Postman Pat filled the air with a cheerful jingling tune as I replayed the latest episode for Jamie, who was nicely tucked up in his pyjamas under a blanket, a bowl of jelly on his lap. I had spent the evening cuddling him on the sofa, but as Alex pushed his key in the door, I could already feel the panic rising in my chest.
I met him in the hall, away from little ears. ‘You’re an hour late; I was worried sick,’ I said, despite his text telling me he had been delayed. It was only seven o’clock in the evening. I knew the train journey was horrendously long, but it did not stop me getting anxious as I awaited his return. Last night I had quickly come to, waking up on my bedroom floor. I knew it was the lack of food that had made me dizzy and faint so I had forced myself to eat some spoonfuls of dry cereal before bed. Spooked by the storm outside, I squeezed in beside Jamie, listening for every sound. Only as dawn filtered through his window blinds did I relax.
‘But I texted you. You said it was OK.’ He took one look at my face. ‘Is everything all right? Is Jamie—’
‘He’s fine.’ I cut off his sentence. ‘But I’m not – I didn’t get a wink of sleep last night.’ I looked him up and down. His crumpled clothes and the shadows under his eyes told me he hadn’t slept much either. ‘Had a good night, did you?’ I hated feeling this way, irritable and snappy. Alex worked hard and deserved a break. But last night had felt like a year without him. I rubbed the back of my neck, still feeling cold prickles after the silent call.
‘It was OK,’ he said, turning his gaze away from mine. ‘I could murder a coffee.’
‘Jamie’s in the living room.’ I sighed.
He threw me a smile, pressing his lips against my cheek in a belated greeting. But it was not before I caught the shadow crossing his face. I thought back to last night when I said I loved him, and he hadn’t responded. Just who had he been with? He had lots of old friends in Leeds – men and women. Was that why he couldn’t meet my gaze today? I inhaled a breath, telling myself not to be so paranoid. I had enough things to worry about, without adding infidelity to the list.
‘Daddy!’ Jamie exclaimed from the living room as I put on the kettle. ‘We’re adopting a polar bear!’ I walked to the open door, listening in on their conversation.
‘Really?’ Alex said. ‘Where’s he going to sleep then?’
‘No, silly,’ Jamie giggled. ‘He doesn’t live here. I get a teddy instead. I’m going to call him Snowy.’
I smiled. Jamie had just begun getting pocket money and had chosen to spend it on a donation to the WWF. Silently I padded back to the kitchen, feeling a swell of pride.
Twenty minutes later Alex followed me in, drawn by the smell of cooking which had carried into the hall.
‘You said you had a restless night?’ he said, gratefully taking his coffee.
‘Yes,’ I said, guarding my words. The last thing I wanted was to sound like some neurotic. ‘It was stormy. Jamie was asleep and the television was turned off. I heard a bang, and then something rapped against the windows.’
‘It’s not surprising you’re jumpy,’ Alex said. ‘But it was probably the storm. There’s always debris flying about.’
‘I had a silent phone call,’ I said, glancing over my shoulder after I turned his omelette in the frying pan.
Alex shrugged, his gaze on anywhere but me. ‘We’re so exposed here. The phone lines probably went down. You won’t know yourself when we move to the city. I’ve spoken to the vendor about that house I showed you online. It’s even nicer in real life. I wish you’d seen it with me.’
I plastered on my brightest smile, but inside I was horrified. ‘I trust your judgement. Put an offer in. The sooner we’re away from here the better.’
Alex leaned his head to one side as he looked at me. ‘It’s really creeped you out, me being away, hasn’t it? Next time you’re both coming with me.’
I dragged my nails down my arm, feeling anxiety crawling beneath my skin. ‘I feel like I’m being watched. A bunch of sunflowers were delivered to the shop for me.’
‘Sunflowers? Perhaps they were from one of your clients,’ Alex said, masking a yawn.
I nodded, frowning at his apparent lack of concern. ‘You don’t seem that bothered.’
‘What? Sorry, love, I’m just tired and hungry. I didn’t sleep too well myself.’
‘I’ll make you some toast to go with this,’ I said, growing annoyed as I plated up his omelette. Why was he being so blasé? I turned to face him, my eyes narrowing. ‘The flowers. The phone call. It’s him. It has to be.’
Alex picked up his knife and fork. ‘I think you’re worrying over nothing.’
An open window was not enough to release the smell of cooking from our tiny kitchen, and I fanned the back door open and closed until fresh air invaded the room. I stood silently, my mind working overtime as I waited for the toast to pop up. I had lied to cover up my eating disorder in the past. Was I like the boy who cried wolf now? I couldn’t bear to see that look of disbelief on my husband’s face again.
‘Aren’t you going to join me?’ Alex said, briefly touching my hand.
‘Sure,’ I said, remembering my fainting attack last night. I had been slipping, losing myself to my eating disorder as I fought to regain control. I could not allow it to happen again.
‘Good,’ Alex said. Despite my reservations, there was concern in his eyes. ‘There’s too much here for me.’
I popped the toast on to a plate and plopped down in the chair. ‘I’m just worried. I don’t know what he’s going to do next.’
Again, he dismissed my fears with a shake of the head. ‘Babe. We’re leaving. It’s not as if we can go to the police. Don’t let it bring you down. Now c’mon, get some food inside you. Please.’
I nodded dumbly, taking a fork from the drawer and spearing a piece of his omelette. I’d added cheese, ham and tomatoes, but it tasted like cardboard on my tongue.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
EMMA
2017
An hour of fussing over Maggie had taken the edge off my morning, soothing my anxiety and calming my thoughts. Helping others was what I loved most about my business; it made me feel like I was worthwhile. As Maggie twirled in her latest choice of bridal gown, her smile lit up the room. Feeling a warm glow, I watched her sway before the mirror as she sang ‘I Could Have Danced All Night’.
Josh handed me the camera. ‘One for the scrapbook,’ he said, with a smile to match my own. The photographs had been his idea, and he had hooked up our digital camera to a Bluetooth printer that delivered images in seconds. Every bride was given one when she chose her gown. That and a glass of Prosecco set us apart from other businesses in town. Thankfully, Maggie didn’t drink, or she would have gotten through several bottles by now.
Coming down from her cloud, she stood before me, flushed from her exertions. ‘I like this one; it feels swishy when I move.’
‘Lace suits you,’ I said, handing Josh the camera as I escorted her to the changing rooms.
Minutes later she was out of her dress and back in her regular colourful clothes. I handed her the photo to add to her collection. ‘Here you go. Don’t you look lovely? Bernard’s a very lucky man.’
‘He was,’ she said, with a sense of finality. ‘This is my last visit. I won’t be coming back.’
‘But . . .’ I was just about to ask why, when she silenced me with a gaze.
‘I know there’s no wedding, I always have. It’s time to join the real world.’ She smoothed down her hair. ‘Still, it was nice while it lasted, and sweet of you to indulge me.’
‘I don’t understand,’ I said, still not wanting to burst the bubble.
‘My son’s paid a visit. He’s got it into his head that I’m senile. I don’t want to go into a home.’
‘But Bernard . . .’
‘Is buried in the graveyard. I’ll still visit him, have a little chat, but I know there’s no wedding. Still,’ she chuckled, ‘it was nice to pretend.’
‘You do know you can come here anytime, don’t you?’ I said, following her to the door.
She shook her head sadly. ‘As the saying goes . . . the past is a nice place to visit but not a good place to stay.’
As I saw her out, I wondered if I would be echoing her words when I was eighty.