by Lucy Coleman
‘D’oh! Because people like to stay in the heart of the countryside and the Lake District is no exception. Stop fretting, we’ll stumble across it eventually.’
My phone begins to buzz in my pocket.
‘Can you see who that is, please, just in case it’s important. I’m going to turn left here and I will pull in if I can find a spot.’
‘You have a string of missed calls; we must have been out of signal for a while. Hello? Sorry, can you speak up a bit. The engine is rather noisy. Oh, right. Hang on a second.’
Beth lowers the phone, and her voice.
‘It’s Tim, from work? He says he needs to talk to you urgently. He wants to warn you about your friend. I’ll put it on speakerphone.’
Great! Day three of the trip and already there’s a problem.
‘Hold on Tim, I’m pulling over. Beth, this spot isn’t ideal as there are a few big potholes, so brace yourself for a series of bumps.’ Nursing Dad’s baby as gently as I can, it takes a few moments to bring Victor to a safe halt.
‘Right, Tim, what’s up?’
‘A guy rang asking to speak to you urgently. I said you weren’t available at the moment and asked if he wanted to leave a message. He said no, then demanded that I put him through to you immediately.’
My mouth goes dry. That can only be Cary and the missed calls must have been from him. He’s assuming I’m at work. Great.
I bet Tim did the whole ‘Good morning, this is Tim speaking, how can I help?’ thing. Perfect when it’s a client, but I can see now that it will have annoyed Cary not to be instantly put through to me.
I’d admitted to Tim that he was an ex-client, after having recklessly blurted out that Cary was my boyfriend. I had to correct that, while leaving it rather vague. If Cary thought I’d been discussing him with Tim, he’d be livid, so I thought it was the wisest thing to do.
Tim ploughs on.
‘He was being cagey, well, rude even. I’ve dealt with his sort before. They often turn out to be unscrupulous salespeople. Anyway, then he said he was your boyfriend and it was a family matter. That made alarm bells ring in my head, as you’d made it clear he was just a client now. I thought that maybe, given his brusque attitude, he was hoping to find out where you are. So I told him I knew that information was incorrect, because you’d told me so yourself. Then he slammed the phone down on me. You are safe, aren’t you?’
Nightmare! Tim thinks we were involved and now we’re not. This mix up isn’t Tim’s fault and he sounds genuinely concerned. Ironically, he thought he was protecting me. I should have texted Cary to let him know I was travelling. If Cary has news it must be important.
‘I’ll deal with it, don’t worry. Thanks for your help and for letting me know.’
I click end call. What else could I say? Beth is staring at me.
‘You and Cary broke up?’
My chin flops down onto my chest. What have I done?
I immediately redial Cary’s number, but it goes straight to answerphone. I’m conscious we have a campsite to find and it could take a while, so I text him.
So sorry I missed your calls. Patchy signal. Touring Lake District in camper van with Beth. Last-minute change of plan. I will call you later. Hope you were phoning with good news.
‘I’m your sister, Leesa and I demand to know what’s going on.’
‘Not now, Beth.’ The growl in my voice is enough to have her sinking back in her seat. If I get one of Victor’s wheels stuck in a pothole we’re stuffed, and Dad would never forgive me if there’s so much as the tiniest mark on Victor.
*
Cary won’t answer my calls, or the two explanatory emails I’ve written, begging him to get in touch. The only contact we’ve had since is one short response he did via text.
Tim does a good job of shielding you from unwanted intrusions. I received the message loud and clear.
My mind continues to conjure up a dozen different scenarios about what might have gone wrong – but if Cary won’t speak to me, now, it all ends here. Jealousy is an ugly emotion and I didn’t think he was like that – but clearly, he is. Even if Cary was understandably upset when I didn’t immediately return his calls, my emails explained everything in great detail. Cary’s treatment of Tim was little short of harassment and I think he owes Tim an apology at the very least. The man is infuriating and he simply can’t treat people that way. The world doesn’t exist to serve him.
By day five of our trip anger sets in. If Cary has had an accident, surely he could have asked someone close to him to let me know? Sally maybe. If he’s annoyed about Tim’s questioning that’s one thing, but he knows I’m anxious to hear news of Cressida. Is he now trying to punish me with his silence? If Beth wasn’t with me I would jump in the van and drive straight to Porthkerry without stopping, just so I can put an end to my misery.
I continue to text every morning and every night, but even when we arrive back home there’s still no word. And, rather dejectedly, I see there’s no letter of apology waiting on the mat and no messages on the answerphone.
We unload my things and then I drive Victor and Beth back to Mum and Dad’s.
‘Was it a good break?’ Mum asks, tentatively, as if she hasn’t been in touch daily to check on us.
‘Lovely,’ I confirm, giving Beth a meaningful look to remind her to say nothing. Not that I’ve enlightened her, and she’s dying to know what’s really been going on. But taking her away for a break means she’s in my debt and I can only hope she doesn’t blurt it out. I decide to make a quick exit, though, before Mum or Dad ask about Cary.
‘I’m going to head back. It’s been a long drive and I’m tired.’
We all exchange hugs and Dad follows me out to my car.
‘I started her up every day and she has a full tank.’
Dad’s cars have names. Mine don’t. Why is it a she, I wonder?
‘Something’s up. What is it? Was Beth hard work?’ Dad asks, sympathetically.
‘Not really. This mood is down to me and it’s something I have to sort out for myself. But thanks, Dad. Can I ask you a really odd question?’
‘Fire away.’
‘When you met Mum, was it love at first sight?’
His eyes widen, and he grins back at me. ‘Good Lord, no. We shared the same circle of friends for a long while before I decided to ask her out on a date.’
I’ve heard Mum’s side of the story, but never Dad’s.
‘Which was because…?’
He runs his hand along his chin, in thinking mode.
‘Nothing major. I don’t think either of us were ready, if I’m honest. Mum was the serious type, always studying and making excuses not to come out with the crowd. And then, one day I looked at her and something was different. If I remember rightly, I’d caught her looking at my mate, Ian, with what I thought was interest. It made me realise I was wasting time and if I didn’t get a move on someone else would snap her up.’
‘And Mum?’
I smile to myself as I know this bit, but I am curious to hear Dad’s version.
‘She said I grew on her, which was a good job as first impressions aren’t always correct. She thought I was a bit reckless way back then. I couldn’t handle alcohol and I made a bit of a fool of myself on a few occasions. But getting with your mum was the best thing I ever did, and I changed. We changed each other. And here we are with two lovely, if sometimes troublesome, daughters who are a constant worry and a constant source of delight. When it’s meant to be, things have a way of falling into place but sometimes you need to be patient.’
‘That’s good to hear, Dad. Sorry about the worry… and constantly adding to it.’
‘I assume this is about Cary?’
I nod. ‘Time to part company. He’s ignoring all contact from me. Maybe I read more into it than was actually there. It hurts admitting that, but I refuse to chase after someone who won’t commit and throws a tantrum when I’m not instantly available.’
‘Ah, we did
wonder. I’ll tell Mum. Best to find out now, love. Less painful than further on down the road.’
He shrugs and smiles, leaning in to scoop me into his arms.
‘Any man who doesn’t worship the ground you stand on isn’t good enough for my daughter. But I didn’t take Cary for that kind of a fool and I admit, I am disappointed in him.’ He whispers the words into my hair and I half-wonder if he didn’t mean to say that out loud.
I’m disappointed, too, as much as I’m trying to rationalise it. How can you get angry when someone rejects you, when you never wanted them in the first place? Unless, of course, you did. And you were only fooling yourself because you didn’t want to get hurt again.
On the drive back home I decide I have no choice other than to accept the fact that Cary has taken umbrage and isn’t even prepared to give me a chance to explain. Our contract is done. What I told Tim wasn’t meant to be repeated, it was simply the truth and correcting his observation. If Cary talked to him with an abrasive attitude, then he was the one at fault. And if he can ignore me for so long after a string of missed calls, then it’s blatantly obviously he is able to handle whatever he’s dealing with without any further help from me. I have no choice but to accept that and move on; or risk looking like a desperately clingy woman who refuses to let go when something is done. Well, that’s never been my style and Cary shouldn’t flatter himself that he’s so much of a catch I’ll take whatever he dishes out.
I’m back at work on Monday, and with no spurious boyfriend and no Bridezilla to contend with, maybe it’s time to grab some me-time in between building my little empire. Zumba here I come! This is going to be the year I get myself fit and stop letting other people’s problems drag me down. Woo-hoo!
Woo-hoo, indeed.
Whoop.
Gulp.
Not feeling it.
A single tear trickles down my cheek. Don’t be so ridiculous, Leesa, I mumble to myself as I focus on the road ahead. It’s pretty pathetic to discover at this point that you have genuine feelings for someone who can cast you aside so easily.
What rams it home is something that Dad said. One day he looked at Mum and something was different. Looking back, I thought Cary and I might have had a moment like that on Valentine’s Day, although it sent me into a bit of a spin. So, I put it down to sexual chemistry, at the time. But try as I might I couldn’t get it out of my head afterwards. Was it the same for him? Well, obviously not.
Besides, he’s looking for the type of person I can never be. I’m not the hostess and domestic goddess he needs in order to make his life complete. Dedicating my life to running a large country house and looking after a growing family simply isn’t for me after what I’ve been through. Cressida would understand, I’m sure.
However, she is a lady who set aside her own ambitions, and her dream, because nature had given her the necessary nurturing skills in abundance. I have the compassion, I suppose, but not the aptitude. As for being a sick nurse and mopping fevered brows – just the thought of it makes me feel faint. And I’d rather order in than slave over a cookbook.
At the precise moment that an innate sense of connection – for want of a better word – registered with me, I swear I thought I saw something similar reflected on Cary’s face. As Dad said, if it’s meant to be, everything will fall into place. If it isn’t, then it falls apart and tears won’t change anything.
Wrong time, wrong place and maybe that was the point – wrong guy, yet again! I would rather stay single forever than go through yet another relationship disaster because I don’t think my heart can take any more pain.
5th December
30
A Call for Help
Christmas is looming and finally the pace at work is slowing down after a bumper autumn. Zack, Tim and I are off on our first official office party tomorrow and I’m going to present them with a cash Christmas bonus. I think it’s generous enough to put a big smile on their faces and thank them for demonstrating more commitment than I could have reasonably expected. That old saying is true. Treat people the way you want to be treated. Talk to people the way you want to be talked to, because respect is earned, not given. They have both earned my respect and, in return, I do believe I’ve earned theirs.
With the forward schedule already promising an even better start for the first two quarters of the new year, I can at last breathe a huge sigh of relief. The salaries are getting paid and the profit margin will allow for further expansion.
Dynamic Videography has jumped up to the next level and it’s energising. In fact, if I could skip the obligatory Christmas season celebrations altogether, I’d happily work through it. My dream is finally coming true and it’s energising. But with Zack and Tim both owed a lot of holiday, the sensible thing to do was to close for business for what is, usually, the quietest period of the year.
I will be grabbing online time but focusing on business planning, in between trying to convince everyone I also feel seasonably jolly, which I don’t. Yet again. Even though I’ve made an uneasy pact with myself about the mistakes I’ve made and leaving them all firmly in the past.
I’m feeling decidedly ‘bah humbug’ because success, I’ve found, isn’t everything. Oh, I’m over the Cary thing, because there’s no point in wanting what you can’t have. I’m a lot of things, but I’m no fool. It hurt a lot more than I could have dreamt; more than every other disappointment I’ve ever felt. And that was a shock.
What doesn’t help this year is that Beth is rarely around these days. She seems to be avoiding all of us, so Christmas plans are thin on the ground. She won’t give Mum and Dad a straight answer about what she wants to do over the holidays, which is a real headache. They don’t want to force her to join in if she isn’t in the mood, but also can’t bear to think of her home alone in a depressive funk.
The upside is that as long as I turn up for Christmas dinner at the very minimum, then I’ll look good. Poor Mum and Dad are probably well and truly fed up with the two of us by now. If I were them I’d book a flight somewhere sunny again and say to hell with trying to get a festive vibe going. Last year they did it to accommodate us; this year they should do it to get away from two unappreciative daughters who have no festive motivation whatsoever. What is it with my family? One bad year is down to an unfortunate set of circumstances; two, actually three, consecutive bad years means that neither Beth nor I have taken control of our lives.
‘I really don’t know for sure what I’m going to be doing because things are a bit in limbo right now,’ Beth admitted, last time we spoke. ‘I’m not trying to be a pain, Leesa, but you’re in the same position. I bet you’ll be grinning and bearing it, wishing you could retire to your office and do something productive.’
She still doesn’t know what happened with Cary, but I’m sure she has a rough picture in her head.
These days I have no idea what’s going on with her because where once I couldn’t shut her up, now she’s very reluctant to talk. She’s hardly ever at home and rarely visits Mum and Dad. Which is why they are trying so hard to pin her down, as they feel her first Christmas after the wedding disaster might be difficult. It hasn’t occurred to them that is true for me, too, because the success of the business has been a cause to celebrate. So, I have no choice other than to fall in with everyone’s plans, once it’s all thrashed out, and make the best of it. Or risk drawing attention to myself about a subject I don’t intend discussing with anyone.
An email alert pops up on the screen and I click on it.
Hey Leesa
I know you are busy tying up some loose ends before the break, but I texted you a name and telephone number about half an hour ago and I notice you haven’t seen it yet? It’s from someone named Matthew and it sounded important. He asked if you would be kind enough to give him a call as soon as you are free. He said he’d be around for about an hour.
Have you heard from Zack yet? I wondered how Abbie was doing.
Tim
Matthew? The only
Matthew I know is Matthew Anderson.
Hi Tim
Thanks for the prompt, I’ll return that call now. Zack rang about an hour ago to say he’s taken his wife to A&E but there’s a long wait. No doubt they will X-ray her ankle and he said he would phone later in the day to let me know what’s happening.
Our office party might have to be postponed, I’m afraid, but we’ll sort something out.
I’ll be in touch later when I know more.
Leesa
Picking up my phone I stare at Tim’s text. The last person on earth I ever expected to have contact with was Matthew. I click on the highlighted number and wait, rather puzzled, to say the least.
‘Matthew speaking.’
‘It’s Leesa, Matthew. How are you?’
My stomach begins to churn. Don’t let this be bad news; please don’t let this be bad news.
‘Ticking over. Thank you for getting back to me and I expect you are a little surprised by my call.’
‘Surprised and delighted, Matthew. You have been in my thoughts and I do hope that things are going well.’
Do I mention Cressida’s name, or would that be the wrong thing to do?
‘I can’t pretend it hasn’t been a traumatic time,’ he admits.
My stomach does an unexpected somersault as I prepare myself for the worst.
‘I don’t really know where to start. I suppose the detail now is superfluous and I should begin with my biggest concern.’
A lump rises up in my throat and my fingers tighten around the phone, poised and waiting.
‘Is it possible to jump in and rescue someone who is too stubborn to admit they have made a mistake?’ Matthew sounds likes he’s about to break down.
Is he talking about Cressida, Cary, or himself?
‘I’m sorry, Matthew, but I don’t understand.’
‘And I’m not surprised, Leesa. It’s such a long story… so much has happened… but I can’t digress. There is a question I need to ask you, but I will fully understand if it’s one you don’t want to answer.’