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The Second Chance Tea Shop

Page 29

by Fay Keenan


  ‘I’ve been such a fool.’ Matthew held Jonathan’s gaze, struggling to focus. Shaking his head, he continued, ‘I’ve been sitting here for weeks, trying to get my head around what’s happened, and I still end up tied in knots.’

  ‘Tell me,’ Jonathan said gently.

  Matthew leaned forward in his seat, hair falling over his eyes. He heaved a great, resigned sigh. ‘The night Meredith woke up, Tara and I slept together.’

  Jonathan choked on his mouthful of whisky.

  ‘I know.’ Matthew, at last, put his head in his hands. ‘It was a stupid, irresponsible, destructive thing that achieved nothing. The minute it was over I regretted it. But because of that, I’ve ruined everything I could have had. It was an act even you’d have thought twice about.’

  ‘Were you totally out of your mind?’ Jonathan took a last gulp of his Scotch, then immediately filled his glass again. As he put the bottle back down, he paused as the sound of a door closing caught his attention. For a moment he assumed it was Meredith coming home, but when she didn’t materialise, he figured it had just been the wind.

  ‘I’ve really fucked up, haven’t I, Jonno?’

  Matthew hadn’t used his brother’s nickname for years, and Jonathan’s throat tightened. ‘It’s not over, Matt. Not unless you want it to be.’

  ‘How can you say that? I did the one thing I swore I never would. For eleven years I kept that promise; now, when I’ve got the chance to be happy, and to make someone else happy, I end up throwing it all away.’

  ‘So just don’t tell Anna,’ Jonathan said. He reached out and tentatively put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. ‘You don’t have to be honest about everything, you know.’

  Matthew’s head snapped up. ‘That’s always been your philosophy, hasn’t it? Don’t say anything and hope you don’t get caught.’

  ‘Fair point, but on this occasion, why the hell not? She doesn’t know. All she thinks is that you’ve distanced yourself from her. You can tell her what you like. Tell her it’s work, Meredith, fucking hell, tell her that you haven’t been able to get it up and you’re feeling intimidated. It doesn’t matter.’

  Matthew shook his head. ‘You know I’m not like that. I can’t get any deeper with Anna unless I’m prepared to be completely honest. And at the moment, I don’t have the strength. I know what it’ll do to her if I tell her.’

  ‘So don’t tell her,’ Jonathan repeated patiently. ‘Just go and apologise for being a distant idiot and pick right up where you left off. She’ll never know.’

  ‘I can’t do it. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.’

  ‘You’re seriously thinking of going in there and telling her you shagged your ex-wife, aren’t you?’ Jonathan was incredulous. ‘She’ll kick your arse from here to Bristol.’

  ‘Then it’ll have to end,’ Matthew said. ‘Tara lied to me once and it nearly destroyed me.’

  ‘Even if you know that telling her the truth will probably destroy her too?’

  It was Matthew’s turn to take a deep slug of his whisky. For a while he didn’t speak. Eventually, he responded. ‘If I don’t level with her, then I’ll have no choice but to end it.’

  ‘You’ve got to do what you think is best,’ Jonathan replied. ‘But remember, some things are bigger than truth. Think about the future you have, you should have with her. Isn’t that worth one little lie?’

  Matthew shook his head. ‘I can’t do it.’

  ‘On your head be it, brother dear.’ Jonathan finished his whisky. ‘Much as I’d love to hang about and debate your moral fortitude versus my distinct lack of same, I need to get going. That fucking cockerel of Sid Porter’s will be squawking the dawn in a few hours.’

  ‘I still can’t believe you’ve dragged it out of me.’

  ‘Really?’ Jonathan raised an eyebrow. ‘I would have thought, given our history, that you’d have expected it.’ Standing up, he gave his brother a last pat on the shoulder. ‘Don’t spend the next few hours stewing, Matt. If you’re going to come clean, just go and bloody do it. She deserves that, at least.’

  ‘You’re right. For once. But don’t let it go to your head.’ Standing up to see his brother to the front door, Matthew’s expression was thoughtful. ‘I should be feeling like utter shit,’ he said. ‘And I should have punched your lights out at least a dozen times over the past few weeks.’

  ‘So?’ Jonathan prompted.

  ‘So I just can’t work out why I feel so bloody optimistic all of a sudden!’ Matthew shook his head. ‘For the first time in a long time, I know what I want. And she’s sitting in a cottage next to the west orchard.’

  ‘It must be spending time with your all-round fantastic younger brother,’ Jonathan said sardonically.

  ‘Don’t push your luck, Jonno.’

  As Jonathan left, Matthew, despite his better instincts, smiled.

  47

  Anna was about to turn in for the night, relieved that it was, at last, all over. Her shawl was flung over the back of the sofa, and her handbag was chucked on the desk near her computer. Ellie was sound asleep upstairs and as Pat had left there was a look of concern etched on her features at Anna’s wan appearance. Pat was desperate for Anna and Matthew to work things out, and, much as she liked Jonathan, she was wary of him.

  Realising she hadn’t checked her phone for a little while, she walked back over to the desk and reached into her handbag to get it. As she checked missed calls and read messages, including a belated text from Charlotte wishing her luck, from the corner of her eye she saw a movement outside the cottage. Feeling her heart lurch, she hoped it wasn’t Jonathan, deciding to try to persuade her again to make a whole night of it. Peering through the murky, mullioned front window, she made out a shape scuttling up the garden path. Flying to the front door, slipping in her stockinged feet, she flung it open and Meredith collapsed into her arms.

  ‘Sweetheart, what’s the matter?’ Anna noticed the girl’s desperate thinness, her frailty, and her heart broke again. ‘Is it your dad? Is he OK?’ She had a sudden, horrific vision of Matthew falling down the stairs drunk.

  For a few minutes, Meredith couldn’t speak, she was heaving and sobbing so much. Gradually, as Anna held her, murmuring soothing nonsense into her ears and stroking her long black hair back from her face, she began to calm.

  ‘Come into the lounge,’ Anna said gently. ‘And tell me what on earth’s happened.’

  Half carrying Meredith, she managed to get her onto the sofa, and wrapped the shawl she’d slung on the back of it around the girl. Meredith’s sobs had slowed to hiccups now, and she wiped her nose on the back of her hand, a peculiarly childish gesture that broke Anna’s heart.

  ‘When I got home, the door was on the latch,’ Meredith said. ‘So I crept in, because I was a bit past my curfew and I didn’t want the aggro.’ She took the tissue Anna offered her and blew her nose loudly.

  ‘Anyway, I heard Dad talking to someone in the living room, and when I heard the other person too, I was so shocked, I just froze.’ Meredith put her head in her hands.

  Suspecting she already knew the answer, Anna asked anyway. ‘Who was your dad talking to, lovely?’

  ‘It was Uncle Jonathan.’ Meredith hiccupped again. ‘And I was, like, so pleased they were actually talking to each other, I stood there, listening. I just wanted to hear them chat for a bit. And then…’ Meredith started to cry again.

  ‘What is it, sweetheart?’ Anna took Meredith’s hands in hers.

  ‘I guess I sort of knew Uncle Jonno had something to do with Mum and Dad splitting up, but I didn’t realise… how could they? How could they both do it? Dad must have been so hurt.’ She trailed off again, unable to speak for a few moments.

  Anna let her cry, stroking her hair until Meredith calmed down again. She’d always known Meredith would find out about the reasons for her parents’ divorce at some time, but she knew Matthew, and Jonathan for that matter, would be devastated when they realised how she’d found out.
<
br />   ‘And it gets worse,’ Meredith sniffed.

  ‘How, lovely?’ Anna asked, wondering how much worse it could, conceivably, get.

  Meredith shook her head. ‘I can’t tell you.’

  ‘It might help,’ Anna said gently. ‘Your dad wouldn’t want you worrying about things you’d overheard.’

  ‘It’s not that,’ Meredith sniffed. ‘I can’t tell you because it’s to do with you and him.’

  Anna went cold. Was she about to find out why Matthew had distanced himself? Was Meredith going to confirm her worst suspicions; that he did, indeed, blame her for the car accident? Bracing herself, she turned to face Meredith. ‘I understand,’ she said. ‘And you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. After all, things you overhear can often be wrong, or misinterpreted. Perhaps I can help you to work it out.’

  ‘This was pretty clear,’ Meredith said quietly. Taking a deep breath, she looked Anna straight in the face, her eyes a combination of apprehension and doubt. ‘But if I tell you, please don’t blame me. I couldn’t handle it if you stopped talking to me.’

  Anna gave Meredith a sad smile. ‘I won’t hold it against you, I promise.’

  ‘Oh, god, Anna…’ Meredith’s voice trembled.

  Anna’s heart thumped.

  Eventually, fists clenched tightly, Meredith spoke. ‘He said,’ she swallowed hard. ‘On the night I woke up in hospital, he and mum went to bed together.’

  The world seemed to slow down to an agonising, grinding halt. Anna’s stomach lurched as she tried to digest what Meredith had said. So that was what was behind Matthew’s sudden change in affections; the weeks and weeks of silence; that awful, stilted conversation at Cowslip Barn. Now it was becoming achingly clear. But this was not the time to give in to her own personal brand of heartbreak. She had to get Meredith calm enough to go home.

  ‘Let’s talk about this in the morning,’ she said gently, helping Meredith to her feet. ‘Your dad’s going to be panicking, wondering where you are.’

  ‘I doubt it,’ Meredith sniffed. ‘He and Uncle Jonathan were pretty well stuck into the whisky when they were talking. I doubt either of them know what year it is by now.’

  ‘Even so, I should get you home.’

  Anna managed to hold herself in check until she’d calmed Meredith down enough to walk her home. Whatever her feelings about what she’d just heard, she knew she couldn’t burden Meredith with them; the poor girl had been devastated enough already.

  She risked leaving Ellie for the ten minutes it took to ensure Meredith got to the bottom of her own drive, and then she fled back to Pippin Cottage, hoping against hope she’d make it to her bedroom before the tears came. As she dashed up the garden path, she heard a barn owl hoot somewhere in the trees above her. She’d always associated that sound with the passing of someone, or something. Was it hope she was losing?

  Only when she was sure she was alone did she give in to her own emotions. As the early grey fingers of a murky, late September dawn clawed through the night sky, she felt sick to her stomach. Not only had Matthew slept with Tara, but he’d also allowed Anna to believe she was responsible for the sudden distance between them. For weeks he’d been evasive, perpetuating the illusion he blamed her for Meredith’s accident, when all along he’d been harbouring secrets of his own. Hurt and anger mingled in her stomach, curling around her heart. With a shaking hand, she sipped the cup of tea she’d made for herself and nearly gagged as she realised it was stone cold.

  Shivering uncontrollably, she mounted the cottage stairs on shaky legs and collapsed into bed, pulling the duvet up to her chin. Ellie would wake her in a couple of hours’ time, and she prepared herself for a long day. But no matter how hard she tried, sleep wouldn’t come.

  48

  ‘I’m sorry, what did you just say?’ Charlotte grabbed her coffee mug with both hands as it nearly came crashing down on the kitchen table. Still in her dressing gown, her hair in a loose plait, her eyes slightly bleary from a disturbed night with Evan, she was instantly alert. The church bells for the Sunday dawn Eucharist were tolling as the two women sat down at Charlotte’s cluttered kitchen table, and Charlotte winced at their pitch.

  ‘I think you heard me,’ Anna said flatly.

  ‘With Tara? Darling, are you absolutely sure?’

  Anna nodded, unable to speak for a moment.

  ‘The bitch! The bastard!’ Charlotte put her mug down and jumped up. Crossing to the kitchen cupboard, she pulled out a bottle of brandy and unscrewed the cap. She poured a generous measure into both hers and Anna’s mugs. ‘Don’t look at me like that – if I need a slug of this, then you must need the whole bloody bottle!’ Before putting the cap back on, she took a nip from the neck before sitting back down.

  Anna sipped her now enriched coffee. The brandy warmed her a little, but she could still feel the sickness in her stomach.

  ‘I trusted him, Charlotte. I opened myself up to him, body and soul. And now this.’

  ‘And I presume you haven’t spoken to him about it?’ Charlotte asked gently.

  ‘No. I couldn’t face him. Although, frankly, he was so drunk at the Harvest Ball, I don’t think he’d have noticed if I’d gatecrashed his bedroom and started throwing crockery at his head.’ Her attempt at humour surprised her, but was swiftly replaced by another wave of desolation. ‘But if Meredith hadn’t come round last night… do you think he’d ever have told me himself?’

  ‘Who can say, darling?’ Charlotte took another gulp of her coffee, winced and put the mug back down. ‘Matthew always seemed so straight. So honest. I can’t believe it. I mean, Jonathan’s one thing, but Matthew?’

  ‘What am I going to do?’ Anna said, taking a more moderate sip from her own mug. ‘It’s so humiliating.’

  ‘You have done nothing wrong,’ Charlotte said furiously. ‘You are not to blame in this. If Matthew Carter wants to shag his ex-wife then that’s up to him. You have nothing to feel humiliated about.’

  ‘When I met her, I could tell she didn’t think I was much competition,’ Anna swallowed hard.

  Charlotte jumped up again and put her arms around Anna. ‘Don’t you dare take any notice of that bitch. She might be Meredith’s mother but that doesn’t make her a decent human being. And Matthew knows that. He’s made a colossal cock-up but he will realise what he’s lost.’

  Anna winced at Charlotte’s choice of words.

  ‘What do you want to do?’ Charlotte rubbed Anna’s shoulders.

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t want to see him right now. If it wasn’t for the tea shop I’d take Ellie away for a few days, try to get my head straight. I don’t feel like sticking around and stewing.’

  ‘Then do it,’ Charlotte said. ‘I’ll fill in for you, and if you don’t trust me alone, get Lizzie to keep an eye on me. I think I can vaguely remember how it works in there.’

  ‘Are you sure you’ve got time?’ Anna asked. Charlotte had a habit of taking things on breezily, and then realising too late she’d overstretched herself. It was her rather haphazard bookkeeping that had rendered the local toddler group in need of a professional accountant last year.

  Charlotte smiled sheepishly. ‘Well, it’s been a few years, but I did do that summer in there back before I had Evan.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘As I remember it was actually rather fun, but I was so crap at it that Ursula had to check virtually everything I did. She put up with it, but it eventually came to an end when I got too pregnant to fit between the tables. I think my skills might be better when I’m not up the duff!’

  ‘Are you sure you’ll be OK?’ Anna asked. ‘I mean, will you be able to work around Evan’s nursery hours?’

  ‘Oh, Simon’s not too busy at the moment so he can always do some childcare for once,’ Charlotte replied. ‘And I promise I won’t do a runner with the takings, either.’ She glanced back at Anna. ‘And it’ll only be for a few days, so not even I can trash your profit margin in that time.’

  ‘We’ve got a backup supplier f
or the cakes, who usually stepped in when Ursula and Brian took their holidays, so I’ll give them a ring, but Lizzie’s more than able to monitor the stock.’ She started suddenly. ‘I was going to take a few days off soon anyway, so it shouldn’t come as too much of a shock to Lizzie to see you on Monday morning. I’ll call her to let her know I’m bringing it forward, but I can’t face going into specifics, so could you not say too much?’

  ‘That all sounds fine,’ Charlotte said. ‘And it’ll give you a bit of breathing space. Things might look different in a few days.’

  Anna hugged Charlotte and then finished her coffee. Getting rather unsteadily to her feet, she gave her a watery smile. ‘Thank you. You’re a star.’

  ‘Rubbish. Now get going before you make me cry, too.’

  As Anna went to retrieve Ellie from Charlotte’s lounge, she wondered where the hell she was going to go.

  49

  Later than he’d intended on Sunday morning and feeling slightly the worse for wear, Matthew put the lead on Sefton and pulled the front door closed. Meredith hadn’t surfaced when he’d left the house, which was just as well as he didn’t want to have to explain exactly why he was looking, and feeling, so apprehensive. Nor did he want the third degree. The only person he wanted to talk to was Anna. And after his chat with Jonathan last night, he knew he couldn’t hold out on her any longer.

  Sefton ambled alongside his master, barely requiring the lead. Although ordinarily Matthew would have taken the dog through the orchard and come down Flowerdown Lane on the way back, today he decided to head straight for Pippin Cottage. What he had to say to Anna wouldn’t wait.

  The drizzle that had started as he’d left the house had intensified into a dirty autumn rain as he drew closer to his destination. He pulled his tweed cap a little further over his forehead, zipped up his Barbour and picked up the pace a little. How could he not have levelled with her? His actions had caused the wound that Tara’s return had reopened to fester, and that had infected his good sense and judgement to an unforgivable degree. He’d wasted so much time wallowing in resentment and guilt; now he needed to clear his conscience with Anna. He only hoped she’d still want to know him once he’d done so.

 

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