The Break Up: The perfect heartwarming romantic comedy
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The Break Up
The perfect heartwarming romantic comedy
Tilly Tennant
Books by Tilly Tennant
The Garden on Sparrow Street
Hattie’s Home for Broken Hearts
The Mill on Magnolia Lane
The Christmas Wish
The Summer Getaway
The Summer of Secrets
An Unforgettable Christmas Series
A Very Vintage Christmas
A Cosy Candlelit Christmas
From Italy with Love Series
Rome is Where the Heart is
A Wedding in Italy
Honeybourne Series
The Little Village Bakery
Christmas at the Little Village Bakery
Hopelessly Devoted to Holden Finn
The Man Who Can’t Be Moved
Mishaps and Mistletoe
Mishaps in Millrise Series
Little Acts of Love
Just Like Rebecca
The Parent Trap
And Baby Makes Four
Once Upon a Winter Series
The Accidental Guest
I’m Not in Love
Ways to Say Goodbye
One Starry Night
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
The Little Village Bakery
Tilly’s Email Sign-Up
Books by Tilly Tennant
A Letter from Tilly
The Garden on Sparrow Street
Hattie's Home for Broken Hearts
The Mill on Magnolia Lane
The Christmas Wish
The Summer Getaway
The Summer of Secrets
A Very Vintage Christmas
A Cosy Candlelit Christmas
Rome is Where the Heart is
A Wedding in Italy
Christmas at the Little Village Bakery
Acknowledgements
*
For Georgia, Isabelle and Adam
One
From the moment they’d met her, Lucien’s parents had decided that Lara wasn’t good enough for him. According to them, he was better educated, had a better job, was better looking and generally from better stock – whatever that meant. They’d never say that to her face, of course (it would be far too vulgar), but they made sure that their opinions found their way to Lara’s ears somehow, usually via Lucien himself. For her entire twenty-eight years on the planet, Lara had always assumed that in any relationship, the only opinion she’d have to worry about was that of the man she was dating. But in Lucien’s case, if his parents didn’t approve, then neither did he. In time, she’d look back on this chapter of her life and wonder why he’d bothered to stay with her for the year they’d been together.
It wasn’t until this precise moment, sitting across from him in the wanky jazz bar he loved so much, that Lara had seen fit to question why she put up with it. God, she hated jazz, almost as much as she hated Lucien’s stuck-up parents and his pretentious friends. But she was doing her best not to think about these things as she tried hard to concentrate on what he was explaining in an unreasonably loud voice while simultaneously resisting the urge to punch him in the face. The trumpet wasn’t helping. Still, she tried to listen to Lucien because it was important, though her brain wouldn’t compute the facts. It sounded like he was dumping her. But surely he wouldn’t do that, out of the blue like this…?
‘And don’t get me wrong, I’ve had a great time with you,’ he continued. ‘But it’s never really been going anywhere, has it?’
Lara shook her head in an attempt to clear it. As far as she’d been concerned it had been going somewhere, even if she couldn’t be certain exactly where. You didn’t put up with Lucien’s mother silently criticising your hair with a distasteful twist of her Botoxed lips unless you felt some serious commitment to the relationship.
If he says: ‘It’s not you, it’s me…’
‘The thing you’ve got to take from this is that no blame lies with you,’ he said. ‘It’s not you, it’s—’
Lara stood up, ignoring the look of surprise on Lucien’s face. She reached for the pint of ridiculously named ale currently sitting on the table in front of him and tipped it over his head. There was something massively satisfying about his gormless look of shock, and even more satisfying about the way the ale dripped onto his £200 jacket. She turned, outwardly calm, although her emotions were anything but, and headed for the door. Inside she was fuming, raging, hurt and humiliated, but she’d never give Lucien the satisfaction of seeing any of that. She left the bar, noise from a keyboard that was almost as dreadful as the strangled trumpet ringing in her ears.
Outside, the night was heavy and the air smelt of thunder. It had been like that all day, sultry and stormy, but so far the weather had held. Lara took a deep breath and pulled her shoulders back as she stepped out onto the pavement. She didn’t rush away and she didn’t cry because the last thing she wanted was for someone to see her and for it to get back to Lucien. Instead, she started to walk, with as much dignity and outward calm as she could muster. At least he wouldn’t be chasing after her right now; he’d be far too busy trying to salvage his perfect hair in the toilets and washing the beer from the designer jacket that she’d once joked he loved so much he ought to date it instead of her. Lara was probably the last thing on his mind right now and she was damned if she was going to cry over such a selfish bastard.
Instead, with shaking hands, she pulled her mobile phone from her handbag and dialled Siobhan’s number. Her friend answered on the second ring.
‘Wow, that was fast,’ Lara said. ‘Did you know I was going to call or something?’
‘Of course not,’ Siobhan said. ‘How are you?’
‘I’ve been better.’
‘Oh…’ Siobhan replied hesitantly. Lara frowned at the unexpectedly reticent tone from her friend. ‘What’s wrong?’
If Lara hadn’t known better, she might have said her friend sounded faintly uneasy. But there was no reason on earth why that should be, was there?
‘Is everything OK?’ Siobhan continued into the gap. ‘Weren’t you meant to be seeing Lucien tonight?’
‘I did, and he took the opportunity to dump me.’
‘Oh, Lara…’
‘I feel like such an idiot. Mainly because I’ve spent so long trying to please his bloody parents, trying to be the sort of girlfriend I thought he wanted me to be. And for what? I should never have compromised myself like that – I don’t even know why I did. I should have been myself and done what I wanted.’
Lara grimaced as she stumbled into a stale old puddle on the street, soaking her tights. ‘Perhaps he would have liked me better in the end if I’d just been myself; perhaps that was where I went wrong. I shouldn’t have been trying to please everyone else; I should have been pleasing myself.’
‘It’s not your fault – you can’t beat yourself up over it.’
‘I’m not – though I’d like to beat him up over it.’
‘So what did he say exactly?’
&nb
sp; ‘Some bullshit about incompatibility, different backgrounds, different prospects, fun while it lasted… the usual lame stuff.’
‘Right.’
Lara paused. ‘I have to say, you don’t sound very shocked by any of this.’
‘Well, you’ve pointed out your differences so many times, it seemed…’ Siobhan’s sentence trailed off.
‘Inevitable?’ Lara finished bitterly.
‘Did he tell you anything else?’
‘I don’t know what else there is to tell. He wanted to end it – there’s not a lot I can do about it even if I did get more of a reason than that. Though I’m not buying any of it – I absolutely think there’s something he’s not telling me.’
‘Like what?’
‘I don’t know – like his precious mother put him up to it.’
‘Oh,’ Siobhan said. ‘I expect that’s it. You’ve always said she hated you.’
‘Well, she did, but I can’t help feeling that it’s funny she didn’t do anything about it before now. We’ve been together for a year after all, and she’s had plenty of time to stick the knife well and truly in before now. Apart from the constant snide criticisms, of course, but you can’t count those because she does that to everyone.’
‘Maybe she thought it would fizzle out by itself.’
‘I suppose that could be it.’
Lara was silent for a moment, her steps brisk as the traffic whizzed by her and a couple of drunks rolled out the doors of a nearby pub, shouting at each other as if they were conversing five miles apart, not five inches.
‘Either that or he’s seeing someone else and he hasn’t the guts to tell me,’ she added. ‘That would be about right.’
Lara paused again as the idea solidified. ‘I’ll bet that’s it. Bastard.’
There was a strange and charged silence on the line, and then Siobhan spoke and it was not what Lara had expected at all.
‘I can’t do this,’ she said miserably.
Lara frowned, her pace slowing as she puzzled at her friend’s change of tone. ‘What’s the matter? Has something happened your end? God, I’m so sorry, and here’s me blathering on about that twat—’
‘It’s not that,’ Siobhan said. ‘It’s… I wanted to tell you so many times before, and I said to Lucien that we ought to, but he wanted to do it when the time was right and now I know I should have done it—’
‘What are you talking about?’ Lara asked, feeling like iced water had suddenly been poured over her. ‘I don’t—’
‘Me and Lucien,’ Siobhan said. ‘I know it’s just a horrible thing to do but we couldn’t help it… I mean, you must understand, if it could have been any other way… And we fought it but… well… you can’t help who you fall in love with, can you?’
‘You?’ Lara spluttered. ‘And Lucien?’
‘I know,’ Siobhan said. ‘I’m so sorry, Lara. I do hope it doesn’t come between us—’
‘Doesn’t come between us? It’s hardly going to bring us closer, is it?’
‘Oh, see, I told Lucien to handle it carefully; I knew you’d take it badly.’
‘Take it badly?’ Lara squeaked again in a voice now almost as grating as the trumpet she’d just left playing in the club. ‘Take it badly? What did you expect?’
‘I don’t know. I feel just terrible.’
‘That’s a shame, because I feel just dandy about it all.’
‘Oh, Lara, if it could have been any other way…’
‘There are plenty of other ways it could have been,’ Lara said coldly. ‘All it would have taken was some self-restraint. Lucien… perhaps I can believe that self-restraint is hard to come by in that quarter, but you… I thought you were capable of better things than this. I thought our friendship meant something to you.’
‘It does!’
‘If I wasn’t so absolutely broken right now I’d go back and kick him in the balls, and then I’d come to your house and smash all your windows. However…’ Lara drew a breath. ‘I don’t have the strength. I hope you’re very happy together and if you’re not then you’ve both got what you deserved.’
‘But, Lara—’
Lara ended the call and put her phone away. Don’t cry; don’t cry…
It was easier to tell herself not to cry than to do it. It had also been easier not to cry over Lucien than it was over Siobhan. She could feel indignant about Lucien, or she could tell herself that in the end he would see that the loss was all his, but Siobhan… The slice of his blade had come keen, but Siobhan’s follow-up had felt almost mortal. How could Siobhan, her best friend in the world, do this to her? She’d known how hard Lara had worked at this relationship, been privy to every twist and turn, witness to every up and down, been there making sympathetic noises as Lara complained and cried and tried (always failing, it seemed) to get it right. She’d been Lara’s confidante for many others too – fifteen years’ worth in fact. They’d shared hopes and dreams, laughter and tears and a lot of pain in that time.
But apparently fifteen years of friendship meant a lot more to Lara than it did to Siobhan. And all this time Lara had never even considered that Siobhan might be attracted to Lucien. More than attracted, as it turned out – interested enough to destroy everything they had as friends so she could be with him.
When Lara thought about all the things she’d done for Siobhan over the years, how she and her family had saved her, how they’d become more than friends and closer to sisters (or so Lara had thought), the knife twisted in just that little bit deeper. It just went to show that it didn’t matter how well you thought you knew your best friend, you never quite knew the whole of them.
Lara thought all this as her determined march home turned into a dejected limp. She didn’t know how she could possibly feel any more miserable and wretched than she already did, but then it seemed the weather wanted to get in on the act and challenge that. As if her night wasn’t bad enough, a perfectly timed rumble of thunder rolled across the heavens, swiftly followed by fat drops of rain, falling faster and faster by the second.
At least nobody would notice if she cried now, she thought dully.
She stuck out an arm for a passing taxi, but it didn’t stop. She hadn’t really expected it to – unoccupied taxis on a Friday night in Chester were as rare as Lucien’s bad-hair days. The only thing to do was walk. If she caught pneumonia and died, that would round off the evening nicely.
Twenty minutes later she was home, dripping wet, letting herself into her Victorian town house. Tossing her keys onto the kitchen worktop, she kicked her sodden shoes off at the back door, where they slammed against the wall before landing in a heap on the mat. They were quickly joined by her wet clothes. It could all stay there forever as far as she was concerned because she wasn’t in the mood to pick any of it up. Dressed in only her damp underwear, she marched through to the bedroom to find something dry to put on.
On the way, she caught sight of herself in the antique mirror hanging in the hallway. Lucien had been with her when she’d bought it from a flea market and he’d absolutely hated every minute of the hours Lara had begged him to walk round it with her. Had she been unreasonable? Perhaps she had that day, although at the time it hadn’t seemed like it. Had she been a bad girlfriend? Was that why he’d turned to Siobhan? They’d always seemed to get on well whenever they’d come into contact with each other but Lara had always assumed that they’d made an effort to get along for her sake. Had she really been that blind?
She stopped and stared at her bedraggled reflection. Perhaps, in the end, it hadn’t even been that complicated. Her hair was a sort of ash blonde, whereas Siobhan’s was far more golden. Longer too, with a natural wave that made it look impossibly glamorous, even when she didn’t try. And her eyes were the colour of the Aegean Sea. Lara’s were a sort of brownish green, and in some lights they looked like no colour anyone could name. Less Aegean Sea and more sewage outlet.
She let out a sigh as her gaze travelled to the rest of her. Slim enough,
she supposed, but nothing about her athletic and rather nondescript figure screamed goddess. Not like Siobhan, who would wiggle her way into the local gym and have every guy in there slobbering over their weights.
Of course Lucien would have his head turned by someone like her, but what really hurt was that Siobhan had let it happen. She and Lara had been friends since high school, and you didn’t treat that sort of friendship lightly no matter what man tried to come between you. They’d both been there for the other’s darkest hours – there had been more than enough bad boyfriends between them but they’d always got each other through every single one of the break-ups. Lara never imagined that a boyfriend would be the thing to finally break them apart.
She sighed. The fact was, even though she wanted to blame Siobhan – might even want to hate her – she couldn’t. Lara and Lucien – it was never going to work in the long run, and even though Lara had let the relationship continue, had even enjoyed it, she had to admit that she could see the inevitable truth now. But though she might have expected it to fizzle out, she’d never expected it to end like this. Maybe they’d have got bored, his parents would finally have persuaded him to give her the elbow, found him a respectable replacement from the glut of well-connected friends’ daughters at the golf club… but Lucien and Siobhan?