Chapter 26 #2
‘Mmm, busted.’ She didn’t want to remove the wedding ring. It was beautiful, but it was more than that. It was her link to Sean when he wasn’t there, whether that was at work, in London or in the next room. Removing it was like giving up and accepting they were over.
‘Aye, busted, Mrs Butler. I know, I know… Ms Paradise, but humour me here because there is something so fucking hot about calling you Mrs Butler.’
‘I agree.’ The whole time she’d doubted her ability to stay with him, Cherry had never been able to stop thinking of Sean as her husband, of herself as Mrs Butler. The hold was too strong.
‘Oh, you do?’ A cheeky sideways smirk brought the carefree Sean swimming to the surface.
‘Mmm, maybe. I kind of like it. But I also like being Cherry Paradise. It’s unique. Like me.’
‘So you be Cherry Paradise. Far be it that being married to me should rob you of your unique identity. But allow me to think of you as Mrs Butler in here from time to time.’ Sean tapped his temple. ‘Because I’m not going to lie, it’s hot as fuck.’
‘Speaking of being hot.’ Cherry shivered.
‘Aye, it’s baltic. Come on, let’s get out.’ Sean retrieved her bra, Cherry put it back on, and as he braced her from behind, she climbed up the rocks to dry land.
When they arrived home, a package had arrived addressed to Cherry. She sat at the table, a letter in perfect cursive script open in her hands, surrounded by swathes of colour swatches and a framed photograph her mum had sent – oddly an enlarged version of the one she carried in her locket.
‘This looks pos––’
‘She’s not coming.’
‘No? How not?’ Still damp from the waterfall, Sean placed a beach towel on the chair opposite her and sat down.
He was wearing only shorts, and she recalled the amber beads of soft drink trailing down his chest. There was no competition of what she would rather look at in a contest between him and the letter.
Nonetheless, she read the letter out loud.
Dear Cherry,
Thank you for your letter, sweetheart. I am glad to hear you are settling into Kinshore with Sean.
I would love to come, but I am afraid I won’t be able to travel that far to the Colour my World event.
My arthritis is giving me awful gyp, it’s a long way to travel, and to be honest, I’m not as good with new people as I used to be.
But I will be there in spirit, and I am sending my swatches for you to use, as well as full instructions on how to run an event.
Also enclosed is a photograph. It’s the larger version of your locket one, although you might wish to change the frame to suit the decor in your new house.
Never give up hope. Things may be okay in the end.
Have fun next week.
All my love, Mum. xxx
‘I’m sorry, Cher. I know you wanted her to come. But those aren’t bad reasons.’
‘I know, I know. But…I…’ Cherry’s voice tightened, raw emotion constricting her.
‘I kind of got my hopes up a bit on this one, not going to lie.’ To be able to present her small but imperfect family to Sean’s was important.
And now it wouldn’t be happening. Her mum had put her own needs first and left her daughter looking like a motherless child.
‘But she sent you the swatches?’ Sean fingered the rainbow of samples labelled “Autumn”. ‘So pretty. I’m sure I’m a November.’
‘Yeah, all the swatches for all the seasons and sub-seasons, and about twelve pages of instructions. She says to call her if I need any more guidance, or some woman called Gina Gilhooly, a qualified colourist who lives in Oban.’
Sean sat back in his chair and surveyed it all: the letter, the swatches and the photo. ‘I suspect this is her way of saying she cares.’
‘I think you’re right.’
‘And listen, we don’t need Gina Gilhooly, but it’s good to know she’s there as a backup. You can do this. You still want to?’
As resigned as she appeared at her mum not taking up the invitation, Cherry rallied, helped by Sean’s positivity.
‘Of course.’ She watched his thumb on the swatches before forcing out a smile. How could she not when there was that face, shining with his own beautiful brand of optimism? ‘It could be fun, and she’s gone to the trouble of sending me these, so I should use them.’
‘Brilliant. I’ll tell you what else you can use.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Me. No pressure, but if you need a sommelier or even a model, then I’m on it, okay?’ Sean raised his hand to his forehead like a ship’s captain staring out to sea.
‘A model?’ Cherry laughed.
‘What? You don’t think I could be a model?’
‘Oh, you are model material, Butler. Get you, sitting here topless in these shorts, pretending you don’t know what it does to me. But at an event where your mum and sisters and probably some rabid old grannies from the village are going to be present, it would be wrong.’
‘Shame. I’d be a good model.’
‘Aye, I know. Probably a bit too good. Best you stick to bringing the nibbles.’
Sean rose, leaned over the table, palms flat on the surface, and spoke with a rough twinkle in his voice that could almost certainly induce ovulation.
‘That doesn’t sound half as clean as you think it does, Paradise.’