Laura’s right shoe was sticking to the pavement and in disgust she stopped and lifted her foot behind her. Chewing gum! Yuck . . . She was trying to scrape it off when there was a noise, a cough. Someone behind her had stopped as well. She lowered her foot and stood there for a minute, fear creeping up on her as she acknowledged her stupidity. She was in a fairly quiet backstreet enclosed by buildings on both sides, a link between two thoroughfares. She sensed the tension of someone holding their breath. Her heart started hammering and she saw there were only a few metres to the end of the street. People crossed in front of her. People who wouldn’t know if she were attacked in this narrow alley. She suddenly ran forward, her foot feeling tacky, holding her back as she grasped for the exit, certain someone was following her. She burst into the road and ran wildly away from the alley, only stopping when she was a good distance away. There were plenty of people around her now. Only then could she look back.
There was no one there. No one except for busy commuters and meandering tourists, who were all intent on their own agendas and took no notice of her. She stared at the opening to the alley, but nobody came out. She waited for what seemed an age, made herself stay a bit longer, then wondered if she should go back and see if anyone was loitering in there but shrank at the idea. No, she wanted the sanctuary of her office and to immerse herself in her work. It was the only thing that could take her mind off things and she turned and hurried away.
FORTY-SIX
Friday 23 October
It was amazing how quickly a person could feel at home, thought Cherry, as she broke eggs into the butter-and-sugar mixture and pressed the button on her – correction: their – brand-new candy-apple-red KitchenAid. The blade beat obligingly and after a few seconds she switched it off. It had been over a month since Daniel had thrown his mother out and three weeks since their engagement and she was baking a cake. Just a little something for him, a surprise while he was out with his friends before he went back to the gruelling schedule at the hospital, but it could just as easily be a celebration. An anniversary. Sometimes she couldn’t believe her luck. She was living in the most amazing apartment that would be her – their home for the foreseeable future, and this was just the beginning of the most wonderful life with the most wonderful man. He’d given her the biggest wardrobe, the most drawer space and his credit card to buy a few things to ‘make it feel like home’. He’d laughingly begged to be let off any shopping trips, and both of them knew she’d rather go alone anyway. She’d even finally bought his – their new sheets.
She added the flour, then spooned the finished cake mix into two tins and put it in the oven. Satisfied, she set the timer. While it was cooking, she would think about her business idea. Do a bit of research. It was important to keep up the appearance of looking for a vocation, even if she made it part-time once they were married. She sat with Daniel’s laptop on the perfect lemon sofa, framed by the cream-and-gold-papered walls, imagining what she looked like. She’d achieved a level of living that she revelled proudly in, and all she had to do was exist in it to feel quietly euphoric. To think, Laura did her utmost to stop this from happening, to stop her from sitting on this sofa, living in this flat, would’ve gladly ruined her whole life without a second thought. She would still stop it if she could. Cherry could not allow her to think she was a walkover, that she could be bullied. When she said she was going to show her what it was like to have someone trample all over everything you cared about, she meant it. It was the only way the woman would understand what it felt like. Would maybe think twice before doing it again. Because a part of Cherry was scared that this could still all be taken away from her. She’d never wanted to fall out with Laura, but Laura had made their relationship impossible with what she’d tried to do.
She lay back and let her eyes rest on the oil she’d bought for Daniel in St Tropez. Although repaired, it would never be as good as it was before she’d slashed it, but it was still the best investment she’d ever made. Soon she would go back to her mother’s and collect the rest of her things. She hadn’t wanted to go before now, as she was enjoying herself too much. Most of it she just wanted rid of, the old Cherry having been annihilated long ago, but there were the books. Boxes and boxes of them. The books were innocent. They were gateways to a different future, a new life and she wanted to keep them with her. She was expecting Wendy to suggest she bring Daniel round for tea, something that she would stall indefinitely. The old feelings of guilt crept back in and she thought, not for the first time, that if her mum weren’t so wrong, she wouldn’t have to feel this way.
She wondered idly how long she and Daniel could go on in this blissful bubble without either mother getting in the way. As far as she knew, Laura still hadn’t spoken to him, and she’d made sure he hadn’t got her letter. He’d spoken to his father, though. It had been last week, when she’d had to hide her delight when Daniel had told her that Howard had left Laura. Good. Apparently, he’d been screwing that Marianne for years, which was just as she’d suspected. He’d rung Daniel and told him the minimum, just that they were getting divorced and he wasn’t to worry. She’d held Daniel’s hand supportively as he repeated the conversation and hoped it had been her letter that had triggered it. It had taken her quite a lot of practice to get the handwriting just right. How smooth was the writing? Did Laura keep her pen on the paper? Were there any areas where the pressure on the pen was lighter or firmer? Then she’d made a master alphabet and practised and practised before composing her note. She’d gambled on only two things: Howard not turning up at the golf club while she did her investigating, and Marianne not recognizing Daniel’s car, something she was fairly confident of as she wasn’t likely to have spent any time at the Cavendishes’ house. And it had been a stroke of luck Howard hadn’t seen her. Then it had just been a matter of posting the letter, from a place away from Chelsea and Croydon. She’d settled on the centre of town and had popped into John Lewis and ordered her bakeware at the same time. It was amazing how you could just go round the shop picking things and then someone would arrange to have them delivered, like you were the lady of the manor. You didn’t have to go online and do it yourself or anything.
The timer went off. Cherry went back into the kitchen and pulled the cakes out of the oven. She sniffed approvingly, then left them to cool and slipped on her jacket and grabbed her keys. Her keys! Her own set! Life was good. And now she was going to get another little surprise, something that would be just hers and Daniel’s.