘Just tell him we’ll be back.’
As Jules listened to their heavy tread getting further away, she sank to the floor, the coir from the doormat prickling her calves. She couldn’t stop shaking. It was all she could do to press redial, but it didn’t matter how many times she rang, Gavin wasn’t picking up.
No way could she sleep so she made herself a cup of sweet tea from which she took little revitalising sips as she pulled on jeans and a jumper.
There was no point sitting around torturing herself with possibilities.
She had to sort this out. Creeping down the stairs and out of the front door she checked up and down the road just in case her unwelcome visitors were loitering outside, but presumably they had moved on to their next victim.
She walked the surrounding streets checking that Gavin’s BMW wasn’t parked a bit further away and he hadn’t just gone to the shops for provisions or fancied a walk in the park.
Actually, that last thought was ridiculous – he really wasn’t into walking.
Heading back towards home she stopped on the corner and rang for an Uber.
A small tabby cat came and rubbed around her ankles as she waited, its identity disc flashing in the sunlight.
‘Where is he?’ she murmured, bending down to rub the cat’s chin. ‘I bet he’s at the house renovation. I bet he’s got his phone on silent. All of this is just a horrible mistake.’
But in the pit of her stomach something told her that there was more to it than that.
The journey to Beech House took about twenty minutes through the city centre traffic. The road was tree-lined and wide, the expensive houses set well back.
‘Posh area this,’ the driver said as he dropped her off.
‘My boyfriend is doing up a house here,’ she said, pointing down the grass-tufted driveway towards an impressive three-storey redbrick Arts and Crafts house.
‘Be nice when it’s done,’ he said. ‘You take care.’
He was looking at her keenly and she realised that her anxiety must have permeated the car.
‘Yes, I will. Thank you.’
She stepped back and waved as he pulled away and suddenly, without him there, without a soul on the street, and only the rustling of the trees for company, she felt very alone.
The driveway looped around the back of the house and Jules was convinced that Gavin’s car would be there alongside a couple of workmen’s vans.
She skirted the overgrown circular bed at the front, containing some poor straggly roses which were doing their best to flower.
Perhaps she would offer to prune them and try to give them a new lease of life, although Gavin would probably want to pull them out and replant with something new.
He wasn’t a rescuer like her; she got an immense feeling of satisfaction from giving things a new lease of life.
Old roses had such a beautiful scent as well.
‘Don’t you worry,’ she whispered to them. ‘I’m in your corner. Even if you end up being uprooted, I’ll make sure you get a second chance.’
She stood up straighter, slowed her breathing and began to feel more in control, except the house looked empty and there was no sound of the electrician’s radio or the plumber’s cheerful whistling.
There was no sign of Gavin’s car either.
No sign of anyone. The windows were still boarded up, although she was sure he’d said the new custom-made ones were arriving a couple of days ago and were about to be installed.
She sank on to the shady back steps, pulling her cardigan closer.
If only she could talk to Carrie; just hear her voice saying that everything would be fine.
She took her phone out of her back pocket, her finger hovering over Carrie’s name.
It should be the easiest thing in the world to press that brand new shiny screen.
Instead, she stood up and, without a backwards glance, walked away from the house, heading towards the centre of town where she could pick up a bus back home to wait.
Jules made a cup of tea and picked up a magazine, but she couldn’t concentrate.
Her muscles were solid with tension. Maybe a bath would help, with that nice neroli oil which her mother had sent and she’d been saving for a special moment.
She turned on the taps, opened the bathroom cabinet and paused, arms raised.
The two shelves that Gavin had commandeered for all of his lotions and potions were empty.
Behind her the water gushed into the bath.
Despite the steam filling the small room, Jules went cold.
Turning off the taps, she walked as steadily as possible through to Carrie’s old bedroom, pausing before the wardrobe where Gavin kept his immaculately presented clothes.
She stood for a whole minute, afraid to open the door.
Bile rose in her throat. She reached out, took hold of the metal teardrop handle, placed her palm flat against the opposing door.
She was always afraid that the wardrobe would topple over because you had to yank the door open.
A sob shuddered up through her. The wardrobe was empty. All of his clothes had gone, too.
It was a week later when Jules heard a key in the lock.
She had been off work, unable to eat, barely able to sleep although that was all she wanted to do – to sleep and wake up to find that it had all been a terrible nightmare.
The burly men had been back, but she had hidden in a corner, crouched between her dressing table and the wall, pretended that she wasn’t there, listening to them telling her how she wasn’t the only one, how they didn’t want to harass her, but they had a job to do.
She felt as if she was existing in a parallel world, one which she’d never have been able to conjure up.
It had been one of the worst weeks of her life, almost as bad as when her father had died.
At least her father hadn’t meant to leave her, but Gavin obviously had.
He’d conned her, strolling away without a word, taking the money she’d lent him, leaving God knows how many debts and maybe other broken-hearted women behind.
She couldn’t believe she’d been so stupid as to believe in him.
And then late that afternoon, sitting on the sofa in the rabbit pyjamas which she’d been wearing all week and barely watching some film which she’d hoped would be distracting, she’d heard the door open.
He was back. She spilt her hot chocolate all over herself as she leapt up.
She looked terrible but what did that matter?
He was here to explain and apologise and tell her that he still loved her.
The door from the hallway opened and at the sight of the person gazing back at her Jules promptly burst into tears all over again.
‘Shh,’ Carrie said, dropping her bag on the floor and moving swiftly towards her.
Gently she took the mug from Jules’s hands and put it on the table before stroking her disgustingly manky and matted hair back from her unwashed face.
‘Please don’t cry,’ Carrie soothed, wrapping gentle arms around her. ‘It’s going to be all right. I promise.’
Jules allowed herself to be held until the sobs began to subside and Carrie eased her back down onto the sofa.
‘W-what are you doing here?’ she snuffled.
‘I’m here,’ Carrie said, softly, but in a voice that didn’t brook any opposition, ‘to take care of you.’
‘H-how did you know?’
‘Your mum rang me. Said she didn’t know what to do.
She’d called the hospital because you weren’t answering your phone and they told her you weren’t at work and had been signed off with stress.
She said she came to see you, to take you home with her, but you wouldn’t open the door to her or to your sister. ’
Jules grabbed a tissue from the almost empty box on the coffee table and wiped her eyes. She shook her head, stared at her lap, couldn’t look Carrie in the eye.
‘I couldn’t face them. I couldn’t face anyone. What is there to say except I’ve been an idiot.’
Carrie reached for one of her hands and held it firmly.
‘You’re far from alone in that. We’ve all been there at one time or another. You were there for me when I needed it and I’m here for you now.’
‘I went into work when I shouldn’t have done, the evening after Gavin left. I was too upset, not concentrating and…’
She could hardly bear to think about it.
‘We were short-staffed and it was a busy night and I was distracted and…’
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
‘I nearly made a mistake. I nearly left it too long before calling for back-up. I’ve never done that before. It could have all gone so wrong. I could have cost that baby his life.’
Carrie took her hands.
‘But you didn’t, did you?’
Jules shook her head.
‘Afterwards I went to pieces. They sent me home. I’m not to be trusted, Carrie.’
‘Of course you are,’ Carrie said, leaning closer. ‘I would absolutely trust you if I was giving birth.’
‘But I don’t trust myself – with anything.’
‘Have you seen your doctor?’
Jules nodded.
‘She’s the only person I’ve seen in the last few days.
She’s signed me off for six weeks. Part of me is relieved and part of me feels really guilty and part of me thinks six weeks isn’t nearly long enough and another part thinks it’s far too long because I just don’t know how to stop thinking about everything. ’
‘Which is why I’m taking you back with me, back to the Isle of Wight for as long as you need, where I can look after you and you can learn to believe that one day life will be good again.
I don’t want any arguing. Tomorrow the car is booked on the return journey and I’m not getting back on that ferry without you. ’
Jules knew that if she was to survive in any way at all, she had to give in. So she leaned her head on Carrie’s shoulder and just whispered, ‘Thank you.’