by Karen Clarke
‘Who’s talking about me?’
We swung around to see Jane approaching, limping slightly (her sprained ankle, I hoped), in canvas shorts that revealed knees like turnips. Her face was a mask of delight as she took in the sight of Ruby.
‘Look at you, you grumpy old cow!’ She punched Ruby’s upper arm with surprising force. ‘I thought I’d better come back after all, to help with the wedding, but it looks like I’m not needed.’
‘You’re always needed, you daft old bat.’ Ruby grabbed Jane in a headlock and ruffled her hair into an even bigger frizz. ‘Not that there is a wedding any more.’
‘What?’ Jane broke free, her glasses at a crazy angle. She gave me a fierce glare. ‘What did you say to put them off?’
‘She didn’t say anything, you dozy mare.’ Ruby gave her a playful shove. ‘They just couldn’t bear the thought of you turning up in your wellies.’
Jane stuck her tongue out, and Ruby thumbed her nose back. They were like a pair of teenage boys, and it suddenly made perfect sense that they didn’t discuss their personal lives in detail.
‘How was your break?’ I asked Jane, before she could ask me anything else about the cancelled flower booking.
‘Not over, if you’re sure you can manage without me until Monday.’ She removed her glasses, peering blindly as she polished them on the hem of her baggy vest top. ‘Let’s just say, I haven’t quite finished with Dennis.’
‘I suppose you’ve got him putting up shelves, poor bugger,’ Ruby said, shifting to attend to a customer, who’d gathered an armful of irises (warmth and affection) and gypsophila (baby’s breath) and clearly didn’t know what to do with them.
Jane replaced her glasses. ‘I’ll have him putting up something,’ she said to me, eyes glinting.
‘That doesn’t even make sense.’
‘He’s lost five pounds, you know, and my thighs are like jelly. I think it’s safe to say our marriage is back on track.’
‘That’s…’ gross ‘… amazing,’ I said queasily. ‘And I really am sorry about the wedding.’
She scrunched up her face, then smiled. ‘Listen, you got your aunt back,’ she said kindly. ‘That’s all that really matters.’
Not if you don’t get more money coming in, it isn’t.
As she left with a backwards wave, my mind churned with all the things that were still undone, and when Ruby touched my arm, I jumped. ‘Go on,’ she said. ‘I promise you, I’m fine now.’ She looked suddenly traumatised. ‘God, Carrie, I owe you so much. I don’t deserve you. I’ve been the worst aunt in the world.’
‘What? Don’t be silly.’ I leaned over to kiss her soft cheek. ‘I think I just need a little lie-down, that’s all.’
Her hand flew to her forehead. ‘I’d ordered a load of jam jars for the table decorations,’ she said. ‘They might turn up this afternoon. I don’t know what I’m going to do with them all.’
‘I’ll pay for them,’ I said, wishing I’d thought to ask Megan for a deposit in the first place.
Ruby’s eyebrows squashed together. ‘You’ll do no such thing,’ she scolded. ‘Now, away with you.’
I couldn’t muster an argument, and left her there, feeling the weight of her worried eyes on my back as I headed up Main Street.
The light in the flat was different in the middle of the day, poking into the corners of the living room, picking out the odd cobweb Doris had missed on her purge.
I knew I should call Jasmine, or even start packing to go home. Instead I stared out of the window, hands cupping my elbows, feeling as insubstantial as a ghost.
Megan’s face zoomed into my head, withered and contorted like a witch’s mask. I wished Tom could have seen her at the café – heard the things she’d said.
I wandered into the bedroom and lay on the bed and, burying my head in the pillow, I cried until my eyes felt broken, before tumbling into a deep sleep.
It was still light when I woke, but the sun had moved, casting a rectangle of light on the opposite wall. I’d tunnelled under the duvet at some point and now threw it off, feeling sticky and hung over.
Ruby was in the kitchen, clattering crockery and softly singing ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’.
I must have slept all afternoon.
My bladder felt fit to burst, and I staggered to the bathroom like a drunk. After relieving myself, I splashed my face with cold water, recoiling from my reflection in the mirror. My hair had risen like a giant Yorkshire pudding, and my eyelids looked stitched together. I splashed on some more water in an effort to repair the damage, then straightened my bed-rumpled clothes and headed to the kitchen to tell Ruby I’d be leaving first thing tomorrow.
‘There you are, sleepyhead.’ She danced over to gather me in yet another heartfelt hug, her hand cupping my head. I’d never been cuddled so much, and it felt nice to sink into her. ‘Feeling better?’ she said.
Not really. ‘A bit. I didn’t mean to sleep so long.’ Over her shoulder, I spotted a plate, heaped with golden, buttered toast, and a steaming pot of tea beside two mugs.
Pulling back, I saw she’d got changed into loose red trousers and a short-sleeved top patterned with embroidered roses. ‘Sorry, I should have cooked dinner,’ I said.
‘Dinner?’ Her eyes danced. ‘It’s breakfast time, sweetheart,’ she said. ‘You slept all night.’
‘What?’
She gave a gurgling laugh at my shocked expression. ‘You were dead to the world when I got home, and I couldn’t bear to disturb you.’ Her face coloured. ‘Bob went and got fish and chips and we ate them in front of the telly, and I told him all about Kate.’
‘I can’t believe it.’ So much for leaving first thing.
‘I know,’ she said. ‘I’ve gone from keeping my past a secret, to telling anyone who’ll listen. It feels liberating.’ She pressed a palm to her cheek. ‘I wish I’d done it years ago.’
‘I meant, I can’t believe I slept all night, but that’s good,’ I said.
‘You must have needed it.’ She patted my arm. ‘Now, clear a space at the table and I’ll bring your breakfast over.’
There was an open box of jam jars in the centre, nestled in a bed of straw.
‘I didn’t even hear the delivery man,’ I said, still stunned that I’d slept so long. I didn’t even feel refreshed.
‘He left them outside the door.’ Ruby picked up her things, and took a bite of toast. ‘I’m off to the stall now,’ she said. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing your mum and dad later.’ I’d forgotten they were coming. ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ She paused in the doorway, and I realised I’d taken out a jam jar and was staring into it, as if it held the answer to the meaning of life.
‘I’m fine.’ I forced a smile. ‘Just imagining how pretty these would have looked filled with flowers.’ Great. Now I’d reminded myself about the wedding.
‘Maybe I’ll do a display for the flower stall,’ she said. ‘Bring some down later, if you like.’
‘OK.’
Once she’d left, I found my phone and saw a couple of messages. Mum and Dad were arriving late afternoon, and suggested I find a guest house for them to stay in.
So you don’t have to go home right away xx
They’d be lucky to get a room at this time of year. Ruby would no doubt offer them her bed, and I’d head back to Manchester once they arrived.
Jasmine had texted hundreds of question marks and I quickly replied,
Home tonight, will explain all then x
Teaseshe responded, which meant she’d been waiting for a reply. She wouldn’t normally be up this early if she wasn’t teaching.
Vinnie’s helping me tile the wall in the kitchen, decided to go for black.
Black?
Joke!! Sticking with custard yellow.
She could coat the walls with custard, for all it mattered. I was still having difficulty imagining slotting back into my old life.
‘You’ll be fine when you get there,’ I said aloud, and began folding my clothes into bag
s. I hadn’t realised how at home I’d made myself, finding a place for my things in the cluttered room, and as I returned Ruby’s wedges to her shoe cupboard, another layer of sadness settled over me.
I had a quick tidy round, in anticipation of my parents’ arrival, and by midday the flat was spotless. There was nothing left to distract me from thinking about the preparations that would be taking place at Hudson Grange, for tomorrow’s wedding. No doubt Jay Simmons was swanning about, transforming the garden and house into a flowery wonderland.
Bastard.
I pictured Tom, looking devastatingly handsome in a smoke-grey suit and tie, watching Megan drift towards him in a lavishly embellished wedding dress. Then I thought about Hovis, banished from the ceremony because of Megan’s allergy (if it even existed), whimpering for his master.
I couldn’t bear it.
I slammed out of the flat and headed to the square, past groups of meandering tourists, and Mr Flannery loitering on the step of his shop, to the stall.
Ruby was talking on the phone, a cluster of sweet peas in her hand. ‘That was Mr Hudson,’ she said by way of a greeting, putting the phone down when she’d finished.
I tried not to betray the surge of feeling hearing his name provoked. ‘What did he want?’
She gave a baffled shake of her head. ‘Well, initially to apologise for the flowers being cancelled, which he assured me wasn’t his doing.’
‘It wasn’t,’ I confirmed, heart pattering a little faster.
‘He’s offered to pay in full, and said he’ll swing by later with a cheque.’
Something inside me lifted a little. ‘That’s very decent of him.’
‘Isn’t it?’ She brought the sweet peas to her nose and absently sniffed them. ‘He also said he’s planning to host a wedding fair at Hudson Grange next month, and asked if I’d liked to set up a stall there.’
‘Wow, that’s nice.’ I wondered why he was phoning today, with all the preparations that must be going on.
‘He sounds lovely,’ she said, looking puzzled. ‘Not at all like I’d imagined he would be, from what I’ve heard. Although Jane thinks he’s marvellous.’
‘I know.’
‘Everything’s looking up since you came here, Carrie.’ Emotional again, she put down the flowers. Worried she was moving in for more hugging, knowing it would set me off crying if she did, I bent and rearranged some asters, accidentally dislodging a couple of petals.
‘It sounded like he had his hands full,’ Ruby said, as if she’d just remembered. ‘He was having to phone round and tell people the wedding was off.’
I stood up so fast I got a head rush. ‘What did you say?’
‘Apparently, the wedding’s off.’ Her eyes grew large, as understanding dawned. ‘Oh, Carrie, does this mean that Tom… that you and him?’ She blinked. ‘Carrie, what does it mean?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said. I was breathing too fast and everything looked brighter, as if someone had injected me with a mood-altering substance. ‘It might not mean anything.’
Ruby seized my hands. ‘Then don’t you think you should find out?’
Chapter Thirty-Six
I ran to my car, Ruby’s words ringing in my ears.
The wedding was off.
Questions clawed my brain. Had Megan developed a conscience and told Tom the truth? It seemed unlikely, considering her glittery-eyed vehemence the day before.
Which meant Tom had ended things. But why, when Megan had been at pains to tell me how close they’d grown after the night at the restaurant? What could have changed his mind so close to the big day?
And why hadn’t I heard from him? Or was I being presumptuous, assuming events had anything to do with me?
Maybe he’d somehow found out that Megan wasn’t pregnant. But how?
What if he was ill, or had been in an accident?
Unable to bear not knowing, even if I ended up making a fool of myself, I decided to drive over to the vet’s to see if he was there.
‘This is stupid,’ I said to the flower-pups, eyeing me wonkily in the rear-view mirror as I headed to Nightingale Lane. ‘He’s probably not even working today, not when his wedding’s been called off.’ Bride-pup seemed to cock a sympathetic ear, but it was only the effect of me taking a corner too fast. ‘Anyway, I’m probably the last person he wants to see.’ Groom-pup appeared to concede I had a point. ‘Thanks a lot,’ I huffed. ‘What would you know? You’re made of flowers and they’re not even real.’ He seemed offended. ‘OK, I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.’
This was madness. I was talking to an inanimate object on my way to see a man who probably wasn’t in the mood for visitors, and I had no idea what I was going to say when I got there.
It reminded me of the night of Tom’s twenty-first. I was even rehearsing opening lines in my head.
‘Tom, I’ve just heard the news, I’m so sorry…’
‘Aunt Ruby had a call from your father, and mentioned the wedding’s been cancelled…’
‘Tom, if you ever need to talk…’
Oh, sod it, I’d play it by ear when I got there.
I lowered the window, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth to a count of eight, which is what Jasmine would have advised. It wouldn’t do to burst in – was I really planning to burst in? – looking demented.
As I turned into Nightingale Lane and slowed outside the primary school, I spotted Tom’s Land Rover in the small parking area at the vet’s.
My heart-rate tripled.
I’d half expected him to be at Hudson Grange, appeasing his father and handling Megan, but I knew when things were tough he’d find solace at work.
I quickly checked my appearance in the mirror. My hair was bigger than I’d have liked and my eyes were slitty, and I was wearing the clothes I’d slept in, but there was nothing I could do about that.
‘He won’t notice,’ I said to the flower-pups. ‘Stop looking at me like that.’
I stepped out of the car and froze.
Megan had emerged from the vet’s and was hurrying towards me.
Her head was down, her hair up in a bun, her eyes shielded by sunglasses. Her outfit looked thrown on – white sneakers with ripped white jeans, and a thin, blue, zip-up cardigan. She had a cardboard box tucked under one arm, her handbag over the other, and wasn’t looking where she was going.
The temptation to dive into my car and hide was overwhelming, but she was almost in front of me, and sensing this would be my last opportunity to speak to her, I said, ‘Hello, Megan.’
It was hardly a ground-breaking opener, but it had the effect of stopping her in her tracks. ‘Oh, it’s you.’ She shimmied her bag onto her shoulder and took off her shades. Her gaze dug into me like barbed wire. ‘Bad news travels fast.’
‘I was just…’ I gestured vaguely, heat flooding my cheeks as I realised how it looked.
‘Rushing to console him?’ Her mouth twisted in a smirk. ‘He’s in bits in there,’ she said. ‘I was just picking up some of my stuff.’ She indicated the box under her arm. ‘Some of the underwear he bought me for my birthday.’
I didn’t respond. I knew she wasn’t going to tell me what had happened, and I wasn’t going to ask. Apart from anything, I didn’t trust her to tell the truth.
‘You’re leaving Shipley?’
She elevated an eyebrow. ‘Jay offered me a job a while back, not that it’s any of your business. He’s hoping to expand abroad,’ she said, as though it was normal to be considering a career change when her cherished wedding plans had just gone up in smoke.
‘Will you go?’
She slipped her sunglasses back on so I couldn’t see her eyes – only my rumpled reflection. ‘Why not?’ she said, with an airiness that wasn’t even forced.
‘And what about Tom?’
She hunched a shoulder. ‘You win some, you lose some,’ she said, adjusting her bag. ‘I gave it my best shot, it didn’t work out, so…’ Another shrug. ‘Time to move on.’
I goggled, partly in awe at her ability to reshape her life in an instant, but mostly in horror at how little she appeared to care about what she’d done. Had it all been a game, but now the cards were on the table she was content to throw in her hand?
Or was it all an act?
‘Maybe you should go to Canada and make peace with your father, and get to know your half-siblings.’ I hadn’t meant to say that. I’d intended to bring her to task for being a scheming bitch, and to tell her she deserved to be miserable for the next ten years. Clearly, my brain had other ideas, as I added, ‘I don’t think you’ll ever be happy until you love yourself.’
Her smirk sagged.
A weighty silence swelled.
The sun beat down. Gentle birdsong in an overhanging tree competed with the distant chime of an ice-cream van. It seemed almost obscene that the day was so determinedly bright. Thunderbolts and zigzag lightning would have been more fitting.
‘He doesn’t want you, you know.’ Megan’s chin lifted, and I detected a tiny quiver in her lower lip. ‘He blames you for bringing things to a head.’
As her words burrowed in, my heart shrank.
‘Think about it,’ she said, gaining ground. ‘If he cared, wouldn’t he have spoken to you by now?’
I stayed silent, not knowing what to say.
‘I guess this is goodbye, then.’ She was more cheerful now, as if sensing her barb had landed where it hurt. Raising her sunglasses, she looked at my hair as though it was crawling with lice. ‘I hope I never set eyes on you again.’
I finally found some words, knowing they wouldn’t be what she wanted to hear.
‘Goodbye, Megan. I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.’
Before she could retaliate, I got into my car and drove slowly down the road, watching her in the wing mirror. She grew smaller, and looked a little forlorn with her box and her bag, her bun tilting to one side, and despite everything, I felt a bit sorry for her.
Then she spun around and stalked to her car, which I’d failed to notice earlier, and threw her things inside.