Resisting Mr Rochester

by Sharon Booth

  "That's fine," he said quietly. "You can have the house in exchange for a quick divorce. I won't contest it, of course. Send the paperwork here for now, if that's okay with you, Mum?" When she nodded in bewildered agreement, he finished, "As for the university, do your worst. It really doesn't matter to me. I've already resigned."

  I didn't know who was the most surprised of all of us. He'd resigned? And she could have the house? Was he mad?

  "Oh, Redmond," Mum said, "you really are having a midlife crisis."

  "There's more to life than money, Mum," Redmond told her. "And I hate that house, anyway. I always have. I just want a quiet life, to be with Kitty and raise our child together."

  "Think carefully about this, son," Dad advised. "It's a massive decision. You're entitled to half of that house, after all."

  "You've chucked your job?" Tamsin gasped. "With a baby on the way? Are you crazy?"

  I had a feeling that Redmond knew exactly what he was doing, though, judging by the way he and Kitty gazed at each other and smiled.

  Susan grabbed her handbag from the floor and stood up, glaring at him. "Fine. You want to throw your life down the toilet for this little tart, go ahead and do it. I shall visit my solicitor in the morning, and I'll make certain that you sign the house over to me. Good luck," she added, her eyes flashing sparks of venom at Kitty, and clearly not meaning what she said, at all. "You're going to have to sell an awful lot of Curly Wurlys to fund that little project." With one final distasteful glare toward Kitty's baby bump, she marched out of the house, slamming the front door behind her.

  We all looked at Redmond and Kitty, who seemed remarkably unfazed.

  "Okay, son," Dad said, "What have you got planned?"

  "Tell me you're not going to become a drop-out," pleaded Mum. "I can see it now. You're going to join a commune, aren't you? You've gone all peace and love on us. It won't last, you know, and then you'll regret leaving the rat race and giving away your house. Oh!" She wailed in anguish. "That beautiful house. It was like something out of a magazine. How could you let her have it all to herself?"

  Kitty gave her hand a reassuring pat. "Please dinnae fash yerself, Mrs Truelove. Wait ‘til you see our new house. Oh, it's so beautiful, isn't it, Redmond?"

  "You've found somewhere else?" Mum sounded hopeful.

  Tamsin frowned. "How could you afford it? Unless you're renting. And what are you doing about your job?"

  "Yes, come on," I said. "What have you got planned?"

  Redmond beamed. "Kitty and I are moving back to her parents' home. They have a load of holiday lets, and they're giving us one at a very reasonable rent. They weren't going to charge us, but I insisted. It's a basic little cottage, but we can do it up, make it homely, and the views are outstanding. It's a real retreat. The perfect place to raise a child."

  "I canna wait," Kitty said, coming to life before our eyes, as her own eyes shone with excitement. "I've wanted to go home for ages, and now we are. Mum and Dad said I can help out with the letting business until the baby comes, then maybe go part-time afterwards."

  "That's all very well," Mum said, "but what about Redmond? Surely, you're not going to clean holiday lets for a living? You're a genius! It's a criminal waste."

  "Don't be daft," Redmond said. "I've already secured a job as an academic writer. I can work from home, and I'll earn good money. I can pick and choose the projects I want to work on, and the hours are completely flexible. It will be perfect for when the baby comes. I can help take care of it. I really want to be involved. Plus, I can get on with research for my next book. The peace and quiet of the location will make things so much easier."

  "And we have a good broadband connection now," Kitty added, "so it won't be a problem."

  We all looked at each other. "Er, where exactly is this holiday cottage?" Dad said. "Only, you're making it sound as remote as the Outer Hebrides, or somewhere."

  Kitty cleared her throat, and her hands cupped her bump protectively. Redmond's face was flushed. "Er, funny you should say that, Dad. Have you heard of the Isle of Lewis, by any chance?"

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Tamsin was in floods of tears again. I sat beside her on the bed, having heard her sobbing her heart out from across the landing. I felt completely helpless, and there was a growing anger inside me towards Brad. What the hell was he playing at, leaving her like that? And what about those two little girls?

  Alice and Robyn had been taken to the park by Dad. "I could use some fresh air," he'd announced. "So, how about you two come with me to the park, and we can all have a go on that fabulous slide?"

  "Can we feed the ducks, Grandad?" Robyn asked, and Dad had assured her they could. I'd also heard him promise, in a whisper, that he would buy them both the most enormous ice cream, complete with a big, fat, chocolate flake and sprinkles. They could hardly wait to leave the house.

  Mum was still in shock over Redmond's departure. He and Kitty had driven off the previous evening, looking blissfully happy and seemingly desperate to get to Scotland and start living their brand-new life together. Mum was in despair, as if he was emigrating to Australia, or something.

  "It's only the Western Isles, love," Dad put his arm around her on the doorstep, as we’d all waved the two of them off on their new adventure. "We can visit. Sounds like there's plenty of accommodation for us to choose from."

  "But he had such a wonderful life," she said tearfully. "He had a stable marriage, a beautiful house, a great job. Now look at him."

  "He'll have an even better life with Kitty," I assured her. "He'll finally be with someone who loves him, they'll have the baby he's longed for, and they'll be living on a beautiful Scottish island with Kitty's family to support them, and money coming in regularly from his new job. I don't know why you're so worried."

  "It's a Scottish island," she said, eyes wide. "What if he turns to whisky and starts wearing a kilt?"

  Tamsin had nodded. "You know, I'll bet that's exactly what will happen," she confirmed. "Bet he grows a really long beard, too, and keeps his Curly Wurlys in his sporran. How on earth will we live with the shame?"

  We’d all looked at each other, and burst out laughing. "I suppose you're right," Mum said wearily. "I'll just miss him, that's all, and Lewis seems so far away. And then there's the baby—our grandchild. I would like to see something of it, but I doubt we will."

  "Don't be daft, love," Dad said, squeezing her shoulders. "Kitty said we'd be welcome any time, and she seems to be the sort who means what she says. Personally, I'm feeling a lot easier about Redmond now. I knew he wasn't really happy. Seems things are working out beautifully for him. Two down, one to go."

  They both looked at Tamsin, who went red and folded her arms. "Don't look at me like that," she said defiantly. "I'm quite sorted, thank you very much. In fact, hearing Susan carrying on like that brought me to my senses. I'm definitely going to file for a divorce as soon as I get home, and then I'm going to get on with my life."

  "But what life will that be without Brad?" Mum said anxiously.

  "Charming," Tamsin said. "You think I'm completely useless without a man in my life? Well, for your information, I'm going back to college to train as a florist. I intend to get a job doing what I love, and what I know I'm good at. I've already been accepted, and I start in September. So, you see, my life is on the up, too. I couldn't be happier."

  She'd put on a brave face for the rest of the evening, but with her daughters out of the way, she'd completely crumbled. I sat there, listening to her sobs and wondering what the hell I could do to make things better.

  "Have you spoken to Brad lately?" I said eventually, as her crying quietened down, and she reached for a tissue, sniffing disconsolately.

  "Last week," she managed, rubbing her eyes. "He wanted to know when the car insurance was up for renewal."

  "And what did you talk about?" I said gently.

  Her red, teary eyes widened. "Talk about? Car insurance."

  "And that's it? I mean,
have you actually spoken to him about what's going on with your marriage? With him."

  She shook her head.

  "But why not? Why aren't you tackling this properly, Tamsin? You need to know what's happening."

  "I can't," she whispered. "I just can't."

  "But why?"

  "Because I don't want to know," she burst out. Tears began to roll down her cheeks again. "I just can't hear him say the words, Cara. I can't. Once he says them, that's it. I mean, that's really it."

  "What words?"

  "That he doesn't love me anymore." She gasped. "That there's someone else who means as much to him as Kitty does to Redmond."

  "Oh, Tamsin." I sighed and held her hand. "You really do still love him, don't you?"

  "No!" She dabbed at her face with a tissue, then sobbed. "Yes. Of course I still love him. But I can't ever take him back after this, and anyway, he doesn't want me, does he? That much is obvious. I have to forget him and move on with my life, but it's so hard and I feel so pathetic for feeling this bad. I should be angry with him. I should have put him behind me and moved on by now. He doesn't deserve my love, does he? He doesn't deserve all these tears! But I just can't help it. How did you do it?"

  "I'm sorry?" I said, startled.

  "How did you move on after Seth? How did you find the strength to walk away?"

  "It really wasn't difficult at all in the end," I confessed, realising it was true. "I think I cried all my tears while I was still with him. Then they just stopped. I had no more tears left for him—no feelings at all, really. It was easy to walk away once I'd made my mind up. Quite honestly," I admitted, accepting it at last, "I don't think I ever really loved him. It was an infatuation. I was very young, and I had no idea what love really was."

  I really hadn't, had I? What Seth had stirred in me seemed so childish in hindsight, so immature.

  I thought about Ethan, and the difference hit me with a bang.

  Why, I wondered yet again, had it taken me so long to realise that Seth wasn't the one for me? Because, I finally admitted to myself, that would have meant facing up to the fact that I'd truly wasted fourteen years of my life on a fantasy. I'd thrown away my family, my home, my chances of a career, of a happy marriage, of motherhood, for ... that. I'd been fooled by passion, blinded by a stupid belief that some mythical true love could conquer all.

  "Of course," I said heavily, "I eventually grew up and realised it wasn't enough, but by then, I'd made my bed, and I didn't think anyone else would want to lie in it with me except him, so I stayed. And in the end, I was so beaten down with it all that I couldn't imagine being happy, whether I was with him, or not. It was the piano that did it, of all things." I laughed suddenly, still astonished that something so simple had completely broken the spell. "I know it sounds crazy, but it was the final straw. Just woke me up and gave me the energy to take my life back in my own hands."

  Tamsin nodded, staring at the wall. "I wonder what it was that woke Brad up?" she murmured.

  "You have to talk to him," I said. "Properly, I mean. You have to find out what's going on in his mind."

  She gave a mirthless laugh. "And when I discover that he's got some gorgeous girl knocked up and is about to move away with her, then what?"

  "Brad's not Redmond," I reminded her, "and you're definitely not Susan. Be brave."

  But as fresh tears welled up in her eyes, I had the awful feeling that she wouldn't muster the courage to contact her husband. She was broken. And I had no idea how to fix her.

  #

  The sun warmed my face, as I lay on my back on the lawn, eyes closed, feeling the heat on my skin and imagining the garden at Moreland Hall. I could picture the soft pink roses, smell their sweet fragrance, feel the velvet petals between my fingers. I imagined the swing, dangling invitingly from the lower bough of the sycamore tree, and the scent of fresh laundry and expensive aftershave. Ethan's eyes gazed into mine, a hint of mischief and a gleam of desire in those dark depths.

  "What are you smiling at, Auntie Cara?"

  I opened one eye, holding my hand to my face to shade out the sun.

  Robyn stood over me, watching me curiously. Alice sat a few feet away, picking daisies to add to the daisy chain that was draped over her legs.

  "Nothing," I said. "Just daydreaming."

  Robyn plonked herself down on the grass beside me and gave a big sigh. "I wish Mummy would smile," she confided. "She never does anymore."

  My heart contracted. "Well, it's been a difficult time for her lately. For all of you."

  "When's Daddy coming home?" Her voice was small.

  Alice glanced up at her. "He's not. I've told you, Robyn. Don't talk about it, or you'll upset Mummy."

  "But why isn't he coming home?" Robyn pleaded. "I don't understand. Where's he living now? And when will we see him? It's been ages."

  "Haven't you seen him since he left home?" I said, shocked.

  They shook their heads. "I don't think he loves us anymore." Alice's voice wobbled and there was a hint of a tear in her eye, but she defiantly tossed her head and picked another daisy. She was so much like Tamsin, it hurt to look at her.

  I sat up and shuffled over to sit beside her, holding out my hand to Robyn at the same time. We all sat together, and I put my arms around them. "Now, you listen to me," I told them. "I don't know what's going on between your mummy and daddy, any more than you do, but one thing I do know is that they both love you to bits. Your daddy must have a very good reason for staying away, but I absolutely know that he'll be thinking of you all the time, and I'll bet he's missing you so much that it won't be long before he makes some sort of arrangement to see you."

  "But if he loves us, he wouldn't have left us, would he?" Robyn asked.

  "Whatever has gone on with Mummy and Daddy, it has absolutely nothing to do with you. They adore you, you must know that?"

  They both tutted, and Alice wrenched another daisy from the ground. "Suppose so," she muttered, her voice sounding suspiciously choked.

  Robyn's eyes filled with tears. "But what if he doesn't love us?" she whispered. "What if he's fed up with us?"

  "Why on earth would he be fed up with you?"

  "He was never at home," she pointed out. "When he lived with us, I mean. Mummy used to get really sad. She pretended she didn't mind, but we knew she did."

  "If he loved us, he'd have wanted to be with us," Alice said determinedly.

  "But he was just very busy," I said, desperate to ease their pain. "It wasn't because he didn't want to be with you. He just had an awful lot to do." I stared at their little pinched faces and felt a lurch of grief for them. "Like you!" I exclaimed suddenly.

  They looked up at me, clearly baffled. "What do you mean, like us?"

  "Okay," I said eagerly, desperate to make them understand, "you love your mummy, right?"

  They nodded. "Of course we do," Robyn said indignantly.

  "Yet, you don't stay home much with her, do you? I mean, you have things to do, too. You're always here, there, and everywhere. All those activities you do. It's not because you don't want to be with your mummy, it's because you have busy lives. Just like Daddy. He wasn't out to avoid you all, he was just terribly busy."

  They looked at each other. "It's not the same," Alice said.

  "Yes, it is," I said.

  Robyn shook her head. "It's not."

  I sighed. "Well, I think it is," I said, feeling defeated.

  "He's not going to come home, is he?" Robyn's bottom lip quivered.

  I wanted to assure them that everything would be fine, that their father would be home before they knew it, and the issues between their parents would be resolved, but I couldn't. "I don't know," I admitted. "But whatever happens, you will see him regularly, I promise you that."

  "Dahlia's going to love this," Alice said grumpily.

  Robyn gave her a sympathetic look. "Just ignore her."

  "Who's Dahlia?" I said. "And what's she going to love?"

  "The boss of my clas
s." Alice pulled a face. "She told everyone that Daddy left, and they all think it's really funny. I told her he was away on a business trip and was coming back, and she said I was a liar. Now everyone will know she was right."

  "How did Dahlia know he'd even left?" I said.

  "Mummy told someone at Pilates class, and they told Dahlia's mummy. I hate her."

  "I hate them all," Robyn said vehemently. "I hate that school."

  My eyes widened. "What do you mean, you hate that school?"

  "It's horrible. We've always hated it," Robyn confided. "But you won't tell Mummy, will you? We don't want to upset her even more."

  "But why do you hate it?"

  Alice considered the matter. "The girls there are all stuck up. They make fun of us, and they don't let us join in with anything. Not like our old friends. We really miss them."

  "Don't you ever see them?"

  Robyn nodded. "Yes, but only after school."

  "Well, that's something," I said. "And you have to admit, you have a fabulous social life. What, with one club after another, I reckon you're going to be Olympic stars of the future, or prima ballerinas."

  I laughed, but they didn't seem to see the funny side. "We're not very good at anything," Alice admitted. "But then again, we don't really try very hard."

  "It's boring," Robyn added.

  "What's boring?" I was bewildered. "Gymnastics? Swimming? Ice skating? Ballet? Tap?"

  "All of it," Robyn said, with some feeling.

  "Not all of it," Alice corrected her. "I like dancing. It's quite good fun."

  "Hang on a minute." I was totally confused. "If you don't like all those activities, why on earth do you make your mother drive you there every night?"

  Alice seemed to give up on her daisy chain. She examined the string of flowers in her hand, then threw them on the ground beside her and heaved a big sigh. "Because," she said, as if explaining to a five-year-old, "Lucy goes to gymnastics, Katie goes to swimming, and Megan does ice skating."

  "And Florence swims, too, and Juliet likes dance class."