‘Late night?’
‘Early hours,’ he tells me.
‘Schmoozing?’
‘Dating,’ he counters. ‘A guy I met online.’
‘Hopeful?’
He shrugs. ‘Yeah. Maybe. For now.’
‘Don’t sound too enthusiastic.’
‘He was nice,’ Bill adds. ‘We had fun.’
‘I want you to find someone to love,’ I tell him.
‘I don’t have time for love.’ Bill pushes himself out of my sofa and comes to kiss the top of my head. ‘I’ll leave you too it. Shout if you need any more details or input. I’m in most of the day.’
‘Thanks, Bill.’ We exchange a smile. ‘For everything.’
Chapter Seventy-One
I try to concentrate on my work, but fail. My mind keeps drifting to Cockleshell Bay, to Ned. I wonder what Marilyn is doing now. She’ll be missing the work and having someone to fuss over but, knowing Bill, he’ll still be paying her. I hope the weather is good so that George isn’t out being a living statue in the rain. I hope Ida has got a new coffee machine and is less cranky.
I sit and look out of the glass box of my office, feeling as if I’m in someone else’s life. It will take a few days, a few weeks, maybe even a few months, to get back to it.
Before I hit the pile of documents that Bill has sent to my computer, I pick up my mobile and call Della.
‘Chummie,’ she says. ‘Where are you? Back in the land of the living?’
‘Yeah. Yesterday.’
‘You came home with Chris then? He wasn’t sure that you would.’
‘Me neither.’
‘Is all well between you?’
‘That might be stretching it a bit,’ I say. ‘But we’re working on it. I was calling to see if you’re hitting the gym at lunchtime.’
‘Yeah,’ she says. ‘Why not?’
‘OK. I’ll see you there. One-ish?’
‘Sounds good to me. Got to dash. Laters.’
I hang up and smile. I’ve missed Della too. She’s always so energetic and so upbeat, she never fails to cheer me up. I can’t wait to see her again at lunchtime – a bright spot in my day.
So I drag my mind from its reverie and work meticulously through the papers for our meeting next week with the eco-hotel people, wanting to make sure that I’m up to speed and can support Bill. I jot down some ideas that I can flesh out later. This is a very exciting project and I’m glad that my brother trusts me to be part of it. Eventually, the company are looking to roll out hotels across the country and abroad, so it’s a big deal for us.
The alarm on my phone goes off just before one which gives me time to grab my gym bag and head out to meet Della.
‘Back in an hour,’ I shout to Bill as I pass his office.
‘You’re liking the project?’ he shouts back.
‘Love it!’ Then I’m out of here and dash down the street to the gym that’s virtually equidistant between my office and Della’s.
I quickly change and head for the exercise bikes where we always warm up. There’s a bank of them that face a huge window overlooking the street. They’re nearly all occupied, but Della is already pedalling away and the one next to her is free.
‘Hey,’ I say when I get to her.
She stops her machine and comes to hug me. ‘I’m not sweaty yet. Just started.’
‘I’m out of practice,’ I say.
‘It’ll be like riding a bike,’ she assures me and we both giggle. Then she holds me away from her and scrutinises me. ‘Looking good, girlfriend! The seaside clearly suits you.’
I realise that I’ve really missed my best friend. Della always knows the right thing to do, the right thing to say. ‘I wish you could have been with me. It’s lovely over there. Bill’s boat is amazing and the location is beautiful.’
‘But it’s England,’ she pouts. ‘I only do exotic locations. If you’d gone to Bali, I would have been straight on a plane.’
‘Chris said pretty much the same,’ I say. ‘You should both try it. You might be surprised.’ But, in truth, I’m not entirely sure that the Isle of Wight would suit Della or my husband at all.
‘I’ve not got long,’ Della says. ‘We’d better get at it. You have no idea how many people I had to scare off to keep this bike free.’
So we climb onto the bikes together and begin our usual routine. If I come here in the evening, which I do occasionally, I’ll do some weights or maybe a spin class too. However, at lunchtimes, Della and I just do the bikes then the treadmills so that we can catch up on our gossip. Chris insists that we can’t be exercising properly if we’ve got time to chat so much, but it works for us. Most people here just stick in their earphones and block out everyone else.
I try not to think of my long walks on the beach or my yoga sessions with Ned, the sun on my back, the endless sky and sand on my feet. Instead, I pedal furiously.
‘Is Chris glad to have you back?’ Della asks a little breathlessly.
‘I assume so. He wouldn’t have come out to ask me to return home if he wasn’t.’
‘Were you surprised that he came out there?’
‘Yes.’ I think of our embarrassing reunion and how Ned walked in unexpectedly too. I’m not going to share that with Della though. It feels wrong.
‘What did he say?’ she asks.
‘Not too much, so far. We need to sit and talk but we’re both putting it off.’
‘Did he beg? Swear undying love?’
‘Kind of.’ I don’t know why I’m being so cagey with my answers. Perhaps because I think I’ll cry if I start divulging too much. ‘I’m glad you told him where I was – I think. It’s brought things to a head.’
‘I didn’t have much choice,’ my friend says. ‘He forced it out of me.’
‘Well, I’m back now.’
She glances sideways at me, puffing away. ‘Did you ever ask him whether he’d been seeing anyone else?’
‘Not directly. We’re both shying away from it. I’m still sure he has, though. And, let’s face it, he could have been up to anything while I’ve been away. I’m sure Meg would have been happy to comfort him.’ Della knows exactly what I think of Chris’s colleague.
She rolls her eyes sympathetically and says, ‘Cow.’
Yet, it also makes me think about my own night with Ned. I wasn’t exactly blameless when I was away and am glad that my face is reddened from cycling as it hides the flush of pleasure that I feel. It doesn’t take much and I’m back there imagining his body above me, his mouth, his hands, on me.
‘I’m sure Chris was a good boy,’ Della pants.
I snap my attention back. ‘I don’t know. You might be right.’ Though I have my nagging doubts. ‘He tried very hard when we got home. We had quite a romantic evening at Night Owl.’
‘Oh.’ For some reason Della sounds a little bit put out. ‘That sounds nice. I didn’t know he was the romantic type.’
‘You know Chris well enough by now,’ I say. ‘He’s not normally. But I think he’s prepared to give our marriage our best shot. I am too.’
‘We should go out one night, hit the bars, go crazy,’ Della says, huffing and puffing like a steam train as she pedals faster. ‘To celebrate the return of my best Chummie. This week?’
‘Maybe. I’ve got a lot to catch up on. I can see me pulling a few late nights. I’m going down to the New Forest with Bill to look at an important project next week. It’ll be full-on and I want to make sure I’m up to speed.’
‘I’m kind of busy too,’ she admits. ‘Another time, then. Soon, though.’
‘Yes. Definitely.’
‘Lunchtime torture same time tomorrow?’
I nod. ‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world.’
So we spend another fifteen minutes on the exercise bikes while Della tells me about work and how she hooked up with a couple of guys on Tinder in the last few days. We laugh at the disastrous outcomes of both of them.
‘One guy only wanted to use the back do
or,’ she says widening her eyes. ‘First date. Cheeky bastard.’
‘You’re kidding me.’ I look at her, scandalised.
‘I wish. There are some real weirdos out there.’
‘You didn’t let him?’
‘Of course not. What do you take me for? Told him to jog on. And when he’d jogged on, jog on a bit more.’
‘You’re terrible,’ I tell her. ‘But you should be careful. You don’t even know these men. They could be axe murderers.’
‘They’re all just after sex. But I can’t complain. It’s not as if I’m looking for a husband on there. I like getting low down and dirty with strangers. Even the rubbish ones add variety,’ she laughs. ‘What can I say?’
I think of my night at the festival with Ned and how tender and caring it was. I’m not ready to confide in Della yet. It’s too soon, too raw.
‘You don’t think you’ll ever settle down?’
‘Nah. You wait, when I meet the man of my dreams he’s bound to be hooked up with someone else or be gay. When you get to my age, they all come with baggage.’
‘Love is never straightforward.’
‘Ain’t that the truth, sister?’
‘You’ve never met anyone you really liked?’
‘Not on there. But there’s someone.’
‘Oh, yeah. Who?’
‘It’s complicated,’ she says with a puff of breath. ‘Of course it is.’
‘Where did you meet him?’
‘I can’t even be arsed to talk about it,’ Della is dismissive. ‘It’s all too annoying. Let’s ditch the bikes and punish ourselves on the treadmill for a bit.’
‘OK.’ So I let the subject drop. If it goes anywhere, Della will tell me in her own sweet time. She’s rubbish at keeping secrets, so I’ll get it out of her at some point.
Then she ups a gear on the treadmill, pounding away as if she’s running the London Marathon, and I can’t keep up with her and talk at the same time.
When we’re in the shower, after our session, I think that I am lucky to have Chris. We’ve been through a terrible time and, if I’m honest, neither of us has handled it well. If we both want to though, we might well just weather the storm. I vow to make more effort to get our relationship back on track. I get a sudden rush of affection for my husband. I need to put Ned out of my mind and concentrate only on going forward. My marriage can survive this if I try hard enough.
After I’ve towelled myself down, I text Chris. I love you. J xx
But he doesn’t text me back.
Chapter Seventy-Two
I get home later than usual from the office. There was nothing pressing, I simply wanted to take my time and make sure that I’ve gone through everything that I’ve missed before next week.
I’ve just emerged from the Tube when Chris calls me. ‘Where are you?’
‘About five minutes from home.’
‘Good to hear it. How’s your first day been?’
‘OK. It’s good to be back.’
‘I just wanted to check your ETA. You’ve not eaten?’
‘Just grabbed a sandwich after my gym session, that’s all. Do you want me to pick something up? I haven’t given dinner a thought.’
‘Sorted,’ Chris says. ‘I’ll see you in five.’
He hangs up and a few minutes later, I’m opening my front door. There’s a wonderful herby smell wafting from the kitchen and the living room is bathed in candlelight. On the table, there’s a single red rose in a bud vase.
‘You can make a habit of this,’ I say. ‘It looks and smells lovely.’
‘Ready meal,’ Chris admits. ‘Marks and Sparks Gastropub have done the catering.’
I peel off my jacket and hang it in the hall, feeling more tired than I’d like to admit. I wonder if Chris has romance on his mind as a hot bath and an early night might be more on the cards for me.
As I go into the kitchen area, Chris pours me a glass of wine and hands it to me. It’s red, heavy and hits the spot. I sigh as it works its magic.
‘I thought we’d celebrate your first day back at work.’
‘Thanks. It went well. Bill’s keen to get me right in the thick of it. We’re off to the New Forest next week for the day for a project we’re both keen to handle.’
‘Sounds good. It’ll give you something to get your teeth into.’
‘Yeah. My mind is buzzing with ideas.’ Another swig of wine before I say, ‘I texted you earlier. No reply?’
He glances at his phone and sees my earlier message. ‘Sorry, Jodie. Missed this one completely. My day was madness.’ He grins at me as he reads it. ‘That’s nice to know.’
‘I was worried,’ I admit. ‘I thought it might have been for another reason.’ In these days of instant technology, it’s easy to read something into a message, or lack of it, that isn’t there.
‘No. I love you too. Of course I do.’ He comes to snake his arm round my waist, pulling me close so that he can plant a kiss on my mouth. Then the pinger goes.
‘Dinner is ready.’ Chris opens the oven and a cloud of mouth-watering steam billows out. So he dishes up and says, ‘On the menu for this evening are lamb shanks with honey-roasted root vegetables and some kind of potato thingy. I forget. Threw the wrapper in the bin.’
I laugh. ‘Sounds amazing. Potato thingy is my favourite.’
At the table, we sit opposite each other in the candlelight and the atmosphere is decidedly less strained than when we did this on Sunny Days.
I eat heartily and, whilst it may not exactly be home-cooked fayre, it still tastes pretty good and is very welcome. ‘This is lovely,’ I say. ‘Thank you. My sandwich with Della seems a long time ago.’
Chris looks up at me. ‘You saw Della today?’
‘Yeah. Usual gym stuff. I ache all over now. I’ll be as stiff as a board tomorrow.’
He forks food into his mouth and chews thoughtfully before asking, ‘Did she say anything?’
‘About what?’
‘I don’t know.’ He shrugs. ‘What do women talk about? What’s she up to these days?’
‘You talked to her while I was away.’
‘Only to find out where you were. Is she seeing anyone?’
‘Her usual Tinder disasters.’ I laugh. ‘I don’t know how she does it. There seems to be a different bloke every week if not every night. The things she was telling me she did with one guy. I can’t even repeat the story. It would make your hair curl.’
Chris looks suitably horrified.
‘She doesn’t have any trouble pulling men, but I wish she’d find someone nice. I’d hook her up with Bill if he wasn’t gay.’ Then I think again. ‘Actually, I love her to bits but wouldn’t wish her on my worst enemy. I think Della would be a whole new level of high-maintenance. We’re going to have a long overdue night out, next week sometime if we can both make it.’
‘I’m out with clients tomorrow night,’ Chris says, taking a swig of his wine. ‘Will probably be a late one.’
‘I’ll stay on at the office as well, then. I have more than enough to keep me busy.’
When we’ve both finished, I sit back and massage my tummy. ‘I’m fit to burst.’
‘It’s good to see that you have your old radiance back.’ My husband clutches my hand across the table.
‘Some of it,’ I agree. ‘I’m certainly in a better place than I was.’
‘I know that you don’t want to discuss it now, but we can try for another baby.’
I go to speak but he presses on.
‘I feel that I’ve learned a lot these past few months. I’ve grown up, Jodie. This has changed me, has changed both of us.’
Is that what I want to hear? There’s still an emptiness inside me, a longing. But do I want to go through another pregnancy? I’m not sure that I can face it. What if ends in heartbreak once more? It’s taken its toll on me – on us. If I were to lose the baby again I might never recover.
‘No pressure this time,’ Chris continues when I don’t offer a
nything. ‘No IVF. If it happens, it happens. None of the stress, but all of the fun. And, if we can’t have a child, we’re still happy, aren’t we? We can go on ludicrously expensive exotic holidays, take up ridiculous hobbies, get a cat!’
‘I don’t like cats,’ I point out.
‘Not a cat, then. But we can do other things. That’s the point I’m trying to make. If there’s a void there, we can fill it.’
‘I thought that you’d met someone else,’ I confess. We may as well confront this now. ‘I was sure that’s what you’d done.’
Chris looks away from me. ‘I think we’ve both done things – and said things – that we bitterly regret.’
So he suspects that Ned and I have been intimate. I’m not surprised. How could I be?. Yet, it seems as this is as close as we will come to both admitting our failures as husband and wife.
‘All I want now is a fresh start.’ Chris looks at me earnestly. ‘No raking over old ground, no mud-slinging, no recriminations. What’s done is done.’
So that’s it? What happens on the Isle of Wight stays on the Isle of Wight?
‘We are where we are,’ Chris concludes. ‘I just want you and me to be happy again.’
‘I’d like that too.’ And I feel a relief that, whilst we haven’t aired or shared our secrets, we seem to have turned a page.
‘Come to bed,’ he says.
‘The washing-up?’
‘It’ll wait until morning.’
So we go to bed and Chris is gentle, caring, holding me as if I was precious china. I try my very best to relax and not push him away. And I keep my eyes wide open so that I see my husband above me, because I’m frightened that if I close them, I might see someone else.
Chapter Seventy-Three
If getting back to normal means that Chris and I work late night every night and hardly see each other, then we’re pretty much back to normal. I’d like to say that I’ve settled back into my life seamlessly, but I still miss waking to the stillness of the harbour, walking on the beach and the peaceful blackness of the nights. Ned. I’m sure it will pass.
Sunny Days and Sea Breezes Page 25