‘Merrin.’ She answered the woman’s question.
Her voice so quiet, no more than a squeak, as the woman leant forward, craning her neck.
‘Sorry, what? Did you say Mary?’
She shook her head and swallowed. ‘It’s Merrin,’ she managed, and coughed.
‘Merrin! I’ve not heard that name before, it’s lovely!’
The woman’s words were confirmation that Digby had never mentioned her to his wife, and knowing that the whole episode that had so shaped her life and had such an impact on her self-esteem was not even worthy of discussion was devastating.
‘Have you heard of it, Digs?’
Digs . . .
‘Is it common in Cornwall?’ She turned to look at her husband, who stood by the door, transfixed and awfully pale.
Merrin took the opportunity to stare at him. He looked horror-struck and clammy, suggesting he was just as surprised as her. His hair had thinned a little and his eyes were smaller than she remembered. The navy linen shirt that hung outside of his jeans was the same item that he used to wear, and as much as she tried to douse it, a familiar flame of longing rose in her gut for him, the cowardly, cowardly pig.
Eventually he gathered himself and it was a shock to hear his voice, as clear and as lovely as it lived in her memory. ‘I-it’s n-not that common, but I have . . . I have . . . I did hear it before. Once. It reminded me of the sea.’ His voice carried the rasp of emotion and he swallowed. Like her, he seemed unable to look away and, judging by his searching expression, she was convinced she was the last person he had expected to see.
‘Are you okay, darling?’ The nice lady walked over and placed her manicured hand on his crumpled sleeve.
He nodded and tried out a smile, before pulling out his handkerchief and wiping his sweaty forehead. ‘Actually, I feel a bit . . . a bit sick.’
‘Oh, you poor love!’ His wife ran her hand over his chest. ‘Wonder what’s brought that on?’
A bit sick? Merrin thought. I know that feeling. Like your stomach has dropped down into your boots and your brain is fogged with shock and people are looking at you as if trying to figure out what to say or what to do, but you can’t tell them because you don’t have the words . . . because your world is spinning and you are wearing a wide and fancy wedding dress that feels like it weighs tons and the bodice is so tight you can’t breathe . . . Yes, it can indeed make you feel a bit sick . . .
‘Sorry, Merrin, I got stuck with a delivery, would you like me to take over here?’ Vanya offered sweetly and Merrin nodded.
‘Thank you, erm . . . thank you, Vanya, can you check in Mr and Mrs—’ She tried to say the word but it stuck in her throat.
‘Mortimer,’ Mrs Mortimer offered helpfully. ‘It’s Mr and Mrs Mortimer.’
‘Yes.’ She forced a smile. ‘Vanya will get you checked in.’
Merrin slid from behind the reception desk and, without looking at Digby again, walked briskly along the corridor, seeking solace in the wide laundry cupboard. Deciding against turning on the light, she closed the heavy door behind her and slipped off her shoes, before sitting on a large white bag full of tablecloths and placing her bare feet on the cold tiled floor.
‘Oh, my God!’ Leaning forward, she buried her face in her hands and tried to slow her pulse. ‘Oh, my God, he’s here! He’s right here! He’s here!’ she whispered into the darkness. ‘What am I going to do?’
Her phone rang in the dark and she jumped. ‘Jesus! You scared me!’ she cried out.
‘That was my intention,’ Bella responded. ‘To scare you from afar and not to see how you are doing?’
‘Oh, Bells!’ Merrin sighed and again flopped forward. ‘Oh, my God, I can’t believe it!’
‘What’s the matter? And where are you? It sounds like you’re in a loo?’
‘No, not a loo. I’ve shut myself in a cupboard in the dark.’
‘Ok-aay. And can I ask why? Are the police after you? Do you need the police? Give me the code word and I’ll leap into action.’
‘Do we have a code word?’ She tried to remember.
‘No, but we definitely should for situations like this. I’ll give it some thought. Anyhoo, more to the point, why are you in a cupboard in the dark?’
‘You’re not going to believe it.’ Her breath came in short bursts.
‘Try me.’
‘He’s here . . . he . . . he just walked in.’ She hated the tremor to her voice. ‘I was on reception and his wife came in, really pretty, wearing decent clothes and holding one of those bags that Victoria Beckham has, and her hair was all, you know, neat and shiny. I was looking at her and thinking how good she looked and how nice she seemed and he just . . . he just walked in behind her.’ She let out a deep breath.
‘Merry, I need you to go back a few paces. Who walked in? I don’t know what’s going on.’
‘You don’t know what’s going on? I don’t know what’s going on!’ She raised her voice. ‘Digby! Digby is here!’
She heard Bella gasp. ‘Digby Mortimer?’
‘Yes! How many bloody Digbys do we know?’
‘Oh, my God!’ Bella screamed.
‘Exactly. I don’t know what to do! I can’t hide in here until they leave!’
‘How long are they staying?’
‘Two days.’
‘No, you definitely can’t. Although I could send snacks and a Portaloo.’
‘It’s not funny, Bella!’ Merrin felt like crying, her distress gathered in her throat like a physical blockage. ‘I haven’t seen him since . . . since . . . and I thought I was going to faint or throw up. It’s like it happened yesterday – just the sight of him’s enough to take me right back to that moment when Reverend Pimm came and got me and everything unravelled . . .’
‘Right, Merrin’ – Bella spoke with force – ‘you listen to me. That was a lifetime ago. You are a grown-ass woman with a lovely life; a lovely future ahead of you and a lovely Miguel. And Digby is a shit. He was a shit then and he will be a shit now. He did you a favour. You might have been saddled for life with him and that would have been so miserable.’