‘Thanks, Vince.’ She gave him a kiss on the cheek.
‘Day by day,’ Vince reminded her.
Now that the year was on the downhill stretch, it was already dark by five o’clock. The glow of lights from the other houses on her street made Liz feel like that Victorian urchin again. Two years ago, she was on the inside. She would have been in the kitchen, making supper for her husband and child, indulging the family dog with treats he wasn’t supposed to have. She would have been part of a picture of domestic bliss.
Except that it wasn’t ever really like that. Liz would have been reheating a ready meal for a teenager who could hardly bear to speak to her. Feeding treats to a dog that was already unhealthily obese. All while her husband met his lover in a health food café in Exeter. How many times had Ian worked late during his last year in the family home? How many times had she believed him? Even when he was at home, Ian preferred to be upstairs in his study ‘answering important emails’ than snuggled up on the sofa with his wife.
Would it have been better to try to sustain all those lies just to keep the status quo? Life might not be perfect, but at least Liz wasn’t kidding herself any more. Now that everything she’d cherished had been stripped back to what it really was, Liz could see what really needed to be done. There was no more bad news waiting to ambush her like dry rot waiting beneath the polished floorboards of a beautiful home.
Liz let herself into the house. Ted greeted her as though she was back from a round the world trip.
‘At least you’ll always love me. It’s been a long day, hasn’t it?’ Liz agreed with him. She was going to talk with Vince about the possibility of taking a longer lunch hour so that she could come home in the middle of the day and take Ted for a walk. He deserved much more of her attention.
Saskia wasn’t at home. It was one of Ian’s weekends. He would be picking Saskia up from her rehearsal at the NEWTS’ theatre that night before taking her to Brittney’s pristine cream flat. Saskia was still barely talking to Liz after the humiliation of the previous weekend. She claimed that she could not walk down the school corridor without someone making a reference to salami. Liz had ‘ruined her life’. Again.
Ordinarily, Liz’s weekends without Saskia were quiet affairs if Corinne hadn’t managed to persuade her former husband to spend some time with their twins. That weekend was set to be especially quiet. It didn’t mean it had to be miserable though. So long as she stayed away from Brittney’s Bites.com.
Liz did not stay away from Brittney’s Bites.com.
It was Friday. It was time for Friday Inspo. Didn’t everybody need some?
Liz scrolled down through Brittney’s post. She was still waiting for some sort of comeback regarding the Fiat fiasco but Brittney’s Friday Inspo was fairly innocuous. There was a handbag – a ‘bargain’ mini cross-over body affair by Philip Lim that could really only be considered a bargain if you were prepared to shoplift it. There was a recipe. Vegan hot dogs in a quinoa bun. Just right for Bonfire Night. Perhaps you could use them as kindling.
However, there was no quote from the Dalai Lama. That Friday, Brittney had written an essay. Liz settled in to read it.
‘Greetings, dear readers! How has the universe been blessing you today? Have you remembered to thank the goddess for all that she has given you and your beloveds?
‘Autumn can be a very melancholy time of year. It feels as though things are coming to an end but the important thing to remember is that every year must have its seasons. If we didn’t have an autumn and a winter, we wouldn’t have spring and summer. However, the past few weeks have felt like autumn in my heart as well as in the world at large.
‘Dear reader, I’ve been struggling, I can tell you. Though I know that we can always close the door on negativity – especially that of other people – by surrounding ourselves with light, I was really finding it hard. When you find out that someone has got such a high level of hatred for you – hatred is the only word I can use to describe it – as I discovered someone had for me, quite unjustifiably …’
Liz scoffed at that.
‘… it can feel as though they are actually aiming real arrows at your heart.
‘Some of you know that I have come under severe psychic attack these past few weeks and I worried for a while that my darling BF did not have my back. That has changed. There are still a few real world legal details to iron out, but after that we will be moving forwards again. You’ll hear about every step of our journey and you’ll see the pictures too. My Darling BF and I have agreed that it’s time to make a stronger commitment …’
Liz almost snorted a mouthful of tea across the computer screen.
Brittney’s post could mean only one thing. Ian must have asked her to marry him. Those ‘few real world legal details’ must be referring to Liz and Ian’s divorce. Was an engagement ring the price Brittney had demanded for keeping the salami debacle out of the courts?
‘No,’ Liz muttered. ‘No, no, no.’
But when Liz read Brittney’s post again she could only come to the same conclusion. Ian was going to marry Brittney the blogger, the twenty-four-year-old he had once described as looking like a lolly stick with a chipmunk’s head. How far they’d come from the night when he came home from first having met her and they both laughed at one of her vegan vlogs? The laugh was only on Liz now.
Or it would be if she didn’t pull herself together.
Brittney hadn’t actually said she was getting married. Deepening commitment could mean anything. Ian would have to ask Saskia before he pulled out any engagement ring and Liz was pretty sure that no matter how much Saskia liked being in Brittney’s fashion shoots, actually having her as a step-mother would be another thing entirely. Yes. Liz was sure Saskia wouldn’t approve.
She read the post one more time. It shouldn’t matter to her. Hadn’t Liz told Ian that it was time they moved on properly? They’d been apart for a year. It was over. And wasn’t that for the best? Was Liz’s self-esteem really so low that she still wanted Ian, who had treated her with such disrespect, to change his mind?
She sent the link to Brittney’s latest post to Corinne to get her opinion of it. Did she think Brittney was talking about a wedding?
‘Wishful thinking,’ was Corinne’s response. That made Liz feel a little better.
‘Step away from the computer,’ Corinne continued. ‘You’ll drive yourself mad. Or should that be “madder”? ’
Corinne was right. Liz turned off her computer and went downstairs to the kitchen. At least she didn’t have to cook anything. She’d saved the previous night’s beef Wellington, knowing that Saskia would not want any. They’d eaten pasta with tomato sauce (made to Alex’s recipe). Saskia had complained that it ‘didn’t taste like normal’ but she ate it all the same.
Liz turned on the oven and watched the clock impatiently as the uncooked pastry grew crisp and golden. Ted joined her and did his best to remind her that beef was his favourite thing.
‘You can’t have pastry,’ Liz told him. ‘You may no longer be a member of WWL, but you’re definitely still on the diet.’
She poured some kibble into his bowl. Ted made it clear from the way that he looked at Liz that he was thoroughly unimpressed. He went back to watching the oven.
‘You can have some broccoli if you like?’ Liz told him as she put some on the stove for herself.
Ted’s glance was utterly disdainful.
Liz was just sitting down to eat her dinner when the doorbell rang.
It was eight o’clock. Not terribly late but still a little late to pay a visit unannounced. Liz frowned. She would not be happy if it was a Jehovah’s Witness or a salesman. But Ted had not barked. In fact, he was wagging his tail. Ted would ordinarily be trying to tear a hole in the door to get at a salesman’s jugular. It must be someone that Ted, and by extension Liz, already knew.
Liz turned on the porch light to illuminate her caller. She recognised the slightly stooped posture at once.
It w
as Ian.
Chapter Forty-Six
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked as she opened the door just a crack.
‘Nice to see you too,’ said Ian.
‘Why didn’t you call to let me know you were coming over?’
‘I thought I’d surprise you.’
More likely, Liz thought, he was worried that Brittney would check the call records on his phone.
‘I might not have been in,’ Liz said.
‘Saskia said you would be.’
Of course. Ian was going to pick Saskia up at the NEWTS after her rehearsal. He hadn’t come miles out of his way. He had an hour to kill and he probably didn’t want to put his hand in his pocket to buy a pint in the NEWTS’ bar.
‘Well, can I come in?’ he asked.
‘Sure. It’s still half your house. Technically.’
Ian’s nose started twitching as he took off his coat in the hall.
‘Something smells good. What have you been cooking?’
‘A beef Wellington,’ said Liz.
Ian’s expression told her he was impressed.
‘Isn’t that quite advanced?’
‘Not at all.’
Ian followed her into the kitchen. Ted brought up the rear after sniffing Ian’s jacket to check for treats.
‘I haven’t eaten beef in months,’ said Ian. ‘I know this vegan diet is good for me but … your dinner smells really good, you know.’
‘Do you want some?’ Liz asked.
‘Can I?’
‘There’s enough for two, I think.’
‘Then I’d love some, thanks. I’m ravenous.’
‘So long as nobody tells Brittney, eh?’
Ian grimaced.
Liz got out two plates.
This was the first time Liz had eaten with her husband since the night before he left to live with the Blogger. She tried to remember what they’d had on that unremarkable night before Ian detonated the grenade that would blow their marriage to pieces. It was a Thursday, so they’d probably had lasagne. A Charlie Bigham’s lasagne. With their rustic packaging, Charlie Bigham’s ready meals were easily as good as home cooking. At least that was what Liz used to tell herself. Ian certainly hadn’t complained back in the day. Before he was introduced to the delights of quinoa.
Arranging slices of beef in pastry on Ian’s plate, Liz thought back to that last supper and wondered if she should have known what was coming. But no, she was pretty sure Ian hadn’t been off his food.
While Liz put the finishing touches to their supper, Ian had seated himself in what had always been his chair. He didn’t know that since he’d been gone Liz had adopted it as her own. It was the best seat in the kitchen, facing the window onto the garden but with its back to the radiator. Liz let Ian have it. It would be hers again soon enough. At least until those few ‘real world legal details’ were sorted out. Liz had been hoping for a property price crash that would allow her to buy Ian out of his half of the house when their settlement was through. Newbay prices had been spiralling ever upwards as people moved out of the unsustainably expensive big cities and gentrified the smaller ones instead.
It was odd to see Ian at his end of the table again. How many times had they sat opposite one another like this during their fifteen-year marriage?
‘I think this is the first time you’ve cooked for me,’ said Ian.
‘No it isn’t,’ Liz said.
‘I mean from scratch. Using proper ingredients. Not by getting things out of tins and packets.’
‘Then I suppose you’re right.’
‘Apart from the baked avocado you did when we were first going out?’ Ian chuckled. ‘Who bakes an avocado?’
‘I saw it on television.’
‘Was it on a sitcom?’ Ian asked. Liz gave him a look to remind him that he didn’t get to tease her any more.
Ian switched his attention to the beef. ‘This tastes great. I’m amazed you stuck it out with that course. I thought you hated being in the kitchen.’
‘I guess you don’t know everything about me any more,’ Liz said.
‘I guess I don’t,’ said Ian. He looked a little sad at that, she thought.
‘Thank you for calling off the attack dog,’ said Liz.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean thank you for persuading Brittney not to press charges.’
‘I didn’t. She spoke to a lawyer at the station. Someone called Isabella, I think, who told her she didn’t really have a case. She said that in order to prove someone has libelled you, you have to convince the jury that the defendant has actually said something untrue.’
Liz’s mouth twitched into a smile though she was a little alarmed at the risk Bella seemed to have taken for her.
‘Oh, well, it’s good news for me,’ she said.
‘Yes. The last thing I wanted was for you to be dragged through the court. They’d have gone over everything, wouldn’t they? The affair and all that.’
‘I suppose they would.’
There was a lull in the conversation as Ian tucked into the beef Wellington again.
‘This is really good. Eating red meat again after all those months on bean sprouts, I mean. I feel like it’s already making a difference. God, I hate bean sprouts.’
‘I didn’t think you were supposed to like them. I thought they were supposed to make you feel virtuous.’
‘I don’t feel very virtuous,’ said Ian. ‘Not at all.’
He paused with a piece of beef halfway to his mouth. He put it down.
‘Liz.’
Ian made an awkward grab for her hands across the table. Liz was still holding her knife and fork. He waited while she put them down then took her hands properly at last. ‘Liz …’
‘What is it?’ she asked.
Were there tears in his eyes?
‘Liz, I’ve made a terrible mistake.’
She remained silent, to give him a chance to apologise just as she had always dreamed he would.
‘I didn’t want to leave you.’
‘But you had an affair.’
‘It wasn’t meant to be a big thing.’
‘Just a coop de food?’
‘I don’t know why I said that,’ Ian told her. ‘I suppose … well, I suppose I didn’t feel like I was getting much attention at home.’
‘What with me going out to work all week to earn half the money to pay for the house and supporting our daughter …’
‘I get that now. I’m sorry. But please let me finish. I was a fool. I allowed myself to be flattered by Brittney’s attentions. I didn’t think it would get serious. She was so young and … well, vacuous. I fancied her of course and I was amazed she fancied me. I thought she would end up getting tired of me before any real damage could be done.’
‘Then why didn’t you call it off when it was obvious she was getting serious?’
‘Liz, she told me she was pregnant.’
Liz took a deep breath. Her head swam as though she was drunk again. ‘Pregnant?’
‘She told me she was going to tell you. I knew that would be the end of everything so I let her persuade me that I had to tell you myself and then I had to do the right thing by her.’
‘But she wasn’t pregnant? Unless there’s a secret baby you’re going to tell me about now.’
‘No. She missed three periods because she wasn’t getting enough iron and the bloating was just due to all the beans.’
‘You’re telling me our marriage was effectively ended by legumes?’
‘I really believed she was pregnant, Liz.’
‘But you’ve stayed with her since you found out she wasn’t.’
‘How could I leave after that? Finding out she wasn’t having a baby very nearly unhinged her. She went into a depression. She’s been fragile ever since. You can’t tell from her blog but she’s been really down. I couldn’t walk out on her with everything she was going through.’
‘I suppose not.’
‘But I want to leav
e her now, Liz. The events of the past few weeks have made me realise that I can’t spend the rest of my life with her.’
‘And?’
‘I think I want to spend it with you.’
It was everything Liz had wanted to hear for so long. But though the words were right, there was something a little off about the whole situation. She chewed her lip.
‘You want to come back home?’ she asked for clarification.
‘I do,’ Ian nodded enthusiastically.
‘To this house?’
‘It is still our house,’ Ian reminded her. ‘But I don’t have to move straight back into the master bedroom, Liz. I understand if you don’t want that. I’m willing to do my probation as it were. I can move into the spare room.’
‘That’s got my home gym in it,’ said Liz. Though she never actually used it.
‘You can put that in the dining room. I’ll move into the spare bedroom. I won’t be here every night anyway.’
‘You won’t?’
‘I meant to tell you. I’ve been allocated a bigger sales area in the latest shake-up. I’m covering the whole of the south-west from Bristol right down to Lands End now. There will be times when it’s silly for me to try to get home every night. And when I am here, that doesn’t mean that you have to stay home and cater for me.’
‘OK,’ said Liz.
‘I understand that we’ve both changed over the past year. You’ve probably got used to having your freedom.’
‘I think I have,’ said Liz.
‘Then I won’t encroach on that. All I ask is for a chance to be back in the heart of my family. Just think of those Sunday mornings we used to have. Bacon butties for you, me, Saskia and Ted. Those were my favourite times.’
Liz remembered them rather less fondly. Sunday mornings were the one time of the week when Ian ‘cooked’ (unless they were having a barbecue). In order to make his ‘world famous’ bacon butties, Ian would use at least three pans and get spatters of bacon fat over everything. Naturally, having ‘cooked’ Ian considered himself excused from washing up. He also seemed to have forgotten that Saskia was now a vegetarian. Even a vegan when someone important was watching.
The Worst Case Scenario Cookery Club Page 22