by Lisa Hill
She couldn’t remember the last time someone had hugged her, apart from the girls.
A man’s hug.
She felt herself welling up again.
Hilary cleared her throat, clearly feeling Louise’s embarrassment. ‘Any more questions?’ she asked.
A few of the audience put their hands up. The meeting continued more calmly than it had before. Tom continued to prop Louise up. She didn’t let go, she knew he was just being emotionally supportive as well as physical. Her mind wandered to her conversation in the pub with Duncan. Perhaps everyone could see what she was only just discovering for herself; she was unhappy and perhaps not with her life, just with Johnnie.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Jack could see Pamela was sitting in the conservatory with a cup of coffee as he and Sky returned down the long, manicured lawn of the Old Rectory. He may have been living with Pamela for over six months now, but he still kept to his habitual morning stroll to tend to Mary’s grave. Life with Pamela had come as such a surprise to him, a welcome surprise, but part of him would always belong to Mary, even if she was no longer here.
‘Penny for them?’ he asked, as he wiped his feet on the conservatory mat. Sky was not so courteous, sliding straight between his legs and through into the kitchen, in search of her water bowl, leaving little, wet paw prints from where the grass had been slightly dewy.
Pamela, deep in thought, looked surprised to see him standing there. ‘Sorry,’ she said, ‘I was miles away.’ She was looking down at an envelope lying unopened on the glass coffee table. ‘It looks official.’
Jack slipped his shoes off and padded across the floor tiles in his socks. Lifting his jeans slightly, he sat down opposite her and leaned forward. ‘Well, you won’t know unless you open it.’
They both looked down at the thick, A4 envelope, with a large, embossed print across the top. In ornate lettering it said Pughes Harrison Esq. While he suspected Pamela was feeling uneasy, his stomach was fizzing with excitement. If this was about her impending divorce from Edward it would mean he could finally get on with asking her to choose an engagement ring. He’d been putting it off, not wanting to propose to a married woman.
Although a nagging thought, which he kept pushing to the back of his mind, was worried that his reluctance to properly get down on one knee was the feeling he was still married to Mary, even if she was no longer here.
‘It’s a bit quick; he must have been awaiting my application.’ Pamela said, momentarily biting her lip. ‘My solicitor only sent my application to the court last week.’
This fizz in his stomach began to make way for a churning sensation.
‘Perhaps Edward’s as eager as you to get it all over and done with?’ he said, sounding more confident that he felt. ‘Best open it and see what the damage is.’ They both knew this was the beginning of a long, stressful process. Edward wasn’t going to give up a penny without a hard fight.
‘Oh Jack, I’m not sure I can! Goodness knows what lies he will have said about me.’
Jack nodded, picking up the envelope up and handing it to her. ‘Way I see it, is that this is the beginning of the end. And you can’t have a new beginning without having an ending, can you?’
Pamela frowned. ‘Jack darling, you do talk in riddles sometimes.’ She tied her floral, dressing gown belt a little tighter around her waist as if trying to protect herself from the contents of the envelope.
‘Well, you and I have decided to get married, haven’t we?’
Her face broke into a beautiful smile. ‘Yes, we have.’ She said, looking like a little girl, so much excitement dancing in her eyes.
‘And we can’t do that without you getting divorced, can we?’
Her smiled dropped. ‘No, we can’t,’ she muttered, looking out of the window, down the garden, towards St Mary’s church. ‘It would be so much easier if I was a widow, like you.’
Jack swallowed hard, thinking that his parting from Mary was as equally painful, if not more.
‘Oh gosh,’ Pamela’s hand flew to her chest, ‘I’m so sorry Jack, I wasn’t trying to compare the two, I—’
‘I know yer weren’t,’ Jack said, wanting to get away from the subject of Mary. ‘Let’s just get this envelope opened and see what we’re facing; we’re busy sitting here worrying about the unknown and, in my opinion, imagination can sometimes be more frightening than reality.’
‘Yes, you’re right.’ She took the envelope and tentatively stuck her pink finger nail in the opening. She hesitated. ‘I can’t,’ she said, thrusting the envelope back at Jack. ‘You’ll have to do it.’
He ripped open the envelope. ‘Ready?’ he asked, lifting the endless pages of paper out.
She took a deep breath and nodded. ‘Ready.’
He turned over the paper and quickly scanned the first page. His stomach and heart sank in unison.
‘What does it say?’
He looked up slowly and tried to decide whether to sugarcoat Edward’s plans. He thought of the analogy of a sticking plaster; take it off slowly and it will hurt for longer or rip it off quick and get the pain over with in one go.
‘Right,’ he said, clearing his throat. ‘Well, in summary…’
‘Oh, get on with it, Jack! It’s not good news, is it?’
‘He’s petitioning you for adultery.’
‘What?!’ Pamela screeched.
***
Louise had been up since three. Johnnie had gone to bed by the time she’d arrived home, so she had quietly slipped into bed and lay wide away thinking about the events of last night. The way Johnnie had walked out of the meeting like a toddler throwing his toys out of his playpen when he couldn’t get his own way. The way the villagers had all ignored his hissy fit and carried on politely, as if nothing had ever happened, with the exception of the odd sympathetic look. Most of all, Duncan’s words had rolled over and over in her mind; a departure from the stores.
By three she was so exhausted from all her overthinking she decided to get up and make an early start on today’s baking. Being in the kitchen, creating things for others to enjoy, gave her an immense amount of satisfaction, but it also gave her the opportunity to confront her thoughts in an abstract kind of way. Some of her best ideas and solutions had come when pummelling the elasticity into dough. Not today, however. This morning, kneading the dough felt like it was Johnnie’s face she was slapping, with every motion of her palm across the steel kitchen worksurface.
‘Ah, there you are.’ Louise looked up from her latest batch of baking – some ciabatta rolls ready for the usual Friday morning run on bacon baps – to see Johnnie casually taking up most of the doorframe to the kitchen; the arc of his back against the wall, one arm resting on the the top of the frame.
‘Yes,’ Louise said waspily, ‘here I am; where else would I be at the crack of dawn every day of the bloody week?’
Johnnie nodded. ‘I came to apologise. I was out of order last night.’
Louise carried on kneading the dough. ‘It’s not me you need to apologise to; it’s half the village, our customers, who you really need to be saying sorry to. Perhaps you could put a sign up in the shop.’ She continued to shape the bread, conscious Johnnie had detached himself from the doorframe and was now walking towards the work surface, in the centre of the kitchen.
‘You’re the most important one, though—’
She could feel him edging closer to her, but she didn’t look up.
‘—you’re the only one who matters. You and the girls.’
Johnnie put his hand out and touched her forearm. She found herself pulling her arm away, pushing the dough down the counter away from him.
‘Louise.’ Johnnie’s voice sounded croaky. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve let this new development occupy my mind so much, I’ve been neglecting you. It’s completely wrong of me—’
He touched her shoulder. This time she didn’t flinch or try to move away.
‘—but I want to put it right. I need to forget about t
he new development.’
Louise stopped kneading and looked up at him to see his eyes were sorrowful, full of remorse. ‘Yes, you do!’ She surprised herself with how angry she sounded. ‘What will come, will come, and we can face that when it does, together, but there needs to be an us if we are going to do it together!’
Where had that come from?
Johnnie nodded, his long, brown locks bobbing frantically up and down. He looked close to tears.
‘Have you considered there might not be an us then?’ He sounded frightened.
Louise rubbed her forehead with the back of one of her flour-dusted hands. ‘I don’t know, Johnnie. All I do know is that the girls are growing up, starting to live their own lives while you run the shop and I run the tearooms. Constantly. It feels like we never have a break, and,’ she rushed on, now in full flow of the things she’d wanted to say for weeks, ‘if I’m completely honest, I’d really like to do something for myself.’
There. There it was. It sounded selfish, but so what? She’d spent a lifetime – her girls’ lifetime anyway – putting other people first. Now it was time to think about herself.
‘Like what?’ Johnnie’s remorse sounded like it had turned to incredulity. ‘You’ve got the tearooms, that’s your thing, isn’t it?’
Louise took a deep breath, determined not to get into another argument. She’d headed down to the kitchen early this morning to wrestle with her inner-thoughts, not battle with Johnnie again.
‘Johnnie,’ she said, firmly. ‘we agreed I would head up the tearooms and you would focus on the shop. Neither of these things fill me with burning passion or desire.’
For a split second an image of Duncan flashed across her mind.
Johnnie’s jaw dropped, and he struggled to compose himself. ‘I thought you liked running the tearooms?’
‘I didn’t say that I don’t, but the girls are beginning to think about pastures new and it’s made me think that I’d like that too.’
‘You want to return to college?’
Louise cocked her head to one side. ‘Maybe.’ She looked up at his confused face. She’d have to tell him some of her plans; she couldn’t just say she was unhappy and then not give some explanation as to why. ‘I think I’d like to explore the cake making and decorating a bit more. Perhaps go to night classes in September, learn a few more techniques.’
Johnnie suddenly looked relieved. ‘Oh, but that’s a wonderful idea!’
‘Is it?’
‘Yes! I so want to expand the wedding catering and the two go hand-in-hand!’
‘Well, not just wedding cakes, I thought, perhaps—’
‘Lou, this is perfect.’ He stepped forward and wrapped her in his arms, squashing her to his face. She allowed it to happen, not sure if she wasn’t embracing him back because she still didn’t know how she felt, or because she had floury hands.
‘Johnnie, I’m not sure you’re listening—’
He let go of her, stepped back and put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Let’s book a holiday!’ he said, looking intensely into her eyes. ‘I didn’t want to tell you until I knew we had the money put by, but the Thorpe’s wedding was pretty lucrative, and the stores have been faring well with drinks and ice cream sales during this hot spell, so we’ve made a little extra there, enough to have a week in Sorrento, anyway.’
‘Sorrento?’ It was where they’d honeymooned.
‘Yes! Audrey’s in again today; when Megan gets back from her last exam, let’s get down the travel agents and see what we can book.’
‘When for?’
‘As soon as possible!’
‘But who will look after the stores?’ They hadn’t a holiday in eight years, this was all happening so fast.
Johnnie tapped the end of his nose. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan.’
What Louise really wanted to know was, why now? So many years, so many excuses of why they couldn’t leave the stores and have a holiday, not even in the winter. So, why all of a sudden could they depart to sunny climes when they were entering one of their most busy periods of the year?
You’re being ungrateful, Louise.
She mustered up a smile. ‘Thank you,’ she said, still not able to bring herself to embrace him.
He took her in his arms again and kissed the top of her head. ‘Just what I need to destress from all this VOCAB crap. They were lucky to have me; good luck to them trying to oppose the development on their own.’
‘Don’t you think there might be a compromise to be had, Johnnie?’ she mumbled into his chest.
‘Pah! What does it matter now, anyway? We’re diversifying into wedding catering; if the stores’ income is affected by another shop in the village, we can focus more on the catering. Your cakes will help too, we’ve got a plan at last, Lou; we can work together again!’
Louise rested her head on Johnnie’s chest and felt her eyes welling up. Not tears of joy, however, more tears of the crushing blow she felt that her little ray of hope – something for herself – had been hijacked. Not only had it been hijacked, but so had she. Most people would be happy for a week in the sun; she was being totally ungrateful.
And at the back of her mind was this nagging feeling that a week away from Clunderton meant a week of not seeing Duncan too. Which, curiously, left her with an overwhelming feeling of loneliness.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
‘Ah, you’re here!’
Rebecca looked up from her desk to see Lottie standing in the archway of the sales office at Hardwickes, just like old times.
‘It looks like you’ve never been away,’ she said, detaching herself from her keyboard. ‘Have you come to tell me we’re not lunching today?’ Lunch between the two women had become a pretty regular thing, unless one of them had a viewing to get to.
‘Yes, still on for that.’ Lottie said, slinking into one of the chairs opposite Rebecca’s desk in a pink shift dress. She looked like a real-life version of Barbie with her perfect hourglass figure, thick, long blonde hair and nude high heels. The old Rebecca would have pointed this out in a condescending manner but the new Rebecca – the post Edward, Rebecca – realised that although not her taste, the way Lottie dressed suited her, it brought out all of her best features. It came as quite a surprise to Rebecca just how much she had come to value their friendship.
‘What can I do for you then?’ Rebecca asked.
‘Well,’ Lottie crossed her legs, ‘we’re now into June and you’re still here, so that’s a good sign.’
‘Sign?’
‘That you’re not going to do a disappearing act after all.’
Rebecca and Lottie spent most of their lunch hours together discussing whether she should leave Harrogate or stay. Since James had suggested that she manage the sales office for the new development in Clunderton – if it went ahead – Rebecca had seriously considered staying. Betty’s cottage in the high street was still available. It was all very tempting. There was only one thing holding her back.
Pamela.
Rebecca folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. ‘It’s like the elephant in the room. James suggested me managing the new development over a week ago, but we haven’t discussed it since. The planning meeting happened with the residents on Thursday and he said it went well, but I can’t really make a decision yet; what if it doesn’t go ahead and I’m stuck in Clunderton, commuting in and out of Harrogate and have to risk coming face-to-face with your mother-in-law at any given moment?’
Lottie looked on patronisingly. ‘She doesn’t lurk in bushes waiting to pounce at any given moment. And you make that commute sound more like Bristol to London every day; it’s only twenty minutes on a day with heavy traffic.’
Rebecca rolled her eyes. ‘Okay, the commute isn’t really such an issue, it’s—’
‘Pamela, I know. Well, I have good news on that front.’
With the exception of Pamela developing sudden dementia and completely forgetting Rebecca had had it off with her husband, she wasn’t su
re what other good news there could be.
Rebecca stared blankly at Lottie waiting for an answer.
Lottie leaned in, her face lighting up with excitement. ‘You better not breathe a word of this to anyone.’
‘Should you really be telling me, then?’
‘Probably not but this is important, to you, anyway.’ Lottie paused and looked over her shoulder. ‘Where is everyone?’
‘All out on viewings. The admin staff are upstairs, and James is up in Drew’s old office.’ It was James’ office now, but Rebecca still called it Drew’s old office as if James’ presence wasn’t permanent and Drew might come back one day to reclaim it.
‘I’m not sure if James knows; Dad told me,’ Lottie whispered. ‘Edward is petitioning Pamela for adultery!’
‘Oh, your poor dad.’ Rebecca surprised herself at her instant reaction. Again, the old Rebecca would have considered what this meant for her. Although, she wasn’t sure how it had any bearing on her anyway.
Lottie’s face took on a pang of anguish. ‘He isn’t happy being named in their divorce, I can tell you, but can’t you see how this changes things for you?’
Rebecca frowned. ‘Not really.’
‘It takes the onus off of you! The blame has shifted; now Pamela’s concerned it won’t look so good if the judge takes Edward’s side in court!’
Rebecca shook her head. ‘But Jack and Pamela aren’t having an affair, they’re just living together.’
‘Yes, but you’re not having a relationship with Edward anymore and apparently the fact you did is irrelevant! In the eyes of the law, anyway,’ Lottie swiftly added.
Rebecca continued to stare at Lottie. Lottie’s eyes darted all over the place as if they were trying to read Rebecca’s expression.
Finally, she started to laugh.
‘What’s so funny?’ asked Lottie.
Rebecca clutched her stomach. ‘It’s not really, but if you’d have said to me even a couple of months ago that my relationship with Edward was irrelevant or insignificant, I’d have burst into tears, but I’m not feeling like that!’ God, this was liberating. ‘I really don’t feel anything! Perhaps I’m finally over him?’ A wave of relief washed over her.