She swallowed the thought that Mrs Mortimer hadn’t looked miserable – quite the opposite.
‘Did he recognise you?’ Bella’s question drew her thoughts.
‘Yes, of course he did – it’s only two and a half years since he last saw me!’
‘What did he say? “Can I have my room key and, by the way, sorry about all those sausage rolls that must have gone to waste when I did a runner and left you standing like a tit in the vestry!”’ Bella’s anger was still very close to the surface.
‘We weren’t having sausage rolls, it was a three-course, sit-down meal with little chocolates served with the coffee with our initials piped on them . . .’ She pictured the very things; they had looked . . . exquisite.
‘Listen to yourself, woman! He ditched you at the altar, and don’t you dare think one nice thing about him! Your face that day, Merrin. You looked . . . you looked broken.’
I was broken.
‘And I shall never forget it. And if it wasn’t for the whole bloody fiasco, you might have stayed closer to home and right now be sitting opposite me instead of hiding in a cupboard with the lights off.’
Merrin gripped the phone and closed her eyes; her friend’s accurate assessment was like a punch to the throat.
‘I don’t like him being here, Bells. It’s made me think about it all over again. And you don’t have to remind me of how terrible it was – I don’t want any part of him.’ She whispered the truth. ‘I know it sounds stupid, but seeing him, it’s . . . it’s scared me.’ There was a crack in her voice, as if further evidence were needed.
‘You don’t need to be scared, Merry. You are safe and happy; this is just like peering off the edge of a cliff – a bit unnerving, but it doesn’t mean you’re going to fall. You are safe, you’re on solid ground.’
Merrin nodded. ‘It’s taken me a long time to . . . to feel less shaky . . .’ she admitted.
‘I know, I know, babby. And you have given that man more thought and more minutes of your time than I think is right; he was a blip and you need to make the decision not to give him a minute more. He doesn’t deserve you, he never did.’
‘Thanks, Bells.’
‘S’okay, mate. I miss you.’
Merrin cursed the pull of tears that would smudge her make-up when she needed to get back to work. ‘I miss you too.’
‘You have a lovely life, Merry – you live in a castle! You get to have sex with the gorgeous Miguel! While I sit here with my scruffy son, who usually needs his bum changing, hanging around my feet.’
‘Would you swap your scruffy son with a dirty bum for a life in a castle?’
‘Merrin, you know I would, in a heartbeat; wouldn’t even stop to pack,’ Bella joked. ‘I mean, literally the first this baby boy and my mother would know I was missing was when they ran out of milk and needed the TV turning on, as I’m the only one who can work the remote. Anyway, I gotta go. Love you, and please, please, leave the cupboard!’
‘I will, love you too.’
It was amazing how much better she felt after just one chat with her friend. Sitting up, she tucked her hair behind her ears and took a deep breath, trying to steady her pulse. Bella was right, she had to go outside, plus the Mortimers would no doubt be ensconced in their adjoining rooms and the chances of her running into Digby were slim. Her limbs trembled and she did her best to get the shakes under control. She felt torn, desperately keen to avoid him and yet also knowing this might be her only chance to tell him just how much he had destroyed for her.
After a few more seconds of sitting on the laundry bag with her feet on the cold floor, she slipped her pumps back on and stood up, straightening the waistband on her trousers and retying her cravat. She tucked her hair behind her ears again, wiped her top lip, opened the door with a flourish, and with her head down, walked into the corridor and slap bang into Digby.
‘Oh! Oh, shit!’
She never swore at work and looked over her shoulder, partly to check that her boss wasn’t around or that Mrs Lovely Mortimer wasn’t bringing up the rear with her gorgeous boys, before practically jumping out of Digby’s path and standing as flat as she could against the cupboard door, trying to put as much distance between them as possible. Her stomach lurched and she feared she might be sick, as was her MO. She felt a fine film of sweat break out over her skin and her thoughts were scrambled.
‘Merrin!’ He placed his hand on his chest.
‘Well, that’s going to be awkward, I’m Merrin too.’ She hadn’t meant to let the nostalgia float from her lips, didn’t want him to feel a moment of warmth or joy or comfort in her presence. But there they were.
They stared at each other for what felt like an age. His face and all the promises he had made still with the power to lure her. It was confusing because she hated him. His smile lifted one corner of his mouth, but his eyes looked downcast, sad even. And in truth she was glad to see some semblance of regret; it was all she had ever really wanted, to know that he was sorry, that there had been more reason behind his actions than the promise of a credit card.
‘I . . . I had no idea, I am so sorry . . . Mother suggested it and booked it and . . .’ He sounded sincere, his expression one of excruciating self-consciousness.
I bet she bloody did. Merrin remembered Mrs Everit giving the woman enough of the details about her place of work when she had bumped into her in the village shop.
She nodded, believing him. Not that it made this encounter any less devastating. For either of them, it would seem.
‘How . . . how have you been?’ he asked softly.