And you don’t realise how much this is hurting me, I think.
She kisses me on the cheek.
‘I hope it’s enough,’ I say. But she doesn’t answer me. Her face is drawn and she looks like she’s lost weight and she didn’t really have any to spare.
Then she glances at her watch. ‘I’d better go.’
‘You’ll be fine,’ I try to reassure her.
‘I wish I could be so sure.’ All of my sister’s sparkle has evaporated overnight. I could kill Richard for putting her through this – whatever it is. All I can do is pray that they sort it out soon. ‘I’m here for you, Chelsea,’ I promise. ‘And Lauren is too. We should all get together next week.’
My sister smiles gratefully. ‘We will,’ she says. ‘Definitely.’
We hug each other tightly.
Then, as I watch her go back to her car – still the top-of-the-range wotsit – Blake Chadwick comes out of the office.
‘Hi,’ he says. Then he frowns. ‘Everything okay?’
I’d never make a poker player. Concern must be written all over my face. ‘Not really,’ I answer honestly. ‘That was my elder sister.’ I nod towards Chelsea’s disappearing flash mobile. ‘She’s got a few problems.’
And they’ve become my problems.
‘You’re a fine-looking family,’ BC tells me with an appreciative whistle through his perfect teeth.
But I’m not in the mood for his flirting today. After spending a night on the sofa everything hurts. Not least of all my heart.
‘Not long to go to Peru,’ he says. ‘How’s the foot coming along?’
‘Okay. I’m going to see the consultant after work.’ Then I decide that he might as well be the first to know. ‘But I won’t be going to Peru, whether it’s better or not.’
That stops him in his tracks. BC does comedy blinking. ‘You’re not going?’
‘Chelsea just walked off with all the money I’ve raised so far,’ I continue. ‘Her need is greater than mine.’
‘I don’t believe it.’
I shrug. ‘Believe it.’
‘It won’t be the same without you, Annie.’
And to think that a few weeks ago, I fell for all this charm.
‘You have to go.’
‘I don’t have enough time left to raise the money again.’
Blake is now pacing the floor. ‘It’s unthinkable that you’ll miss it.’
I would have said that too yesterday. Now I’m resigned to my fate.
‘There must be some way . . .’
‘I currently can’t think of any,’ I supply.
‘If I had the cash to spare, I’d pay for you myself.’
‘I wouldn’t accept, anyway.’
‘You cannot let this opportunity pass you by,’ he insists. ‘It would be a tragedy.’
But would it? One bored, frustrated housewife doesn’t get her adventure. Does anyone care? Do I care? Do I really care any more?
I hold up my hands. ‘That’s the end of it. I’m not going.’
And the sooner I get used to that fact, the better.
Chapter 104
Greg takes me to the hospital and we wait and wait and wait. We don’t speak while we’re doing it.
An hour and a half after my allotted appointment time, I get an X-ray and then, after more waiting, I hobble in to see the consultant, Mr Brown. Greg follows me.
When I’m up on the couch, the consultant hums and hahs over my foot. The X-ray goes up on the wall.
Then Mr Brown takes off his glasses. ‘Well,’ he says, ‘your foot has healed marvellously, Mrs Ashton. You have the bones of a woman half your age.’
That’s a good thing, I know – but somehow I can’t get excited about it. If he’d said I had the face of a woman half my age then I’d have been whooping.
‘Have you been having physio sessions?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then you can start to walk on it from today,’ he continues, but I’m not really listening. Who cares how long it takes to heal now?
‘Take it gently at first, then gradually build it up. You’ll be as right as rain before you know it.’
Mr Brown helps me off the couch and, for the first time in weeks, I can put my weight on my foot. It feels a bit weak but, other than that, not too bad at all.
‘Keep one crutch,’ the consultant suggests. ‘It will help with the balance.’
‘Thank you.’ It looks as if I might have been fit enough to go to Peru, after all. A bitter taste rises to my mouth. But I’m not going. So who cares?
Outside in the corridor, Greg takes my arm. ‘Need a hand?’
‘I’m fine.’ I limp towards the car park.
‘It’s good news.’
‘Marvellous.’
‘I thought you would be pleased,’ my husband says, perplexed.
‘I am,’ I snap. ‘Overjoyed. I might just do a happy dance in a minute.’
Now he looks alarmed. ‘The consultant said to take it easy.’
‘That’s why I’m managing to restrain myself.’
Greg turns me to face him. ‘Is this because you can’t go to Peru?’
‘How very perceptive of you.’
‘There’s no need to be like that.’ He sighs at me. ‘I didn’t want you to go because I was worried about you. Because I didn’t want you to go on your own.’
Because you don’t understand my needs. Because you’re happy with your life and I’m not.
‘I don’t want a conversation about this,’ I tell my husband. ‘Not now.’ My disappointment is too raw, too painful, too all-encompassing.
‘We could do something else instead.’
I hope that Greg has thought about this very carefully, because if he suggests going to Cromer for the weekend as a substitute, I may just have to batter him to death with my one remaining crutch.
Chapter 105
‘It didn’t quite work out the way I planned,’ Lauren says, ‘but, bizarrely, I’m so glad it didn’t. I never thought I’d hear myself say that.’
My twin sister is sitting at my kitchen table nursing a cup of tea. She’s decided to knock the drinking on the head for the time being – maybe for good – which I think is no bad thing. I, on the other hand, am having a big glass of red wine. Or two. Or possibly even three. Let’s see what two does and I’ll take it from there.
‘It sounds like you’re making a fresh start, Lauren. And that makes me very happy.’ I hug my sis warmly. I’m so glad she’s got rid of that love-rat, Jude Taylor, at long last.
‘Zak’s so lovely,’ she adds. ‘I don’t know why I didn’t see it before.’
‘Sometimes we take the people closest to us for granted.’ I feel myself flush as I think guiltily of my own husband.
‘We’re planning on moving to the Cotswolds,’ Lauren says excitedly. ‘Imagine! Me, the country lady.’
‘It’s not too far from here. We can still see as much of each other.’
‘Don’t sound so desperate,’ my sister says. ‘Of course we can. I’ve ditched Jude. I’ve got a great new bloke and am going to start a new business, a new life. Christ, I might even go the whole hog and have a baby! Be happy for me.’
At that I burst into tears.
‘What?’ Lauren wants to know. ‘What have I said now?’
‘I’m not going to Peru,’ I sob. ‘I’m happy that your dream is just beginning, but mine’s over.’
‘Why? I thought you said your foot was okay?’
‘It is.’ Then I sigh. ‘Promise you won’t say anything.’
My sister promises.
‘Chelsea is in a bit of a mess.’
‘Chelsea? Never!’
‘Something to do with Rich’s work. Fraud or something.’
Lauren’s eyes go like saucers.
‘All of their bank accounts are frozen. The cheque she gave me for my fundraising bounced.’
‘No way!’
‘Worse than that, I had to give her the money I’d raised for
my trip to Peru to help her out.’
‘You did what?’
‘I gave her the money.’
‘Are you crazy?’
‘She needed it.’
‘Like a hole in the head,’ Lauren says. ‘Why didn’t she sell some of her bloody diamonds? That eternity ring he bought her for her fortieth would keep them in food for a year. Or what about her big, flash motor? Why take your savings off you? What a cow.’
‘Don’t say that,’ I chide. ‘All the good stuff’s gone,’ I tell my sister. ‘The jewellery’s fake. The car isn’t theirs. She really is in a mess. Let’s face it, Lauren, we’re her last resort. How often does Chelsea come to us for help?’
‘Never.’
‘Exactly.’ More wine. ‘What could I say?’
‘Piss off? Get a job?’
‘Is that really what you would have said?’
‘Yes.’
I think not. Lauren may like to kid herself that she’s harder than me, but I know that she’s a sucker for a sob story. In my position, I’d like to bet that she would have handed over the money too. ‘This –’ whatever this turns out to be ‘– has hit her very hard.’
Lauren flops back in her chair and puffs out, ‘I’ll bet.’
‘We have to help her, Lauren. Both of us. She needs us. I can go to Peru another time.’
‘Yeah, right,’ Lauren says. ‘It’s no good trying to be philosophical, Annie, when it’s taken you nearly twenty years to pluck up the courage to do this.’
More wine. More crying.
‘So what are you going to do?’
‘Nothing,’ I snivel. ‘Stay here rotting away in this prison of a marriage.’
My sister makes a frantic cutting motion across her throat, but it’s too late.
From behind me, my husband says, ‘Thank you, Annie. That lets me know exactly where I stand.’
‘Greg . . .’ I spin round. My husband is standing there, hands in pockets, looking stony faced. ‘I didn’t mean it. I was just being overly dramatic. I’m just dis appointed that I can’t go to Peru.’
‘So I gather,’ he says, then heads towards the back door. ‘Your gaoler is going fishing. I don’t know when I’ll be back.’
‘Greg!’
‘Let him go,’ my sister advises. ‘Bloody men.’
‘What shall I do now?’
‘Get me a glass,’ Lauren says. ‘I’ve given up my vow of not drinking. You and I, my dear sister, need to be very, very drunk.’
I sigh inside. I’ll drink to that.
Chapter 106
Greg couldn’t face going fishing with Ray today. This was a day when he needed to be alone, to think, to wonder what had gone wrong with his marriage, why he and Annie were so far apart when once they had been so close.
He’d stayed away from the canal, because it was more than likely that Ray would be down there anyway. Instead, he’d parked up, walked for miles with a light bag of tackle and gone to a secluded bank on the River Ouse with a view to spinning for a pike.
Normally, he wouldn’t head out in search of a pike but he wanted a battle, wanted to struggle; he didn’t want the ease of plucking perch one after another out of the still waters of the canal. There were some big fish lurking in this spot – twenty pounds and more – that had grown fat in relative peace, largely untroubled by the rods of anglers.
The day was overcast, the sun sulking behind the grey clouds. And it was cooler than it had been. The perfect day for his mood.
His hands were unsteady as he assembled the sections of his rod, the rod that Annie had given him all those years ago. The rod that had been steadfast and true. Greg threaded the line down through the rings and fed some small sprats he’d brought from the freezer on to the hook. He cast out and even the quiet slap of his line on the water failed to lift his spirits. After a moment he reeled the line in, smoothly, smoothly . . . easy does it. You had to be careful with pike or they could quite easily get the better of you. They were a solitary fish that would feed on any living thing in its path – even their own kind.
Greg always felt tense when he was fishing for this cunning predator. It had a coiled, explosive power that could be unleashed by one thrust from its powerful tail, which gave it a stunning turn of speed. You had to be on your toes to land one of these.
He cast again and began to reel in. Seconds later, the line snagged. He hit it quick and the fish was off with a bang that vibrated through Greg’s chest. It was a big one and the reel screamed in protest as the fish took flight; the line, stretching to breaking point, went with it. He held it tight, played it, teased the fish in, slowly, slowly . . . as it fought against its constraint.
The fish thrashed in the depths of the water but Greg was immovable. He could feel it tiring, tiring, giving up the struggle as it realised that it had been beaten. He brought the fish close to the bank, finally coming face-to-face with his quarry, its mouth open to display its fearsome, needle-sharp teeth.
Greg pulled it over his net and lifted it out to the bank. It was eighteen pounds at least. He wrested the hook from its gaping mouth. The fish gasped, its muscular body heaving. The terror of the river, stranded, fighting now for its every breath. Not so frightening now, Greg thought.
For the first time, he wanted to kill a fish, to smash its skull beneath his hands, cudgel it to death. Greg sank to his knees, tears in his eyes. Was this what it had come to? Was there no other way he could get this emotion out?
He lifted the fish, cradling it to him. This would be a grinning photo opportunity for his friend Ray, but catching, defeating this fish had given Greg no joy.
Greg lowered the fish to the water and let it go, watching numbly as it quickly swam away. He’d overcome the ultimate river predator, but how would he fare against predators of the human kind? If that Blake Chadwick bloke wanted to steal his wife away, would he be able to stop him? Would Greg put up a decent fight? And, this time, would he be victorious again?
Chapter 107
Four weeks have passed. The horrible blue boot is long gone. I’ve even been running again – but not with Blake Chadwick. I’ve changed my route and now run through the Linear Park, which I can do straight from my own front door. My foot ached a bit at first, but now it’s fully healed and fully functioning again. Having improved my fitness, I’d like to keep it up – even though it is utterly pointless now. Maybe my cholesterol levels will thank me for it in years to come.
Relations between Greg and me are still strained. I spent a week on the sofa, but now I’m back in our ‘marital’ bed. I thought the fact that I’m not going away now would have helped to defrost the atmosphere between us, but it hasn’t. If anything, Greg has been worse in the last few weeks and I just can’t summon up the energy to extend the olive branch. We’re still not touching, not communicating, not behaving at all like a couple who’ve been married for twenty-odd years. It saddens me, but I’m not sure how we can find our way back. At the moment, I’m too down, too depressed to be able to formulate a plan to restore our entente cordiale.
I’ve still been making sandwiches and cakes for my colleagues. A little sideline that I’m really enjoying, and which has also brought in almost a thousand pounds. It would have easily made up my fare for the trip to Peru, but I try not to think about that too much.
I also sold Chelsea’s designer clothes at a car-boot sale – a hideous experience that I have no desire to repeat. Rabid hordes descended on me as I unloaded the car, all but grabbing the clothes out of my hands. However, when the scrum died down, I was pleased to see that I’d made two hundred pounds. I gave that to my sister, who is still, it seems, no nearer to sorting out what is happening in her life.
Chelsea had to take her children out of posh education after all as, even with my contribution, she was woefully short of the required money and there were no easy payment terms on offer at Swanley School. Once you haven’t got the cash, you’re out. No ifs, no buts. Henry and Sophia are now, by all accounts, doing very well at their l
ocal primary school. Of my money, there is still no sign.
There’s a mounting air of excitement here in the offices. Everyone is getting ready for the impending trip and there’s a lot of team-bonding going on. I feel desperately, desperately outside of it all. I’m going to be left on my own here for two weeks manning the offices when I still wish with all my heart that I was going too.
My colleagues are leaving on Friday and it’s now Wednesday lunchtime. There’s a final meeting in the boardroom so that they can all discuss their last-minute preparations, and they asked me to supply the sandwiches for it. I glance at my watch. It’s just before one and that’s when the gathering starts, so I need to go through and set them out now.
Picking up my heavy basket, I make my way through to the boardroom. It’s all in darkness in here and I mutter to myself, fumbling for the light switch.
When the light goes on, a cry goes up and I nearly jump out of my skin, then stand there blinking like a rabbit caught in the headlights. All my colleagues are already gathered together and they’re clapping and cheering and I’m sure it’s not just because of the quality of my sandwiches.
‘What?’ I say in a manner that I’m sure sounds much more intelligent than it appears.
Blake Chadwick steps forward, all smiles, and my weak and impressionable heart flutters way too readily. He takes up a place next to me and then grins round at all the staff, who are clearly in on the joke.
I put down my basket of sandwiches and stand waiting for the punchline.
‘We couldn’t leave you behind, Annie,’ Blake states. ‘So, the company has bought your ticket.’ He holds out a ticket to me, but my shaking hands won’t move.
Seeing this, BC takes my fingers and folds them round the ticket.
‘We couldn’t have you missing out. When we get back, we’ll all help you to raise the money for Dream Days.’
Everyone cheers again.
‘I can’t,’ I say, trembling. ‘I can’t.’
‘You can,’ Blake says. ‘There’s nothing to stop you now.’
‘But it’s the day after tomorrow. I don’t have time to get anything ready.’
‘That’s why we’re giving you the afternoon off after the meeting as well so that you can go and get yourself kitted out. Minny’s going to look after reception.’