New Beginnings At Glendale Hall

by Victoria Walters

  Chapter Two

  I cursed myself for not cancelling, but I was running out of excuses, or outright lies, to avoid social occasions. So, I stood on Hazel’s doorstep and took a deep breath before ringing the bell. I’d met Hazel through her husband Johnny, one of Greg’s workmates, and when we’d first got together the four of us had double-dated a lot. Hazel and Johnny had been a lot of fun, the kind of couple always pressing you to stay for one more drink, always ready with a funny anecdote or an idea for something to do, like the time we had champagne at the top of The Shard, or the time we’d run off to Paris for the weekend on a whim.

  That had all changed though when they got married and very quickly had a baby.

  ‘Em!’ Hazel opened the door with a wide smile, her toddler balanced on her hip. ‘We were worried you wouldn’t make it,’ she said, still smiling but with an edge to her words. I was almost an hour late.

  ‘I’m sorry, we had to make cakes for this work do so I had to stay on to help Molly finish them,’ I said, walking in when she gestured for me to do so. It wasn’t a lie exactly, we had finished on time but I had cleaned up much more carefully than needed and walked to Hazel’s slowly, aware that the later I arrived, the earlier it would finish. Was I a terrible person? I felt like a terrible person. I had never been like this before but it had just become harder and harder to be around my happy friends and their perfect families.

  ‘Happy birthday, Amy,’ I said to the little girl wrapped around Hazel. ‘Here you go.’ I handed Hazel a gift bag, one of the presents on the extensive approved gift list she had emailed everyone last month.

  ‘Oh, thank you! I’ll just pop it on the present table. Go on through,’ Hazel said, pointing to the living room as she disappeared with Amy. I walked on through and looked at the room full of people, balloons, and pink bunting. It was a mixture of faces I knew and unfamiliar ones – Hazel’s friends from nursery, all of them either bouncing a baby on their knee, or calling out to older children taking too many sweets from the food table. I stared at them and felt the all-too-familiar ache in the pit of my stomach.

  ‘Emily, come and sit down here!’ Rachel waved me over to the sofa where she was holding her baby, just a month old. ‘How mad is it in here, huh?’

  Rachel had been my closest friend of our group. Again, we’d met through our partners, but we would often spend time just the two of us, having a glass of wine and putting the world to rights, until she got pregnant. She had drifted closer to Hazel and the other mothers she knew, and now I couldn’t remember the last time the two of us had been out alone. I knew things had to change but I had been surprised by how much they had changed.

  ‘How was work today?’ she asked. She had given up her corporate job after she and Paul had got married, which surprised me at the time as she had seemed ambitious, but she had wanted to focus on having a family. And she certainly seemed to have embraced motherhood. She was positively glowing.

  ‘Really busy. I don’t know where Molly gets her energy from, I’m knackered,’ I said, looking out of the corner of my eye to see if there was any alcohol anywhere but I couldn't see any, worse luck.

  ‘I couldn’t imagine spending all day on my feet,’ Rachel said, shaking her head. ‘But you’re off to Scotland soon, aren’t you?’

  ‘That’s right. My friend’s wedding is just a couple of weeks away now,’ I replied. ‘I can’t wait to see Glendale again.’ I couldn’t believe it had been three years since I’d seen my hometown. My parents and I had gone back a few times since we’d moved to London when I was fourteen but after I’d met Greg, I hadn’t joined their trips. At Christmas my Aunt Sally, still working as the housekeeper at Beth’s home Glendale Hall, would come down to London to see us. I had really missed it but now the excitement about the trip had been dulled a little by Greg cancelling on me.

  ‘Your accent comes back when you say “Glendale”,’ she noted with a smile. ‘I’m so jealous. I doubt I’ll have a holiday for ages with this one around,’ she said but I could tell she didn’t really mean it. The love for her baby overrode everything, and rightly so. ‘And I bet Greg can’t wait for a romantic trip away either.’

  ‘He couldn’t but now he’s been told he has to work,’ I said with a grimace.

  Rachel frowned. ‘Really? I’m surprised because Paul asked for a couple of days off so we can visit his parents last minute and was given it by the chief,’ she said.

  I stared at her. If Paul had been given time off at the last minute how come Greg couldn’t have his long-booked trip then? ‘That’s strange,’ I said, trying to hide how annoyed I was. My heart had plummeted inside my chest. Had Greg just made that up? To get out of coming away with me?

  ‘Maybe I’ve got it wrong though,’ Rachel said, quickly. ‘Paul said I’ve got such a baby brain at the moment. You know what it’s like.’ Her face fell as I looked at her, her cheeks turning pink when she realised what she’d said. ‘Oh, Em, I’m so sorry, I…’ Thankfully, her flustered apology was cut off by the sudden chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’ as Hazel’s husband carried in a cake lit with a number two candle. I looked away from Rachel and her expression of pity, and watched as Hazel and Johnny sung to their little girl and helped her blow out the candles, tears welling up in my eyes.

  * * *

  I left Hazel’s as soon as I politely could and walked home in a daze, thinking about how far apart Greg and I seemed now. Far apart enough that he appeared to have made up an excuse to get out of going away with me. There was a time when we would have done anything to go away together.

  Back at home, I went into the kitchen and started to go through the motions of making us dinner. I didn’t want to get into an argument about Scotland but I just didn’t understand why he wouldn’t want to come. He seemed to be signing up for more and more shifts at work, especially night ones, so times together were few and far between, and I thought that, like me, he was eager for us to get away. I had to find out what was going on.

  Pouring a large glass of red wine, I prepared his favourite meal – spaghetti bolognaise – hoping we could at least have some quality time together tonight, and then maybe I could get him to re-think this trip. I really thought we needed it. Hopefully he would too. I put a salad on the table and lit two candles, before turning on some soft music, hoping to set a romantic mood.

  ‘In here!’ I called, as I heard the front door open then close. ‘I’m cooking!’

  It was a moment before Greg appeared. ‘I’m just going to have a quick shower and change,’ he said. He seemed to realise then what I had said. ‘Oh, I’m going out, didn’t I say? Mike’s got lady troubles once again.’

  I turned from the cooker. ‘No, you didn’t. I made your favourite.’ I gestured lamely to the simmering pan behind me, willing him with my eyes to cancel his plans, willing him to want to cancel them. For me.

  He sighed heavily. ‘Okay, I’ll eat quickly and then go out. Right – back in a min.’ He paused then threw on one of his charming grins. ‘You’re the best,’ he said, before ducking back out of the room.

  I picked up my wine and took a long gulp. I hated to think that this distance between us was my fault. Everything had been so good at the start but once we started trying for a baby… that’s when things had changed. It had been fun before that. We were head over heels in love, full of plans for the future; our main one being that we wanted to have a big family. We were both only children so we wanted a big brood of our own. Greg might not have been on board with marriage but babies were a different matter and that proved his commitment to me as far as I was concerned. I soon came off the pill but nothing happened. Maybe we should have kept it just the two of us for longer, but we were excited, we couldn’t wait for our future to begin.

  Only then it didn’t. And it still hadn’t.

  I wanted us to go and see a doctor but Greg kept saying it was too soon for all that. He hated doctors so the thought of tests made him nervous, I knew, but it seemed crazy that after over two years of try
ing we hadn’t got pregnant once. We were now stuck in this limbo of saying it was bound to happen soon on one hand, and on the other, rolling over in bed, a huge gap between us, not even wanting to try any more. We hadn’t had sex in six weeks. And that time had only been because we’d both drunk a lot of wine one evening.

  I kept thinking there must have been something wrong with me and I knew that I could get checked out without Greg – rule out any problems on my side, at least – but I was scared. Scared it was my fault. Scared that he’d run off and leave me if I couldn’t have children.

  And that made me annoyed at myself for being so pathetic.

  So, we kept on as we were. With me resenting our friends more and more for their perfect families, events like today piercing another hole in my heart, and resenting Greg for not wanting to help me fix our problems. And Greg burying his head in the sand about it – working more and more but pretending that we were fine. As a result, we had grown further and further apart, neither willing to address the giant baby-pink elephant in the room.

  ‘Smells good, babe,’ he said then, coming back in, his hair still wet, aftershave floating into the room. He had put on tight black jeans and a dark shirt. He grabbed his glass of wine and sat down at the table.

  ‘You’re dressed up,’ I said, before I could stop myself. I drained the pasta, the steam turning my cheeks even pinker. I knew my tone was whiny but I didn’t understand why he was making such an effort for Mike, and not for me.

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ he replied, dismissively. ‘I’d rather be curled up with you watching Netflix, you know that,’ he said then, in a softer tone. I dished up and carried over two steaming plates of spag bol. ‘This looks amazing. You’re such a brilliant cook. This is the best part of not having to work nights.’ He tucked in instantly, and I had to smile at the way he devoured my food. That hadn’t changed, at least.

  ‘What’s up with Mike this time then?’ I asked, trying to take an interest in his workmate. Mike was always having women trouble, mainly because he couldn’t seem to grasp the fact that he should just see one woman at a time.

  ‘God knows, but at least he’s buying the drinks,’ Greg replied.

  There was a short silence. I really didn’t want to start a fight but I had to say something. ‘So, I went to the birthday party at Hazel’s today,’ I said as Greg ate his food as quickly as he could. ‘Rachel was there. She said that Paul had been given some time off at the last minute so they could go away,’ I continued, watching Greg’s reaction. ‘Which made me think it was strange that they hadn’t allowed your holiday.’

  Greg took a long gulp of his red wine before finally meeting my eyes. ‘Babe…’ he began. I winced inwardly. He had always called me that but sometimes it felt patronising, like it was a way to appease me. ‘I need these extra shifts – we need these shifts. I forgot I’d volunteered for them when we were supposed to be away but now I’ve said yes, I can’t let them down. You understand that, don’t you? And I’ll bet you’ll have lots more fun with your friends up there without me.’

  ‘I just wish you’d been honest with me,’ I said, not really sure why we needed him to do so many more shifts. I was about to ask when he checked the time and groaned.

  He stood up and came around the table to kiss me on the cheek. ‘I’m sorry, but I’m late now. Leave the clearing up for me, okay? And don’t wait up; you know what Mike’s like once he starts talking.’

  ‘Try not to be too late,’ I said but he was already walking out of the room. I sighed, knowing full well Greg would stumble in off his face some time in the early hours and end up passing out on the sofa as he always did after their nights out. I didn’t mind exactly, of course he needed to go out with his friends sometimes, but it annoyed me that he hadn’t thought to check with me first. And that he still had a single friend to go out and get drunk with while I waited at home for him. I didn’t want him to see me as a nagging girlfriend, which it felt like he did a lot of the time, but was I really overreacting or was Greg being unfair?

  I leaned back in my chair, putting my cutlery down, not sure I could face finishing the meal by myself, although I had become more and more used to eating alone. I really needed to make some decisions about Beth’s wedding cake so I started looking at my phone, googling wedding cakes but it was hard to put my heart into it. In the end, I abandoned the images of layers and iced flowers and cleared up the dinner. Despite what he had promised, I knew better than to trust that Greg would be in a fit state to do any of it later.

  Retreating into our cosy living room, I drew the curtains and lit the lamps, curling up on the sofa. I found myself on Facebook, clicking through our photos. It was difficult not to keep thinking about our relationship when my head was filled with Beth’s impending happy ever after. I zoomed in on my favourite picture of the two of us, the one I had enlarged, framed and hung on the wall in our hallway – a black and white shot of us kissing. Greg had dipped me back on the dance floor at his friend’s wedding and the photographer had caught our passion in that moment. I was wearing a cocktail dress, Greg a tux, and we looked like a golden Hollywood couple.

  I couldn’t help but wonder where all that passion had gone. Had real life extinguished it like a breeze blowing out a flame, or had we been too caught up in our whirlwind romance to realise that we wouldn’t be able to keep hold of it long term? I was sure it was inevitable that a relationship had to shift from the heady days of first love into something more comfortable, more stable, something that lasted but I wasn’t sure that was what had happened to us. We didn’t feel comfortable or secure. If anything, I was more insecure than when we were first dating. It felt as if things were changing, shifting, like the wind blowing in a new direction, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

  Chapter Three

  The sound of the front door slamming woke me with a jump.

  I sat up in the dark, my heart racing, glancing at the illuminated clock beside me. It was three in the morning, and my boyfriend was crashing about downstairs as if there were five of him. I groaned into the silence, sleep having been snatched away from me. I climbed out of bed and went downstairs to find him with his head stuck in the fridge, searching for food.

  ‘Greg, it’s three a.m.!’ I cried, leaning against the doorway and folding my arms across my chest. I hated it when he made me feel like I was his mother telling him off.

  Greg leaned back out of the fridge. ‘Sorry, babe,’ he said with a grin. ‘We got a bit carried away,’ he added, slurring his words a little.

  ‘Yeah, I can see that. Don’t you think you should come to bed?’

  ‘In a minute. Got to line my stomach,’ he said, leaning back into the fridge.

  I sighed, and turned away. I hated dealing with drunk Greg.

  ‘Pass me my phone, would you?’ He called out after me, finally shutting the fridge and carrying his food over to the table.

  I saw his phone lying on the table by the door. It usually never left his hands. Obviously, it was only because he was drunk that he was even trusting me to touch it. I felt like throwing it at him. As I grabbed it, it lit up in my hands with a message.

  Tonight was amazing. I wish you hadn’t had to leave. My bed feels really lonely without you xxx

  The room spun. I dropped the phone with a thud onto the carpet. It felt as if someone had poured cold water over me. Despite the warm night, goosebumps trailed down my arms as the words from the message swam in front of my eyes.

  ‘What’s taking so long?’ Greg called out then, his mouth clearly full of food.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I picked up the phone and walked slowly back into the kitchen. I held it up. ‘It’s here. Complete with a message from the woman you’re clearly shagging,’ I said, spitting out the words. I could barely get them out, I was so furious.

  Greg dropped the fork he was holding on the plate he had piled up with cake. Cake I had baked. The blood drained from his face. ‘What are you talking about?’ he asked, throwing on his c
harming smile as if he thought he could somehow talk his way out of it.

  I threw the phone at him. He ducked and it fell against the wall.

  ‘Em!’ He cried, jumping up, rushing to it. ‘You’ve cracked the screen,’ he wailed at me.

  ‘That is seriously what you want to say to me right now?’ I asked him.

  Cradling the phone, he stepped closer. ‘Look, I’m sorry you read that. But, babe, it doesn’t mean anything, okay? It was just a one-night thing. I didn’t mean to… she means nothing to me. It was just sex, I swear.’

  ‘And what? That makes it okay?’ I gaped at him.

  ‘You’re the one I love,’ he pleaded. ‘It was a mistake. A big, drunken mistake. Look at the state of me! I would never have done that sober,’ he said, reaching for me.

  I shook his hand from my arm. ‘So because you’re drunk, I should just be okay with the fact that you’ve just cheated on me? Jesus, Greg!’ I threw my hands up in despair. I knew things weren’t great between us but I had honestly never expected that he’d cheat on me.

  ‘I’m sorry, Emily, so sorry,’ he said, looking down at the floor, his face full of shame.

  ‘Have you done this before?’ I asked him quietly, my pulse racing.

  He looked up. ‘No! Of course not. I swear it.’

  I sucked in a breath. ‘Who was she?’ I asked, even though I wasn’t sure I really wanted to hear the answer.

  ‘Just someone we met in the club tonight,’ he said, not meeting my eyes. He sank down into the chair, dropping the phone on the table. ‘She means nothing to me. Nothing, I swear it.’

  Staring at him, I wondered why he kept saying that. If she was just a random girl in the club then why would she mean anything to him? I swiped the phone up into my hands before he could stop me.