Second Chances

by Minna Howard

  ‘They take seven years to grow.’ He showed her one that he had grafted himself, which was about to flower.

  ‘They are your most favourite things, are they not?’ she asked, studying some small flasks on the bench, containing yet more growing orchids.

  ‘They are. I was about to make an expedition with a group to Thailand to look for some, when I inherited the glass factory. So that was put on hold, but yes, they are a bit of an obsession.’ He took her in his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head. ‘But I can have other obsessions, too.’

  She knew how much he wanted his conservatory for them, but she said nothing. Her life had changed so completely, and she had learnt from Dan’s defection not to give everything away. To her relief, Robert did not mention it.

  *

  Dan rang, to remind her about the money.

  ‘I think we should divorce, let the courts decide,’ she said. ‘And you should marry that woman.’

  ‘We’ve talked about that, Sarah and how much money lawyers take.’

  ‘I know, but I think we should, now you have a child.’ She rang off before she got further embroiled with him and he renewed his demand for the money. She didn’t have it now, perhaps she would in the future if Celine’s dream came off, but she was reluctant to give him the rest now when she was quite short herself, it wasn’t as if he were destitute. He’d made his decision; if he’d stayed with her, this would not have arisen.

  The time ticked on closer to her trip to America. They would be gone for almost a month, travelling round seeing other shops and her feelings were confused. She longed to go, and yet that meant leaving Robert behind. No one, not their children, not even Celine, knew about their love affair, though Celine had remarked on her looks, her radiant face.

  ‘Your talent has paid off at last. You see how fulfilled it has made you feel? How much confidence it has given you? You look fantastic. It’s better than love, isn’t it?’

  Sarah smiled. There would be plenty of time to tell Celine about Robert. It was still so new, so magical, she did not want to discuss it. She could imagine Celine saying, ‘Not that man next door? Whatever are you thinking of? He’ll make you sell the house for his blessed orchids, or move them in and make you adapt your life to accommodate them.’ She had to admit that thought was at the back of her own mind. And once people knew about their relationship, they would throw up questions, questions that might have awkward answers, and she did not want to think about that just now.

  Robert was unusually quiet one evening. They were sitting together in her house after dinner. He said at last, ‘If it’s not intrusive, can I ask why, if your husband’s left you and has a child with someone else, you are not divorced?’

  She was surprised at his question. They hardly ever discussed Dan at all. She didn’t want to, in case he mentioned any deal he and Dan had made over the house.

  ‘Dan said we’d have more money between us if we didn’t involve lawyers, but I do want to divorce him now. Only, I’m afraid I’ll have to give him more of the money from the last house, though he is living in his girlfriend’s… partner’s flat.’ She didn’t say any more, concerned that Robert would guess that if she had to pay him she would have to sell her house. She wondered if he knew that; had discussed it with Dan.

  ‘I see.’ He watched her intently, his eyes inscrutable.

  She felt a pang of unease and said a little sharply, ‘Why do you want to know?’

  ‘I want to know if you still love him, if you are holding on in case he comes back. Some men do, you know, they realise the foolish mistake they have made; and you obviously have some feelings for him.’ He glanced over to a photograph on the table. A laughing group – Dan, Sarah and the children. A picture she’d kept to remind herself of the happier times.

  She did not jump up and go to Robert, kiss away his fears, swear she loved only him. She sat there and thought over his words. Why did she still hold on to Dan; why did she not let him go? He had hurt her more than anyone had ever hurt her before, but love could not be turned off as easily as that. Twenty-four years and two children did not vanish in a moment.

  ‘I understand your feelings,’ Robert said gently, ‘but ask yourself this: if he knocked on that door now and wanted to come back, what would you do?’

  ‘He has a new baby now,’ she said, to stall for time.

  He shrugged. ‘So? That might not stop him wanting to come back to you. What would you do?’ His question lay heavy in the air between them. No one had asked her so pointedly before; no one had needed to.

  She could not look at him, because she wanted to be honest with him. She knew what he was asking; he was not a man to give his love lightly. If he gave his love to her, would she give hers unequivocally to him, or would she wish that he was Dan as he used to be? There must be no half-measures.

  ‘I wouldn’t take him back,’ she said at last. ‘Not as he is now. We had a very happy marriage, or I thought we did. I became part of him and him me. Losing him is…’ she laughed awkwardly, ‘as they say, like cutting off a limb. But it is foolish to go on clinging to the past. He has changed, I have changed, and I do love you.’

  ‘Do you trust me?’

  She almost cried out ‘Of course’, but she did not. She did not completely trust him, not if she thought of the house. Dan’s defection had broken her trust in men. Did Robert love her more than he loved his orchids?

  She turned to him to explain this. He watched her intently. He smiled, but it was a sad smile. He got up.

  ‘Lay the ghost to rest, darling, once and for all; without that we have no future together.’ He blew her a kiss and left the room. She heard him climb back over the ladder into his garden, and then she heard him pull the ladder in her garden back over to his side of the wall.

  She sat there a long time, thinking over his words. It was not fair to give a person only half your love because the rest of it was still stuck in the past with someone else. Now the thought of going away and leaving it unresolved bothered her. Would the love they’d shared wilt and die as his tender plants had when she had broken them? But this trip to the States was a gift, an amazing chance at independence and success. She could not let it go.

  The following day, she went to the bank to pick up her US dollars. Celine was giving the staff left in charge of the shop one last lecture.

  She waited by the traffic lights to cross the road. Just up the road, a woman was feeding the meter in front of a rather battered four-door BMW. A man pushing a buggy came towards her.

  ‘Sarah.’

  It could not be; this strained ageing man could not possibly be Dan. Her shock must have shown on her face, for he said rather grumpily, ‘I saw you in Vogue. Polly showed me.’

  ‘Yes. I’m off to the States on Thursday with Celine.’ She wondered where the red frog of a sports car was, then realised that a baby and all its paraphernalia would not fit into a two seater sports car. Even if it did, it would somehow spoil the image he had destroyed so much in order to achieve. His life had gone round in a circle, and he was back to a less glamorous family car as before.

  The mouse quickly joined them. She stood close to Dan, her hand on his on the handle of the buggy. She stared at Sarah defiantly. Sarah made herself look into the buggy, expecting to see a miniature Tim or Polly, but the pale, dribbling baby hardly resembled Dan at all. Tim and Polly had been such lovely babies, glowing and happy, but this one looked miserable, a bit like her mother. She waited for the pain of Dan’s betrayal to hit her, crush her heart in its savage teeth, but it did not.

  The baby opened its mouth and screamed. The mouse leant over it. Dan’s face became agitated. The lights changed. Sarah felt him looking at her, studying her as if he had not seen her before.

  ‘Oh, Dan,’ she said quietly, so that the mouse would not hear. ‘Tell me, was it worth it?’

  He did not answer her, but she sensed from his manner that it was not. But he was a loyal man – for a while, anyway – he knew it was too
late and there was no going back. Sarah crossed the road quickly, leaving them behind her.

  Dan had gone backwards while she was charging forwards to so many new and wonderful things. Her heart was suddenly free, soaring like a bird, flying into an endless sky.

  Twenty-Four

  With the dollars safely stashed in her bag, Sarah raced back to the shop, bubbling with euphoria, a new lightness round her heart. She was over Dan. He had changed from the man she knew and loved when he had left her, but she had stubbornly clung on to the person he used to be, harbouring a secret thought that he would suddenly reappear and their life would go on again, happy and tranquil. But seeing him today, tied up in his new life, bound irrevocably with the ties of recent fatherhood, she accepted that he would never again be the man she once loved.

  She must tell Robert – quickly, now, before she got bogged down in the last-minute preparations for going to the States. She dialled his mobile but it went straight to voice mail. He was probably in a meeting or something. She’d have to wait until she got home tonight to tell him. Her heart and body sang at the thought of it.

  There was so much to do at the shop that she did not manage to leave until after seven. It was a cold night, but she barely felt it in her agitation to get to Robert and tell him she was free of her emotional ties to Dan. The bus journey seemed interminable, stopping and starting like something in pain. Many times she almost jumped off to run up the road, but then the bus would start up again, lumbering on quite hopefully before juddering to another stop.

  She turned round the corner into their street, her heart beating with excitement. Robert’s house was in darkness. He was still at work, consulting somewhere or someone, she told herself, to soothe the slap of bitter disappointment. But looking at his house again, her heart stopped. There, standing proudly by the gate, was a FOR SALE sign. For one second she thought it had been put up outside her own house but, as she hurried onwards, she saw by the light of the streetlamp that it was fixed firmly on to Robert’s side.

  It could not be true. Only two days ago they had been lovers. Had he had enough of her, and decided to escape to Scotland and sell his house here?

  Panic and despair chased through her, leaving her staggering and weak. All the old pain of rejection and the terrible ache of loneliness, which his love for her had healed, now seized her again in a vice. Had he just gone, left her without a word? Perhaps he’d left her one of his famous letters. She fumbled with her key and pushed open the door. A pile of letters and various flyers lay on the mat. She sifted through them quickly, but there was nothing from him. She ran into the living room; he must have left her a message on the answerphone, but there was no red button flashing at her. She checked her mobile; no message there either.

  It was over. She slumped down on a chair. There was no commitment today; why should there be, when modern morals almost encouraged people to perfect their lovemaking skills with many partners, as they might perfect their golf swing? Why settle for one, when there was a whole host of choices out there? But why hadn’t he told her he was leaving? And why so suddenly? Had he known all along that he was going? Perhaps his glass business made it necessary that he live in Scotland. Perhaps he’d thought that woman, Helen Donaldson, she’d seen him with in Scotland, free of encumbrances, would be a more peaceful partner.

  But despite her prejudices, her distrust of him, that he might use any means he could to get her house, she had fallen in love with him. Still loved him, she admitted, as the pain tore through her. She must not let this grind her down. It was just another setback, as all the others had been on her difficult path to her new, independent life. She had, after all, achieved something more lasting, something she could not have done if she was still married to Dan. She was a professional designer now, on her way to important and lucrative deals in the States. She might not spend much time here if it went well, and a love affair would only hold her back.

  The phone rang, and she jumped up as eager as Polly to answer it. It was Celine.

  ‘My, you sound eager. It can’t be for me. Who did you hope it was?’

  ‘Oh… no one, I mean one of the children. But how are you, got home all right?’

  ‘Of course, Sarah. I only had to walk ten minutes down the road. Why wouldn’t I? There’s something up, isn’t there? You’re not waiting for a lover, are you?’ There was laughter in her voice, and Sarah resisted the urge to pour out the whole sorry tale.

  ‘Me? No such luck. What’s up?’ She hoped she sounded carefree.

  ‘I just wanted to go over the travel plans again. We didn’t have much time in the shop. We take the afternoon plane on Thursday, from Heathrow. I’ll book a cab to take us, put it down to the business.’

  ‘Why not a limo, while you’re at it?’ Sarah tried to joke.

  ‘Next time.’ Celine laughed. ‘But something’s up, I know it. You’re not getting cold feet and running out, are you?’

  ‘Goodness, no. It’s just I got back to find a “for sale” sign on Robert’s house. It’s quite a surprise. He didn’t tell me.’

  ‘Well done, you’ve won!’ Celine enthused. ‘Don’t you see? As he failed in his devious tricks to get your house, he’s decided to move on. Perhaps he didn’t really want it at all, but was just trying to wield some sort of power over you. I’m so glad. Everything is coming right for you, Sarah, and about time, too. You deserve it after what you’ve been through. This trip, your talent as a designer being recognised, and now your house safe from that scheming man.’

  She’d burst into tears in a minute, those stupid tears that threatened to engulf her at every point. She couldn’t tell Celine that she longed for Robert, wanted him to stay on, whatever his terms. Celine would not stand for it; she would tell her in no uncertain fashion that she was a fool for being controlled by her emotions and, having just been freed from loving Dan, for preparing to jump straight back in to the quicksand again with another man.

  ‘Got something cooking,’ she said. ‘See you tomorrow. I’ll be there by lunchtime.’ She rang off. She had a few more designs to polish up and she was staying at home to do them.

  She hardly slept that night, listening for Robert to return, but he did not. She struggled out of bed in the morning and forced herself to work. But half of her was straining to hear him return or at least to text her. She would not try and contact him as he had sneaked off without telling her, she had her pride after all.

  Some people passed her window and stopped by Robert’s house. She tensed; she heard his front door open, the ping as his alarm kicked in, then silence as it was turned off.

  Had he come back with some friends? It was nearly time for her to leave to go to the shop. She packed up her designs, she’d take them with her. She’d work on them better in the shop with Celine and the girls around, making her feel she must get on, not sit dreaming and brooding. She got ready quickly, hearing from time to time the sounds of people moving round his house. She hovered in the hall, thinking to ring his bell with some simple enquiry before she left for work. But she heard his front door open, and she opened her door and went out on her way to work.

  A young man with a middle-aged couple stood on the pavement looking up at the structure of the house. The woman was dowdy, her face apathetic with exhaustion. The man turned to her; his face lit up, a sickly smirk on his pudgy face.

  ‘Good morning! We might be your new neighbours,’ he said with a leer, his pink hands darting like fish in her direction.

  She ran down the street and up the road to the bus stop. If that man moved in, she would leave. Horrific images of him leering over her fence and those hideous little hands trying to catch her as they passed in the street loomed up to torture her.

  Celine was out most of the day, seeing to various financial details, but Sarah felt too dispirited to confide in her. She got home again after seven, dawdling on her way, dreading to see Robert’s empty house. As she feared, it was still in darkness, but she forced herself to put in a load of washing
and think about her packing for her trip.

  Glancing out at her garden from the kitchen, she saw that the light was on in Robert’s garden. It hadn’t been on last night. Had an estate agent left it on? She opened the door to her garden and slipped out. It was cold, the wind nipping at her like a terrier. She heard a movement from the other side of the wall, and she went over to the fence that divided them.

  ‘Robert?’ She said his name quietly, wondering what she would do if it was some intruder.

  ‘Yes.’

  One word. Was it his voice? She tried to peer through the trellis, but it was difficult to see among the shadows.

  ‘Is it you or some thief?’ she said loudly, her heart lifting just a little.

  ‘It’s me.’ He was close to the wall, and though she could not see him, she could feel him there.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were going to put your house on the market?’ she asked. ‘I might have wanted to buy it myself.’

  ‘You can’t afford it,’ he said. ‘I want a quick sale.’

  ‘Are you going to live in Scotland?’ The pain was back again, twisting in her like poison, but she would not let him know.

  ‘I don’t know, here or there, it doesn’t matter.’

  ‘But your orchids – where will they go?’

  There was a silence. For a moment she thought he had gone back inside, then he said, ‘While I have this house, I know you will never trust me. You’ll suspect everything I do as trying in some devious way to possess your house. By selling mine, I thought it might show you that I love you more than this house, more even than my orchids.’