The Break Up: The perfect heartwarming romantic comedy

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The Break Up: The perfect heartwarming romantic comedy Page 19

by Tilly Tennant


  ‘Siobhan…’

  ‘Go. We have nothing more to say.’

  Lara hesitated. But there was nothing else to say and nothing more to be done. She shouldn’t have come here – she knew that now – but the girl who’d picked her scabs and unravelled sweaters had got her way and now the girl she’d become had paid the price. Right before her eyes, Lara’s life was unravelling again, just like one of those sweaters.

  She shot one last pleading look at Siobhan, but to no avail. Her old friend was not to be swayed on this, was not to be persuaded. They’d said too many harsh words and had both heard things that would cause untold damage for many years to come.

  Without another word, she turned and stepped out onto the street, the slam of Siobhan’s front door echoing around her.

  Sixteen

  She walked home. It was late and it was dark, and it would have been safer to call a cab. But Lara didn’t care. She needed time to think.

  Cars passed her, most of them cabs, headlights throwing long shadows along the pavement. Some of them beeped horns and she heard cat-calling from one through an open window. It bounced off her like rain from a tin roof. Perhaps she deserved it. Perhaps she really was the slut Siobhan had said she was. Was that what she looked like to people? Was that what everyone thought of her? Even Theo?

  It started to rain, light and warm, drops tiny enough to be buffeted by the weakest breeze into chaotic squalls. It was how Lara felt right now: helpless, chaotic, blown where she didn’t want to be, not strong enough to fight back.

  Buttoning up her thin jacket, she walked on, head down against the weather.

  Before she hit her own road, Lara had reached Theo’s and by this time the rain had eased. She’d tried to phone him but there had been no answer. She thought about knocking to see if he was home yet, but she didn’t know what she’d say if he was. Siobhan’s comments bounced around in her head. They had to be lies, didn’t they? And even if they weren’t, even if that was what the band said, Theo wouldn’t say that, surely? Theo would have defended her, wouldn’t he? Theo would have told them to stop. The thought that he might not, that he might join in the scornful laughter, made her feel hollow.

  She looked up at the house. It was in darkness. The gig should have been over by now and he ought to have been home. Maybe he’d stayed on for drinks. Maybe he’d seen that she’d left early and was angry, and had stayed out to spite her. Maybe he was laughing and joking and calling her names even now as he sat with his bandmates. Would Lucien have joined them, fanning the flames, adding his own fuel to the fire, making things worse just because he could?

  Lara swallowed back the tears of self-pity. Perhaps none of that was happening. The set might have run over. He might be catching up with an old friend, talking to appreciative music fans, helping to pack the van. Perhaps there was a simple explanation. She took her phone out and checked it again. There was no message from him, but that didn’t have to mean the worst, did it?

  There was a faint mew from the darkness and Lara looked closer to see Fluffy sitting on Theo’s doorstep, looking up at her.

  ‘So much for staying with me,’ she said, going over to pick him up. He wriggled to break free from her arms. ‘Oh, taking his side now, are you? It’s good to know I’ve got zero people I can rely on and now zero cats as well.’

  He broke free and dropped to the ground with a grace that only a cat could possess. His tail went up in the air and he walked off down the road.

  ‘Well, you meowed at me first,’ Lara said as she watched him go. ‘Stupid cat. Bite the hand that feeds you, would you? Wait until you come for your tuna tomorrow morning because you’re in for a rude awakening!’

  She started to walk again, following the road Fluffy had just taken. It led to her house anyway, and maybe he was heading there after all. She checked her phone yet again, not sure what she was hoping for. If there was a message from Theo it would probably only be something telling her how pissed off he was. But there were no messages – not from anyone. She’d expected one from Theo at least, even half-expected one from a furious Lucien after her visit to Siobhan, but perhaps he would play it cooler than that. He wouldn’t have had to work all that hard on Siobhan anyway to smooth things out, so maybe Lara’s visit had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience for him. Maybe the biggest regrets would be hers, as she now feared. Maybe the biggest casualty of this war would be her too. She didn’t want to believe any of what she’d heard from Siobhan, about what Theo and his band had said about her, but they were lodged in her mind and she kept hearing them over and over, kept seeing Siobhan saying them to her. Had she placed her trust in the wrong man again?

  As she turned the corner into her own street she spotted a man sitting on her garden wall. He was smoking, staring into space. As she got closer she recognised Theo.

  ‘You smoke?’ she said, frowning slightly as he pulled in another lungful, the cigarette glowing brighter momentarily.

  ‘I gave up five years ago. It’s not really a wise choice when you play sax for a living.’

  Looking up at her, he flicked the remainder of the cigarette into the road and stood up. ‘Where have you been?’

  The question was so direct, so confrontational, it threw her. She’d arrived with questions of her own, answers she needed from him, but now he was quizzing her instead, demanding answers from her.

  ‘I could ask the same of you,’ she said. ‘You haven’t been home yet?’

  ‘Neither have you.’

  ‘You’ve been here?’

  ‘For at least an hour.’

  ‘Why didn’t you text me? I’d have come straight here.’

  ‘Instead of where?’

  Lara pulled out her house keys. She needed to have this conversation but it wasn’t one she wanted to have on the street. As she passed him to open up she caught the unmistakable whiff of spirits on his breath. ‘Good night, was it?’

  ‘It was alright. Where did you go when you left the club? I looked for you—’

  ‘I’m sorry about leaving early,’ she said, and on that point at least she understood the need to step back and admit she was in the wrong. ‘It was Lucien… You saw he was there? I mean, we’d expected that he might be.’

  ‘We did. But I didn’t expect you to go off with him. Is that where you’ve been all this time? With him?’

  Lara paused, her key halfway to the lock, and stared at Theo.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Have you been with Lucien?’

  ‘Of course I haven’t!’

  ‘What else am I supposed to think when you left the club with him?’

  ‘I didn’t.’

  ‘So, I look up and you’re gone. Then he’s gone.’

  ‘That means we left around the same time, not that we left together. If he followed me out I have no idea about it.’

  ‘So you haven’t been with him? I mean, you looked pretty cosy when I saw you two sitting together.’

  ‘He came to sit at my table – I couldn’t do anything about it. He was trying to stir up trouble just like he always does.’

  ‘You could have asked him to move.’

  ‘I did but he refused.’

  ‘You could have moved.’

  ‘He’d have followed me. What the hell is going on here, Theo?’

  ‘You leave together and then you’re missing for hours. You never really got over him, did you?’

  Across the road a light went on in an upstairs window. Lara saw the curtain move. Lovely old Mrs Shields who sometimes took in parcels for her. Lara would have to have a word to apologise about the noise tomorrow morning. She lowered her voice.

  ‘Because that’s what you say about me, isn’t it? The bike. She’s a bit rusty but climb on and she’ll go like the clappers.’

  ‘Who told you that?’ Theo asked, and if it wasn’t genuine shock on his face he was a brilliant actor.

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ Lara cried, her eyes filling with tears. ‘You’re saying it! You and
Chas and those other pointless blokes who are so irrelevant I can’t even remember their names! You’re all saying that! Did you have a good laugh about it at band practice? Did you go to them after the first night for pats on the back?’

  ‘Stop it!’ Theo said, his voice low and urgent, all traces of his own outrage gone. ‘I’d never speak about you like that and I can’t believe you’d think I would!’

  ‘Well, that’s not what I heard.’

  Theo stared at her. He shook his head. ‘Tell me who said this.’

  ‘Why should I? What does it matter? Is it true?’

  ‘I can’t believe you’re asking me that.’

  ‘Neither can I but I want an answer. Answer me, Theo – is it true?’

  ‘I refuse,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m insulted and hurt that you’re asking me. I thought we had something; I didn’t want to listen to what the others said about you because I thought they were wrong, that they didn’t know you like I did. I guess that makes me an idiot.’

  ‘I’m the idiot for thinking you could be better than the other lowlifes I’ve been with.’

  ‘Is that what you think? You think I’m a lowlife?’

  ‘Just tell me it’s not true. Tell me you didn’t say those things.’

  ‘If you have to keep asking me then we have nothing. We never had anything.’

  ‘So you said it?’

  Theo looked at her, as if to memorise the details of her face, and then he shook his head again.

  ‘Bye, Lara.’

  ‘That’s it? You’ve got nothing else to say?’

  ‘What else is there?’

  ‘Fine. If that’s how you feel, don’t come back!’

  He stepped away, onto her tiny path, out to the street. ‘I wasn’t planning on it.’

  Lara stood at her front door, defiant, furious, desperately wounded, wanting him out of her sight but terrified that she’d never see him again. She wanted to say something; she wanted to make this right, but nothing was going to make this right, not now, not when so much had been said that was wrong.

  He began to walk away. He didn’t look back. When he’d turned the corner of the street and had disappeared, Lara went inside and shut the front door, falling onto it, heaving, wracking sobs ripping through her, as if she would cry her entire being out. Through her tears she made out the blurred shape of grey fluff at her feet and felt the soft fur of Fluffy against her legs. He’d do his best to love her, as he always did, but even Fluffy couldn’t put this right.

  Seventeen

  Lara had struggled to get up the following morning. She was exhausted, of course, but part of her wondered what the point was. If she hadn’t had a full working day to get through, and if not getting up hadn’t meant letting Betsy down, she would have stayed in bed, staring at the walls.

  Just before eight thirty she fed Fluffy and went to unlock the garden gate ready for Betsy. Her apprentice would want to know why Lara looked so awful this morning and Lara would probably have to tell her. She wasn’t looking forward to that, but at least Lara’s example might be a valuable lesson that would save Betsy some heartache sometime in her own future. If nothing else good came from this whole mess, perhaps there would be that.

  As she was pocketing her key, Betsy arrived. Lara did an almost comical double take. As she’d looked in the mirror that morning, trying to do something with her make-up that might hide the bags under her eyes, she hadn’t imagined that anyone could look worse – but Betsy had managed it.

  ‘Good morning,’ Betsy said, her voice so dull that Lara could barely recognise her as the girl who usually bounced in, full of beans and ready for the day ahead. At least, that was the girl who had first started to work for Lara – some mornings over the last few weeks Lara hardly knew who to expect. This one looked like it was going to set a new record for gloom.

  ‘You look terrible,’ Lara said.

  ‘Sorry,’ Betsy replied.

  ‘I don’t mean that. Are you OK?’

  ‘Oh, I’m fine.’ Betsy came in through the gate and walked past Lara, straight to the summer house. Lara swung the gate shut and hurried after her. In the office, Betsy was silent as she unpacked from her bag the things she’d need to start work.

  ‘Are you feeling alright?’ Lara asked.

  Betsy looked up and gave Lara a smile that was clearly forced. ‘Of course.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Lara didn’t believe it for a minute, but if Betsy didn’t want to tell her what was wrong she could hardly make her. ‘Do you want a coffee?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ Betsy said. That was all. No mention of cakes, no banter, no ‘Yes, boss’…

  Lara’s frown deepened as she watched her assistant log onto her computer. Betsy had been off for a couple of weeks now – one minute up, the next down. You could put only so much down to hormones or late nights. It was affecting the atmosphere in the office, but Lara had been patient about that, hoping that whatever was happening in Betsy’s private life would resolve soon enough. It hadn’t affected her work – yet. But if things continued to deteriorate, there was a chance it would.

  ‘I’ve had some thoughts about your pay rise,’ Lara said. ‘I’ve been speaking to Terry and I think, between us, we’ve managed to come up with a figure. Shall we have a chat about it when I’ve made the drinks?’

  ‘Thank you,’ Betsy said.

  Lara left the office, deep in thought, eyes on the ground as she went. It promised to be another dry day, though thankfully a little cooler than of late, with a sweet breeze rustling the olive tree that sat in a pot on her patio. If Betsy wasn’t going to tell Lara voluntarily what was wrong, perhaps Lara could draw her into it without her realising she was giving anything away. Subtle, slow… that was the way to do it. Engage her in an unconnected conversation and gradually bring it round. It had to be worth a try.

  She returned to the office a few minutes later with two mugs and a plan. She gave one of the mugs to Betsy.

  ‘OK,’ she said, perching on the corner of her desk and regarding Betsy over the top of her mug as she took a sip. ‘Terry and I were thinking I could probably afford—’

  Betsy’s lip began to tremble and her eyes filled with tears. The time for subtle plans had already passed.

  ‘OK, seriously,’ Lara said in her best boss voice. It wasn’t because she was annoyed with Betsy, but because she thought it might just be scary enough to get something out of her. Something wasn’t right and Lara couldn’t allow it to go unaddressed any longer. ‘I know there’s something you’re not telling me and I need to know what it is. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen you close to tears for reasons I just can’t work out.’

  Betsy shook her head miserably.

  ‘No, not good enough,’ Lara said sternly.

  ‘I’m sorry, Lara, I can’t…’

  ‘Then I’ll have to put you on a verbal warning.’

  ‘No!’ Betsy cried. ‘Please don’t do that!’

  ‘So tell me what’s wrong,’ Lara said, her tone softening.

  ‘You’ll fire me.’

  ‘I won’t fire you,’ Lara replied, faintly alarmed by the notion that Betsy might tell her something so bad that she’d have to fire her.

  ‘Promise?’

  ‘I can’t do that. I don’t know what it is. Is it something at home? Something you’ve done here that you daren’t tell me about? If it’s that I’m sure we can put it—’

  ‘Oh, Lara,’ Betsy said. ‘I’m pregnant.’

  Lara shuffled slightly on her perch, hands clasped round her mug. She had to be careful not to look shocked, because Betsy was clearly distressed and she didn’t want to make it worse. But she was a little shocked. Betsy had never mentioned any kind of long-term boyfriend. She hadn’t even mentioned a casual boyfriend, though Lara realised there must have been dalliances she probably wouldn’t have heard about.

  ‘You’re going to fire me, aren’t you?’ Betsy sniffed.

  ‘Of course not,’ Lara said gently. ‘How long have you known?�


  ‘I did the test this morning.’

  ‘That would explain the shell-shocked look you had when you got here. You must have suspected before now though? Why on earth didn’t you say something?’

  ‘I didn’t know… I didn’t want to say…’

  ‘I suppose I might not want to either unless I was sure; I can hardly blame you for that. I take it this wasn’t on your to-do list?’

  ‘I only slept with him twice and then we broke up. I thought… it was only twice – I thought we’d be alright.’

  ‘Oh,’ Lara said, carefully. ‘How long ago was this?’

  ‘About three months ago.’

  ‘And you’ve only just realised you might be pregnant?’

  ‘No. I sort of guessed, but I didn’t want to think about it. I was scared to check and I thought I might be wrong. And I’d only just started to work for you and my friend Shona got pregnant when she’d only just started her job at the kebab shop and her boss fired her because he said she must have known when she got the job and she was trying to fiddle maternity pay out of him; she hadn’t, but she couldn’t get her job back because he didn’t believe her—’

  ‘Betsy,’ Lara cut in, ‘I’m not going to fire you no matter when it happened.’

  Betsy began to cry again. ‘I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?’

  ‘No, you haven’t. We can work around it, I’m sure.’

  ‘I was so scared to tell you,’ Betsy said. ‘I love working here; it’s the best job I’ve ever had and all my mates are so jealous. I don’t want to leave.’

  ‘You won’t have to. Unless you want to once the baby comes, of course…’ Lara paused. ‘This is a bit delicate, but I take it you are planning on having the baby?’

  ‘You mean abortion? Oh, I couldn’t do that.’

  ‘And you’re keeping it once he or she is born?’

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘What have your parents said?’

  ‘Nothing yet – I haven’t told them. There wasn’t time this morning. Mum will kill me.’

 

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