But she couldn’t drag her eyes away.
Maybe if there were no other customers, she would go in and have a look around.
Carrie moved closer to the glass and shielded her eyes with her hands to look past her own reflection and into the store.
It didn’t look too busy: a couple browsing a rail of clothes at one side and one member of staff sitting at the till. Carrie could just sidle in, pick up the lovely coral dress in two sizes and dash off to the changing rooms at the back before the shop assistant had a chance to challenge her.
The couple moved towards the doorway. The woman was older than Carrie, slender and elegant with a waterfall of caramel-blonde hair. She looked graceful and supremely confident in her linen trousers and belted cardigan. Carrie felt frumpy and ridiculous in her Lycra.
The woman pulled a jacket off the rail and held it up for inspection. The man, who had his back to Carrie, laughed. It was a deep, throaty and horribly familiar sound. One that Carrie would recognize anywhere. She stared at the man in confusion.
Alex?
An urgent pulse started beating in her right temple: thump, thump, thump. Her vision went fuzzy at the edges, the inside of the shop twisted out of focus until all she could see was the woman placing her hand on Alex’s arm and leading him across the sales floor.
Her husband was shopping with another woman.
Carrie stumbled, gasping for air, sideways to the far edge of the shop window out of sight. All thoughts of the coral dress evaporated like a dream. She clung to the window frame for support.
Alex was having an affair.
Why else would he be laughing and joking with this picture of loveliness in a ladies’ clothes shop?
Carrie tried to breathe in and a great heaving sob escaped. She clapped her hand over her mouth to hold in the ugly noise. For ten years she had been married to this man. She couldn’t remember the exact words of their marriage vows but she was almost certain that fingering flimsy fabrics with another woman wasn’t included. Forsaking all others was definitely in there somewhere, and so was being faithful as long as they both shall live.
Despite how much it hurt, Carrie stole another look inside the shop. Alex and his lady friend were looking into each other’s eyes, standing far too close for Carrie’s comfort. Alex took out his phone and tapped away, grinning at the woman shyly like a schoolboy.
Carrie had never looked at another man like that since her wedding day.
She tried to recall the last time Alex had taken her shopping, other than to a garden centre or a supermarket.
She stood, jaw tight with the effort of not crying, and stared. The two of them were at the cash desk now. Carrie lifted a hand to her face just in case Alex spotted her, not that he would. I am invisible to him, she thought again. He was still laughing. He was never that animated with her. Not any more.
She began to walk away, feeling light-headed. She left the arcade and went out into the damp muggy air, no longer caring about the rain. She walked as far as the nearest bench and sat down on the wet wooden slats.
She dialled Sarah’s number but it went straight to voicemail, so she tried Jo.
Jo answered instantly.
‘Jo? Oh, thank goodness! I’ve just seen Alex; I don’t know what to do. Do I go in, do I walk away? Nothing like this has ever happened to me before—’
‘Carrie? Slow down, I can’t understand you.’
‘I’m in town,’ cried Carrie. ‘And—’
‘Good. Are you going shopping? Have you bought clothes? Do not, under any circumstances, buy anything that makes you look like a Greek widow.’
‘I saw a dress I liked in a window and—’
‘Right. Listen to me, Carrie, I want you to go in and—’
‘I can’t.’
‘You can! Anyway, why are you whispering? Are you crying?’
‘I can’t go in the shop because Alex is in there. With a woman. Jo, he’s having an affair!’
‘Oh shit. Are you sure?’
‘Of course I’m sure. He’s in there mooning all over her. He never takes me shopping. I’ve lost all this weight and he chooses now to be unfaithful. Or perhaps … perhaps this has been going on behind my back for years?’
A sudden wave of nausea hit her and she let out a moan. A smartly dressed woman looked over at her with concern. Carrie turned her face away.
‘What are you going to do? Don’t do anything silly.’
‘I’m going to buy myself the biggest bag of crisps and a giant bar of chocolate and I’m going to stuff my face. And then … I don’t know what I’m going to do then!’ Carrie groaned. ‘Nothing will ever be the same, ever again.’
‘Oh love,’ soothed Jo. ‘Try not to panic. Go home and ring me when you get there, OK?’
‘Home,’ said Carrie with a sob in her voice. ‘Oh God.’
She ended the call to Jo abruptly and ran faster than she’d run for years back to the car park, vaguely grateful that her comfy clothes had finally come in useful. If Alex left her she would no longer have a home; she owned nothing, earned nothing, deserved nothing.
What a stupid, stupid woman.
Chapter 25
A buzzing noise in Carrie’s head forced her to lift her cheek off the kitchen table. After a few seconds it stopped. Thank goodness. She’d been crying for so long that she’d given herself a headache. She probably looked awful; her eyes would be swollen and bloodshot and she felt sick too. In front of her was an empty wrapper from a giant bar of chocolate. A rising tide of nausea surged from her stomach up to her throat. She couldn’t have eaten the whole thing, could she?
The noise started again, rattling insistently at her brain. She pressed her hand to her temple but the sound wasn’t coming from inside her head after all. There was movement in front of her; an empty, family-sized bag of Maltesers danced its way across the table. Please say she hadn’t eaten them as well? She stared at the bag for a moment before she spotted her mobile vibrating beneath it.
Willing her hand to cooperate, she reached for the phone but changed her mind at the last second. She wasn’t convinced she could hang on to her stomach contents and talk so she let it ring. It would be Jo checking up on her. Or Sarah returning her call. Thank God she had friends to turn to at a time like this.
She belched, loud and gassy. How ladylike, she thought, grimacing. She cast her eye over the table. An empty bottle of full-fat Coke. No glass. Fantastic – bingeing and swigging. Disgusting. She knew without even reading the packaging that she had managed to put away over two thousand calories in one sitting. And after all her hard work over the past months. No wonder she felt sick.
She heaved herself up from the table and poured a glass of water from the tap. Her poor stomach was threatening to rebel at any moment and she clutched it, shuddering as the cold water trickled down her throat and into her belly.
A cold shower. That’s what she needed. She would take her water and a bowl in case she was sick, go upstairs and let the jets of icy water shake her from this nausea while she rehearsed what she was going to say to Alex. She was definitely going to confront him about his lunchtime tête-à-tête. No more Mrs Nice Guy, it was time to take a stand.
Carrie got as far as the doorway before remembering the missed call. She picked up her phone and listened to the message. It wasn’t from the girls, it was from Alex.
‘I’m coming home early tonight; I’ve got something to tell you.’
Carrie threw up all over the floor, completely missing the bowl.
Ten minutes later, she was on her third bucket of detergent and still finding splashes of vomit in hard-to-reach places. She would never, ever eat chocolate again as long as she lived. She doubted she would ever be able to stand the smell of cola again either.
If only Sarah would miraculously knock on her door armed with some antibacterial wipes and a pair of rubber gloves. She could do with a friend at this precise moment; she felt completely out of her depth. The thought of Alex coming home and confes
sing his affair was enough to make her feel sick again. Carrie needed help; she didn’t know what to do or say at all.
Sarah would know what to do. She sat down at the table and called Sarah’s mobile. She would be at work, but Carrie was sure she wouldn’t mind the call, not for an emergency like the end of her marriage. A sob caught in her throat as Sarah’s phone switched to voicemail. She hung up without leaving a message.
She stowed the mop and bucket back in the utility room and checked the kitchen clock. Alex had said he’d be home early. How early was early? It was four o’clock already. He could be home any minute.
She wandered out into the hall, feeling weak and hollow, and stopped in front of her favourite pink roses in the vase in the hallway. She pulled a few dead petals away and rearranged the stems. She buried her nose in the blooms, inhaling their scent. Pink symbolized gracefulness. She lifted her head and caught sight of her reflection in the mirror behind the vase. If she hadn’t felt so awful, she might have laughed. Her face was pink, but she looked anything but graceful. Also, the long front pieces of her hair had gone crisp. Gross. She shuddered, realizing what was stuck in her not-so-shiny bob.
And you wonder why your husband is being unfaithful?
The slam of a car door on the drive almost made her heart explode in panic.
Alex was home.
Carrie gave a yelp. She wasn’t ready to face him; she was speckled with vomit and hadn’t worked out what she was going to say yet. All clarity of thought vanished as she darted into the living room, then back out, then into the kitchen. With seconds to spare she ran along the hall bent double in case he could somehow see her through the two-foot-thick brick walls, scrambled up the stairs and dived into bed, squealing with inexplicable fear as Alex’s key turned in the lock.
‘It’s me,’ he called.
Carrie held her breath as she heard her husband drop his keys on the hall table.
‘Are you home, petal?’ he called.
Petal? How dare he call her that? Carrie threw back the covers and jumped out of bed indignantly. The bedframe squeaked, revealing her location. Damn.
‘You’re up there, are you? I’ll come up.’
Carrie’s heart was pounding in her ears. How could he sound so normal? So cheerful?
She grabbed a hairbrush, desperately trying to sort out her hair in the remaining ten seconds before Alex appeared at the bedroom door. But the bristles got tangled in her matted locks and she threw it down in frustration.
‘Hello, been having a little nap, darling?’ Alex chuckled, taking in the messed-up bed.
Her mouth opened and closed silently as she took in his easy smile, heart-stopping gorgeous dark eyes and unruffled appearance. This was awful. A part of her had always known this would happen – that he would leave her – but this was so much worse than she could ever have imagined.
A shadow of concern crossed his face. ‘You’re not ill, are you?’
‘No,’ she said with difficulty; her mouth felt like sandpaper. ‘Not ill.’
I love you. Give me another chance.
She swallowed down her thoughts and took a deep breath. He might have caught her on the hop, but she had to remain dignified. She wanted to look back at the day they split up and know that she had behaved admirably. He’d hate it if she caused a scene.
‘Glad to hear it. Oh,’ he produced a bunch of sweet peas from behind his back, the ends wrapped in silver foil, ‘I brought you these. Didn’t buy them, obviously, I passed Mr Ogden in the village and—’
A surge of anger spilled out of her before she could stop it.
‘Sweet peas? How could you?!’
She leapt at him, knocked the flowers out of his hands and beat his chest with her fists.
‘What’s wrong with them?’ Alex’s jaw dropped and he staggered backwards.
‘Thank you and goodbye!’ cried Carrie. She pushed past him into the en-suite bathroom and locked the door.
‘What are you talking about, petal?’ came a bewildered voice through the bathroom door.
‘That’s what sweet peas mean,’ sobbed Carrie. ‘And don’t call me petal.’
‘You’re not making sense.’
‘It’s subliminal. That is what you wanted to tell me, isn’t it? Thanks for the good times but now it’s over?’
Carrie could hear some scrabbling coming from the other side of the door. Dammit, these doors were so easy to force open. She sat on the loo, grabbed some paper and dabbed at her face as Alex forced the bathroom lock open with a coin.
She looked up at his concerned face and her shoulders slumped. Oh, what the hell. What was the point of trying to hang on to him? He deserved someone beautiful, like that elegant creature in the shop. Carrie could never hope to compete with her, no matter how much weight she lost. She sighed, her breath coming out in shuddery bursts, and resigned herself to letting go of her husband, the only man she had ever truly loved.
‘Darling?’ said Alex softly, kneeling in front of her and taking her soft hands in his. ‘What’s the problem? One minute you’re in bed and the next you’re attacking me with a perfectly innocent bunch of Mr Ogden’s flowers.’
‘The problem is, I already know,’ Carrie sniffed. ‘I already know why you’re home early.’
She lifted her head to meet his eyes and then looked down at her lap again. There were two wet patches on the knees of her leggings from where she’d been kneeling on the kitchen floor. No wonder Alex had looked elsewhere. Frankly, he was a saint to have hung around this long.
His lips twitched. ‘I don’t think you do …’
Carrie glared at him and shifted uncomfortably on the lid of the toilet. Her marriage was going down the pan and Alex found it funny?
‘I saw you today,’ she blurted out in a wobbly voice.
‘What?’ His eyes widened. ‘Where?’
‘In town.’
‘Oh.’ Alex tutted. Carrie watched as his face changed from confusion to disappointment. A wave of sadness washed over her. Had he so desperately wanted to break the news to her himself? Was he cross that she had spoilt his big announcement?
She could just see him, with an earnest expression, explaining how he hadn’t meant to hurt her, how this new love was too powerful to ignore and even though it caused him pain to do so, he needed to be with his flaxen-haired filly. Carrie was livid. Alex was a big … self-centred … pig.
Without a second thought, she leaned forward and shoved Alex backwards. He yelped in pain as he toppled awkwardly into the shower cubicle. Then she dashed from the bathroom and ran down the stairs.
Forgetting her earlier promise to forgo chocolate for ever more, Carrie dragged a chair over to the tallest kitchen cupboard and raided the top shelf for her emergency, unopened box of after-dinner mints. She ran a fingernail along the cellophane and, still standing on the chair, grabbed a handful of individually wrapped chocolate squares and slipped one in her mouth.
What did it matter if she was fat? What did it even matter if she made herself sick? When Alex left, there would be no one here to criticize her, there would be no need to please anyone else. She was going to be living on her own after today and she could do as she damn well liked, starting right now.
‘Jesus Christ!’ Alex recoiled at the smell, his eyes taking in the chocolate wrappers on the table. ‘What’s been going on, Carrie?’
‘I’ve been sick. That’s what, Alex.’ Carrie wiped a trail of sticky mint fondant from her chin and dropped the box on to the worktop. ‘Sick at the sight of you and your … your … I bet you thought you were safe, didn’t you?’ She pelted him with a handful of chocolates and he retreated to the doorway nervously.
‘That you wouldn’t be spotted. Well, ha! I did see you and you have broken my heart.’
She stopped, out of ammunition and out of breath. What was she doing? She had vowed not to make a scene, to behave in a self-respecting manner, gracious even in the face of her husband’s betrayal. Instead, she was standing on a chair, with
snot and tears running down her face, hair crusted with vomit, pelting him with After Eight mints.
Her head started to spin and she lurched forward. Alex immediately rushed over and tried to help her down.
‘Get off me!’ she hissed. He would put his back out. Another amusing anecdote to tell the new mistress.
Carrie couldn’t stay here. She was a laughing stock. An embarrassment. She pushed past him, picked up her handbag from the hall and fled to her car.
‘Do not follow me,’ she yelled. ‘I mean it, Alex. Stay away from me.’
As she started the car and began to reverse off the drive, she caught a glimpse of Alex in her rear-view mirror, hands on hips and shaking his head.
Jo’s flat. That’s where she would go. She might even get drunk and stay the night.
Chapter 26
Despite the heavy Friday afternoon traffic, Jo and Patrick made it back to Gold’s before five o’clock. Patrick steered Jo’s car into her personal parking space and handed her the keys.
There had been no word from Global Duty Free. But on the plus side, Patrick had calmed down and had stopped asking her to check his phone for messages. Carrie hadn’t rung again either. Jo was worried about her and furious with Alex. Carrie had really begun to build her confidence over these last few months; whatever Alex was up to, this was bound to knock her progress. She had always suspected there was something going on there. Jo made a mental note to call Carrie as soon as she could. But right now, she needed to focus all her attention on securing the Global Duty Free order.
‘We must play it cool when we go in,’ said Jo, as they were lifting the bags out of the boot. ‘The staff are counting on this deal, I don’t want to raise their hopes only to dash them again.’
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