What Becomes of the Broken Hearted?

by Claire Allan

  “Now there’s a story and a half.It’s the kind of story I could sell to one of those real-life magazines and make myself a few quid. Rose is my step-mum. I could tell you about my actual mum but it would make your eyes water.”

  She laughed as she spoke but her eyes were a little dull. Not for the first time I felt like giving her a hug. That would be entirely inappropriate so I settled for a quick roll of the eyes and a “Families, eh?” which made me feel like a total plonker.

  “Yes, well. It’s not what today is about, so why don’t we go inside and try that dress on you. It’s not as gorgeous as your actual dress, of course, but beautiful all the same. You must be getting excited now?”

  I smiled. “What’s that you were saying? I could tell you the full story but it would make your eyes water?”

  “One of those days all round then?” she said, putting her arm around me and guiding me down the stone steps and back through the purple doors of The Dressing Room.

  And so I stood there in the dress that was not mine, looking at a face that did not look like a happy bride to me.

  “Can you pass my bag in, please?” I called to Kitty who was outside the curtain.

  She did as I asked without asking what I was at, and I delved in my bag and pulled out my phone and called Paddy. I prayed he would answer – but not even a little bit of me was sure that he would. “Please,” I whispered to the phone and to my reflection in the mirror, “Please answer.”

  My heart leapt when I heard his voice. He couldn’t have been that angry. He had answered the phone. That had to mean something.

  “Paddy,” I started, “I’m standing here, in a wedding dress, not knowing what the hell is happening with us anymore. Please, can we talk? Cards on the table, no bullshit talk? Because I swear to you nothing happened with Ian last night. And I know I was a stupid bitch and didn’t tell you I was meeting him but that was the only mistake I made. I swear.”

  He didn’t answer immediately and I swear to God my own heart stopped, waiting for his response.

  “Just come home, Erin. Come home and we will talk.”

  “I’ll be there soon,” I said, hanging up and putting my phone back in my bag.

  I pulled open the curtain to where Kitty was standing, inspecting a pair of shoes and trying to pretend she hadn’t heard a word of what I had just said.

  “The dress is perfect,” I said. “It will be stunning on the day. But I have to go – so if you could help me out of itthat would be perfect.”

  “Of course,” she said, and as she unzipped me I wondered what on earth she made of me. Every visit to her showroom had involved some level of high drama or other – she probably thought I was a complete nutcase. Then again, at the moment I did feel like a complete nutcase.

  “I’m not usually this flighty or emotional,” I offered as she took the dress from me to hang it up.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not usually this distracted and bitter.”

  “Shit happens?” I smiled.

  “It certainly does,” she smiled back. “But for what it’s worth, and what little I know, I think things will be okay for you.”

  “Thank you,” I smiled. “And for you? Will it be okay for you?”

  “The jury is still very much out on that one, but one way or the other I’m sure it will be.”

  I didn’t care if it was professional or not, but I reached out and hugged her and thanked her for being lovely. Then I set out, my heart in my mouth, knowing that the next few hours would change my life one way or the other.

  Chapter thirty-three

  Kitty

  I found myself arriving in Starbucks in the knowledge that Ivy was ensconced in a corner somewhere.

  The ridiculousness of the entire situation at least lifted some of the tension. I still wasn’t sure how I was going to approach it. James had been a great support to me in recent weeks and a friend to me over a number of years. I didn’t want to flat out trample all over his heart – but I didn’t want him thinking it was okay to have free and easy access to my knicker drawer or to bombard me with texts or phone calls. I should have realised how he felt – to be honest, Ihad done and it was flattering when my heart was in smithereens. I felt sick as I walked through the door, carrying his jacket in a big shopping-bag.

  He smiled at me as I walked inand stood, his arms outstretched as if we were long-lost lovers reunited over a Grande Latte and a gingerbread man. I smiled, too, probably more than a little stiffly, and hugged him briefly and awkwardly with as little bodily contact as I could muster.

  “James,” I said as I sat down.I reached over and put the shopping-bag down at his feet.

  He glanced into it. “Oh. You shouldn’t have bothered,” he said. “I would have picked it up next time.”

  I didn’t know how to respond to that so I said nothing.

  He was staring at me – properly taking in every single inch of my face as if it were the most precious thing in the world to him. Had he always looked at me that way? I didn’t know if he had. Or if I had been too blind to notice? It seemed very ridiculous. After all, this was James – the man who had grown up alongside the man I considered, until recently at least, to be the love of my life. We had done everything together – surely I would have noticed this before?

  “I’ve missed you,” he said and I felt myself squirm more than a little. I was going to destroy him and all he had done was be there for me and love me. It wasn’t his fault I was still in love with Mark and that I didn’t love him back.

  “James,” I interrupted him, thinking it was kinder to stop him before he got into full swing. “Please . . . look, we need to talk. This, it has to stop.”

  He looked around him and back at me, confusion plastered all over his face and I felt like a Grade A bitch.

  “This?” he asked, his eyebrows raised.

  “Yes. James . . . it’s too much. The flowers, the texts, the . . . visiting . . . the taking our wedding picture.”

  He blushed, ran his hand through his hair and shifted in his seat. “I didn’t take the picture – of course not – I just put it in a drawer. I thought it was upsetting for you to be looking at it all the time. And I came to the house because I wanted to see you – I was hoping you’d be there. So I waited a little but when you didn’t turn up, I left.”

  His eyes were so pleading, there was such love in them and I knew I had to just tell him – to say it fast, like ripping off a plaster.

  “I’m so sorry if I led you on, James. I’m so sorry if I gave you the impression this could be more than it was.”

  “If you led me on?” he asked, his eyes darkening.

  “Yes,” I said, squirming in my seat. “You must have known. All this stuff with Mark. It’s not over – it’s so up in the air and I may have given you the wrong signals and I can only apologise for that, with all my heart.”

  “All your heart,” he sniffed, sitting back in his seat and stirring his coffee while he tried to gather his thoughts.

  I waited.

  He leaned forward and stared directly into my eyes. “There is no ‘may have given me the wrong signals’ about it, Kitty,” he said, his voiced wounded. “You did give me the wrong signals. You slept with me, Kitty!” His voice was hoarse and angry. “You let me come round to your house every night and be with you, to comfort you, cook for you, hug you when you cried and then you took me to bed. I don’t see how that may have been the wrong signals.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, tears pricking my eyes. “This is just a mess. And Mark – I don’t know how I feel about what’s happened.”

  “You don’t know how to feel about himrunning off and leaving you and sleeping with someone else?” he sneered and I felt as if I had been slapped in the face.

  “We’remarried, James, and even though it’s overit’s complicated. What do we do now, where we go from here? All of it is just confusing and messy and I don’t have space for someone else right now.” I felt a tear run down my cheek, which by now was blazi
ng from shame. How could I have got it so wrong?

  “You had space for me in your bed,” he said a little too loudly, causing a few heads to turn. “You can’t really be thinking about going back to him?”

  “When did I say that? I didn’t say that. All I said was that it was complicated and I don’t know who I am any more so perhaps it’s not the best time to throw myself headlong into something else.”

  “So you want to throw yourself in but you are holding back?” There was a faint smile on his face which didn’t quite distract from the look of increasing desperation in his eyes.

  “No.” I shook my head, not wanting to hurt him but not wanting to lead him on either. “I don’t know what I want. But this, you, it’s too much, James. You sending flowers and texts and coming to my house. It’s too much.”

  “I’ll back off,” he said and I sagged with relief. “We’ll slow things down. I’ll cool it with the flowers and the texts, but Christ this is the first time I’ve had a woman ask me not to send flowers and texts.”

  The tension that had drained from me just moments before jumped right back in, hunching my shoulders and making my neck seize up. I had to make this as clean a break as possible. I couldn’t give him any ideas that this would go anywhere. It wouldn’t. It couldn’t.

  “This isn’t about slowing down,” I said, trying to stay calm, aware of the public setting. “James, it just isn’t right. It can’t go anywhere. I’m sorry.”

  He sat back and sucked air in through his teeth, pulling his hair back from his face and looking at me. I waited for him to talk, for a response of sorts, but he just stared. Then slowly, carefully, in a measured manner, he started to shake his head and he started to laugh. It wasn’t a nice laugh. It made me feel uneasy and I felt the tension in my body ramp up another notch.

  “You are some craic, Kitty Shanahan,” he said. “Leading me on. Inviting me to your house – I was good when you needed someone to talk to, someone to hold your hand, someone to sleep with. But, Christ, then you just walk out!” He was spitting the words out, his eyes like flints, hisfist clenched. I could see the spittle gather in the corner of his mouth and it made me feel sick to my stomach. His voice was loud and I was sure I heard someone tutting behind us and I felt my face blaze and tears spring to my eyes. I knew he was hurting but, Christ, this was a public place. This was vitriol. This was not fair.

  “James,” I said, “Please . . . I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head and pushed his coffee cup away from him. I wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t just going to throw it over me. “I don’t know what I ever saw in you – no wonder he left. He should have run faster.”

  My face was now blazing, and there was a slight buzzing in my ears. There was no doubt now that we were being watched – that people were drinking in this soap opera playing out in front of them. “You think you are just so amazing!” he spat. “You and your fancy shop – but you’ve nothing really, Kitty. You are nothing.”

  I tried to find words to bite back. I really did. I tried to find some way to jump in and defend myself but I was so utterly floored by his anger – by his vicious words. I looked at him, trying to find some trace of the person I had known over the last weeks. I wondered where Ivy was – what she was making of it – why she wasn’t jumping in – and I wanted to turn to find her but I was afraid to look around, afraid it would draw more attention to me. I opened my mouth to speak – hoping the words would find a way out. Hoping I could quiet him in some way. I hoped but he just looked at me, goading me with his eyes and he came as close as he could to my face.

  “Nothing,” he said and I closed my eyes to escape his stare.

  “That’s enough!” a gruff voice spoke above me.

  It was my father.I don’t know where he had come from, but I was glad he was there. So glad – and yet so completely humiliated. How much had he heard? That I had slept with James?

  “No one speaks to my daughter like that. No one should speak to any human being like that. So you, you leave. And you don’t come near her again. You don’t call. You don’t text. You don’t wander past the shop. You sure as hell don’t try and come anywhere near her house. You leave now – and you go home and hopefully realise what a complete arsehole you have been and you learn to speak to people with more respect and treat them with more respect.”

  James looked at my father, who had remained calm and even-toned the entire time he had been speaking. Then he looked at me and rolled his eyes before getting up and stalking away, leaving the wretched jacket in its shopping-bag behind him.

  I could feel every part of me shaking.

  “Thank you, Daddy,” I muttered,relieved beyond measure that he had been there to put an end to this horrible confrontation.

  He sat down beside me and hugged me briefly.

  “Ivy called me. She said you might need back-up. I didn’t want to interfere, but I wasn’t going to let him talk to you like that.”

  I nodded gratefully and hastily wiped the tears from my eyes.

  “Let’s go, Kit,” he whispered and I let him lead me outside, aware that Ivy was following us.

  It was only when I got to my car and sat in that I stopped shaking. Ivy came to my window and said she would go and leave Daddy and me to have a chat. She gave me an awkward hug through the window and left.

  My father got into the passenger seat and held my hand. “All this – it will pass. And one day you will probably laugh about it – hard as that may be to believe now. I know when your mother left I fell apart. But you know that anyway, Kit. You were there to help pick me back up again, you and Ivy. I’m sorry I put you through that,” he said softly. “I should have been stronger . . .”

  “You were plenty strong,” I said, squeezing his hand. “We were all as strong as we could have been. In fairness, I don’t think I did much picking up. That was Ivy. You were much stronger than I am now. I’m here blundering about like a headless chicken – not knowing what to do, who to trust.”

  “You can trust me,” he said, “and your sister, and Rose . . .”

  “Now Mum wants me to go to her wedding but I just can’t.”

  He squeezed my hand again. “The thing is, Kitty, your mum, she’s not a bad person. I thought she was for a long time. I couldn’t understand it – how one day she could wake up and just leave – just decide she wasn’t in love with me anymore.” He blushed slightly. “But more than that I couldn’t understand how she could leave you and Ivy. That destroyed me more than anything – having to tell you. Having to watch you try and come to terms with that. But, you know, pet, over the years that followed I realised she hadn’t been happy. She hadn’t been the person she once was and she needed to go – and we’re better for it. So much better for it. Sure don’t I have two daughters who would lay down their lives for me?Sometimes things change and it’s a very hard lesson to learn. Believe me. But in the end . . .”

  “I want to believe that,” I said. “I’m trying really hard to be positive and to try and understand where it all went wrong. Did you really not know it was going wrong with Mum? Was it wrong for a while and you were protecting us? It seemed like you were happy.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “At the time I didn’t think there had been any signs, but in hindsight she hadn’t been herself. It was hard for her to leave though. She does love you.”

  “I don’t think Mum really loves anyone but herself,” I said sadly. “I’d like to say that she does. That she hasgrown up. And I think she tries, but inherently she is just a selfish person. She will always put herself first.”

  “Some people are like that,” he said. “But Kitty, that is about them. It’s not about you. It’s not a reflection of who you are. You are one amazing young woman.”

  “As my father you are morally obliged to say such things,” I said, wiping a tear away from my eye.

  “Girl, I would tell you if you were a pain,” he said softly, laughing. “The biggest lesson you will learn in this life is that you cannot,
no matter how much you want to, control another person’s actions. You can’t be master of whatever is going on in their heads. All you can do – all you do do – is to be the best person you can be and be true to yourself. If that’s not enough for Mark, or whoever, then it will be more than enough for someone else.”

  We hugged then, there in the car, uncomfortably and awkwardly, but it was still one of the nicest hugs I had ever received in my life.

  “You hold your head up high, my girl,” he said as we drove off to myhome – ready for some tea and biscuits or something a little stronger.

  What we weren’t expecting when we arrived was to find a rather desolate-looking Mark sitting on the front step, his head in his hands.

  Chapter thirty-four

  Erin

  “I understand,” Paddy said as I walked in the door. “I get it.”

  “Get what?”

  He looked wretched. Not, you know, cancer-wretched but devastated, heartbroken wretched. The kind of wretched I had felt when Ian had upped and left me to pick up whatever shreds of dignity I had left and try and piece them back together. It made me feel sick to think that I had done this to him. Even though I hadn’t. Even though nothing had happened.

  “Just give me a week – you know, to get organised. Get my stuff together. I’ll do all the cancellations and things. We both know weddings aren’t really your thing.”

  He flashed a pitiful look at me as the words buzzed around my head and my brain, although well aware that things were very bad indeed between us, tried to make sense of what exactly he was saying.

  “Paddy . . . I don’t . . . you have to listen.” I felt my heartbeat quicken. In the last few months I had been so terrified of losing him to cancer I hadn’t realised I was hurtling towards losing him, no matter what. That he could leave, by his own choice. Because of me. Because I had stupidly met with stupid Ian and stupidly ruined it all.