She clasped her hands together, stretching them above her head, letting the knots and clicks unpick themselves as she leant from one side to the other. Shaking out the stretch, she looked to her bag. She’d been down to Cakebreads and picked up the letter. She had considered ripping it up. Putting it in the bin. Ignoring it completely, and yet, part of her was curious.
He’d made Mason come all this way, he’d flown him to London, he’d no doubt hired him that massive Range Rover to drive from Heathrow to Cornwall. These were big things, expensive, maybe he did care, maybe he was beginning to realise… But she had left for good reason, hadn’t she? She couldn’t just give in, she’d gone back once before.
The letter shook in her hands.
Dear Emily
I wish I could have come to see you, you must feel so distressed right now, to have run away like this. I guess the clinic was harder than you expected? I understand. If I could have been there to hold your hand through it, baby, you know I would have. And now, all the way in England, I don’t know what made you go so far, we could have talked. I wish I had time to come see you. I sent Mason because I love you. I need you to come home. You need to be at home.
He says the village you bought that place in is beautiful. He says he can see why you’d love it. He says the village shop is like Walmart wrapped in a tiny 4 square meter package. If they don’t have it, you probably don’t need it.
That was true, Emily had never struggled to get what she needed and if she did, it was usually possible to order it in.
So I get it, I really do. But Emily, you can’t work out there. You were born to be on the stage, to be on screen. You are destined for brilliant things. Brilliant things can’t come your way in Cornwall. There’s another job come up, it’s a film. Schwimmer is directing. You’d be incredible in it and he agrees. It could be your big break, Emily. He said he’d keep it open for this week, hence my writing.
Emily paused, looking out to sea. A ship passed slowly on the horizon. At the other end of the beach, someone walked a Labrador, throwing a stick and waiting as the dog jumped after it, leaping in and out of the waves to collect it, then shaking off its coat before dropping the stick for its owner to repeat the process. Simple things. Emily thought and wondered about getting a dog, Jackson had always said no.
The lady in the shop said she’d give you this. So here it is, my letter to you. Come home, baby, please. Let’s talk. We’ve always been able to get through things before. We did the right thing. I miss you. Schwimmer needs you. You need us, let’s make it work.
Love, J x
Emily let out a sigh, falling back onto the towel. The letter clutched in her hand. It was all about work. About her career. Her future. And, as her agent, that effectively meant his work, career and future too. We did the right thing. That’s all he could say. Maybe he’s not the natural parent, maybe he’s the one that shouldn’t have kids. That didn’t mean she couldn’t. If she was ready. If she really wanted to. She could do it alone, couldn’t she? Could she? But was she ready to think about someone else as well as her? Did she even have that in her?
Lolly
Lolly stuck her head around the lounge door. ‘Ted! Leave your brother alone! Stan, stop tormenting him. For god’s sake you two, why can’t you just get on?’
She’d been ignoring the bickering that had escalated to a full-on nuclear fall-out because the dishwasher needed emptying and the washing machine was beeping at her and the dog had done a wee by the kitchen door because neither of the boys had taken her out, despite Lolly asking them to because she needed a wee of her own. And because Kitt was supposed to be here, not her. She grabbed at the remote, choosing something for them to both watch together, ignoring the groans of disgust when she settled on The Worst Witch. ‘It’s good! I used to love this as a kid. I had a cat called Tabby and everything. Now watch this or play nicely together.’
Passing through the hallway to the kitchen, she picked her phone up, dialling Kitt again, his phone going straight through to voicemail.
‘Where are you? Are you okay? Call me!’
She hung up then checked again to see if he’d read her text message. He hadn’t, and she had no idea where he was. Was he okay? Lolly couldn’t help but think the worst when he went off radar like this. The first time, about three months ago, it was all out meltdown: he had definitely been in an accident and if he wasn’t dead, he was at the very least being treated for life changing injuries at Royal Cornwall Hospital. Every time a car went past she paused, waiting for the knock on the door from the police, wondering if she’d instinctively know he was dead, or invite them in for them to break the bad news in serial drama fashion; kids playing in the background, her stifling heartbroken, disbelieving sobs. When he finally walked back in the house she had to pretend she’d not just daydreamed burying him six feet under.
This time though she knew it would be one of his usual reasons. Getting distracted down the pub, or held up at work, or leaving his phone at home/in the car/down at the Blue Bar in Porthtowan. Though irritating, each one was easier to digest than the drama she used to construct. And the smell of stale ale settled any worries she had about affairs. Besides, why do men go off and have an affair? Because they’re not getting any at home and she could categorically say that was not a problem for them at the moment. In fact, he was usually the one to turn her down so it definitely wasn’t going to be that.
Even still, she was pissed off. It had to stop. She was supposed to be at work and it was his turn to cook tea tonight. He’d promised. Thank god one of the girls could take over her shift when she was called by the After School Club because he hadn’t turned up to collect the kids. Maybe she should try Facebook messenger.
Are you coming home!?
she typed, clicking send as she walked into the kitchen to find the water for the pasta about to boil over and the dog eating something suspect beneath the fridge.
Right! I am not doing this alone. ‘Stan! Come and unload the dishwasher, please.’ There was a groan, just audible from the lounge. ‘Ted, can you take the toilet paper up to the bathroom, hang your uniform up, then come back down and set the table, please?’ There was another audible groan and the two of them came plodding through like the teenagers they were a long way off being. God help her when that came to pass. The boys set about their chores and Lolly stirred the pasta pan for a moment, using that as an excuse to gaze out of the window.
Had Jess heard back from Amanda yet? That’s what she wanted to know. Because what she needed at this point in her life was some women to talk to. Women who might have a small chance of understanding what it was like to be a mother to two children with a husband who wasn’t pulling his weight, and her having to keep things fresh and sexy despite wanting to confront him about his absenteeism, because if she was confrontational in any way, there’d be no possibility that they could keep up the sex life she’d been nurturing. They’d managed it twice over the weekend, it wasn’t her optimum time, but it had to all help. Nine months, they’d been trying and nothing. The doctor told them it might take a while, something about turning over his sperm after the reversal, she couldn’t remember the detail, but nine months? That was the longest ever! She’d been pretty quick to catch with the boys, both times thinking they’d have to wait ages and both times falling pregnant pretty much straight away. She knew she was lucky for that and thanked the gods at the time, but still… she just wanted one more. That’s all she wanted. Just one more.
Outside in the garden, the magnolia tree they planted when they first moved in after getting married. It was a gift from her grandparents, something for them to nurture in their new life together. They’d almost killed it the first few years, but it seemed to be doing well now. In fact, it seemed to be thriving like the children, which Lolly was fairly sure had little to do with her, or Kitt for that matter. Nature versus nurture and all that.
The phone rang and she jumped to answer it.
‘Hey, Lol, it’s me.’ Joanna, Lolly�
�s older sister. ‘Just checking in, is now a bad time?’ Joanna had no idea about good times and bad times because she jetted between the UK and the US and her body clock was buggered. That fact, and her lack of children, meant Joanna often called at entirely the wrong time but Lolly was always so pleased to hear from her that she really didn’t mind. ‘I had a moment and it’s been forever since we spoke so I thought I’d give it a go. How are you?’
‘Ah, hey. So nice to hear from you, I’m good thanks!’ Lolly had never been entirely honest with her sister. She’d always put that down to the age gap, eleven years is a lot. And given that their mother passed away when Lolly was just months old, Joanna ended up more mother figure than big sister, something they both disliked but had never found a way to change.
‘So, Lolly, I’ve got a ton of holiday owed and I was thinking, when I’m back in London in a few weeks, I’d extend my stay, come down to see you. Have you room for me? I can always get in at a B&B if not, I wouldn’t want to put you out.’
‘No! Kitt and I wouldn’t hear of it, you must come here.’ Lolly scrunched her eyes up because she knew the boys would hear her and complain about having to share a bedroom again, just to accommodate a visitor. Something else Lolly hadn’t really thought about in terms of having another child. Bedrooms. Kitt kept saying the house wasn’t big enough. ‘How long were you thinking you’d stay?’
‘Well, I don’t want to be a burden, but it’d be lovely to catch up with a few people, chill out a bit, so I don’t know… maybe two weeks?’
Two weeks! Christ, Kitt would go mad. The boys would kick off. She reached for the pesto from the fridge. ‘Two weeks would be amazing. We’d love that.’
‘Are you sure, if you’re sure you’re sure.’
‘Of course I’m sure. Like you say, you want to spend proper time, meet up with people. Hey, speaking of which, I’m hoping to catch up with the girls this weekend.’
‘What girls?
‘THE girls? Amanda, Emily and Jess.’ Lolly poured the pasta into a colander just as Ted came in to start laying the table. ‘I’m talking to your Aunty JoJo, she’s coming over to visit. Won’t that be nice!’ She widened her eyes in warning to both boys so they were clear that moaning was not an option.
‘I thought Emily was over here?’
‘She came back. Says she’s back for good.’ Lolly leaned over to change the knives and forks to the right way around, then felt bad because Ted had tried his best.
‘Oh! Right. Lovely, gosh, it must have been years since you last saw them.’
‘About twenty, I reckon. More or less. Even more since Emily went.’
‘Amazing, I hope it goes well. Let me know, won’t you? Look, someone’s just come in, I need to go. I’ll get the dates emailed, okay. And thanks, Lolly, I can’t wait.’
‘Us too,’ she said, hanging up and dropping her phone on the side.
The kitchen door opened. ‘Who was that?’ asked Kitt, wandering in as if he’d never meant to pick the kids up or cook them tea.
‘Joanna. Where the hell have you been?’ Lolly dumped pasta pesto on each plate, all but throwing them down on the table. ‘Hungry?’
‘Urm, yes, please. Thanks. I’ve been at work. Are you okay?’
‘No, Kitt. I’m not okay. I am supposed to be at work. You were due to be at home with the kids.’
Kitt opened and closed his mouth.
‘This has got to stop! Where the hell is your head?’
‘Sorry, sorry! I thought that was tomorrow. I’ve been… shit!’ He pulled her into a hug. ‘I am SO sorry, it’s been one of those weeks.’
Lolly pulled away as he leaned in to give her a kiss. It had been one of those weeks for months now and she didn’t know how to make it stop.
Jess
Jess stretched out, her desk full of paperwork. The only people left were Jay, Vicky and Jess, everyone else having packed up an hour or so ago. Jay looked up and around. ‘Where’d everyone go?’ he asked.
‘Home! It’s nearly half six.’
‘Shit, really? Christ, I was reading through these old presentations, totally lost track of time. They’re good, better than good.’ He paused, looking at Jess, who went back to her paperwork, busily sifting through things. ‘You’re really great at your job, Jess. I mean, I never doubted it, obviously, but this, it’s seriously impressive.’
‘We’ve got a great team, in fact, that one you’re looking at was mostly Vicky’s work.’
Vicky looked up, beaming. ‘Ahhh, thanks, Jess. I seem to think you held my hand on it though.’
‘Nah, you do yourself a disservice.’
‘Well, whoever, however, it’s great. I’m excited. The more I learn, the more I’m chuffed to be part of the team. You’ll have to teach me some of your magic,’ he said and Jess wondered if there was a hint of flirtation in his tone. He checked his watch. ‘Well, I’d better go. My turn to cook tonight.’
‘Oooh, what you having?’ Vicky loved to talk about food. It was one of the reasons the firm were expanding into the restaurant sector.
‘Actually, I’m cheating tonight. Bought some Homity pie from Archie Browns.’
‘Oh, I love Homity pie. Now I need Homity pie.’ Vicky drifted off as if remembering the last time she ate it.
Jay gathered his bags. Vicky slammed her laptop shut. ‘Yeah, think that’s me done too. You fancy a quick drink, Jess?’
Jess let out a groan. ‘No, I’m okay ta. Gonna finish up on some of this then head off. You there with your Homity goodness, I have a tin of stag chilli with my name on it.’ Jess ignored Vicky’s physical repulsion. ‘It’s that or tinned ravioli.’
‘You need to go food shopping,’ said Vicky. ‘And stop buying tinned food.’
‘You need to stop worrying about my kitchen habits. See you tomorrow.’
Vicky slung her bag on her back. ‘Yeah, alright. See you tomorrow.’
‘See you tomorrow, Jess.’ Jay popped his head through the hoodie he was putting on. ‘Don’t work too late.’
‘Yeah. Thanks.’
Jess waited ’til she heard the doors click shut. She waited for that peace to fall around the office, the corner lights to dim, the whir of Vicky’s laptop to stop. Within minutes, the only sound was a printer somewhere round the other side of the office, set to print some big file and left until the morning. She moved her mouse to wake up her computer. The message from Amanda was awaiting her response, she’d somehow been having second thoughts about the meet up. Jay was really knocking her mood and a quick look on Facebook was enough to see that the others appeared to have life well and truly sorted, with partners and careers and children and lives. Actual lives. Lives that operated outside of their chosen jobs.
The FaceTime sound kicked out around the silence. It was her brother, Matt.
‘Yo, fartface. How are you?’ he said.
Jess laughed. ‘I think it’s the way you greet me that I love the most.’
‘Well, you know. We have to set the tone.’
‘I guess so.’ She stared at the screen, her brother had his iPad leant up against something so he could keep on working whilst they talked. They did that from time to time, when they were both working late. He looked his usual self, he was the walking epitome of a graphic designer. A geek chic tee, messy hair and skin that said I survive on coffee and pork products alone. She was just about to ask him what he was working on when a message from Lolly popped up.
Did you hear back from Amanda, are we on for Sunday?
And before she realised, Jess had let out a sigh that turned into a groan.
‘Oh dear, that sounded painful.’
‘Mmmm.’
He poured coffee from a cafetière into the Doctor Who mug she’d bought him last Christmas. ‘What’s up?’
‘You drink too much coffee. You won’t sleep tonight.’
‘How do you know it’s not decaf?’
‘Because you’re not dead, and that is the only way you’d allow such filth to pass your
lips.’
‘Yes, well, that’s true. But I wasn’t the one to let out a sigh. You sounded like Mum in those days when she knew Dad was still eating a full English at Smokey Joe’s despite the doctor’s specific instruction to stop and them paying for weekly Weight Watchers classes.’
‘Yes, well, it’s not quite that bad.’
‘So what’s up then?’
‘Do you remember Amanda, Lolly and Emily?’ He would remember them. He was obsessed with Emily for many more years than was healthy. She was like the Rachel to his Ross. Only he didn’t stalk her in later life and then control her every move. ‘Well, Lolly got in touch to say that she’d bumped into Emily and that Emily wanted to catch up and would I message Amanda, which I did, and Amanda wants to meet up too and now it seems I’ve agreed to have coffee with them all on Sunday morning.’
‘Shit.’
‘I know.’
‘No! No! I mean, Shit! You’re going to have to go out and meet with real life people that have probably forgotten you’re a dickhead.’ Jess raised her eyebrows at Matt in the same way their mum used to when one of them was in trouble. ‘And looking at me like that is not going to help.’
‘Ahhhh, what am I going to do, Matt? I don’t want to see people. I don’t want to talk to people. Eurgh! People are horrible.’
‘Those people knew you when you were a hormonal dickhead. At least you’re just a dickhead now.’
‘Matt!’
‘Come on, you do this all the time.’
‘What?’
‘You avoid shit. You talk yourself out of things that might be good for you. You decide you won’t like it and then you end up being forty years old with few friends, no husband or boyfriend or significant other. Christ, you’ve not even got a cat, Jess. At least get yourself a cat!’
Her Best Friend's Secret: A gripping, emotional novel about love, life and the power of friendship Page 8
