‘I wonder if they won’t want me to find them, just like my mother didn’t want to be found. I don’t know if I could stand it. What if my mother married another man? Her children won’t want to know about me and I don’t know if I could take the rejection again.’
‘I don’t think she ever married after George,’ Dodie said. ‘My gran knows someone who knows someone who knows… well, you get the picture. But they think Margaret stayed single her whole life; she never got over losing George.’
‘Then there’s nobody to find,’ Julia said.
‘There’s plenty of digging still to do,’ Sally put in brightly. ‘There must be cousins and nieces and nephews and all sorts from both Margaret and George’s side.’
The waitress returned to the table with a tray of drinks, Sally offering a nod of thanks as she placed them on the table.
‘I don’t know,’ Julia said as the waitress left them again. ‘I’d need time to think about it.’
‘Let me follow up the original story with one about our meeting today and let’s see what comes of it,’ Sally suggested. ‘We might get more information and more family members coming forward. After all, wouldn’t it be lovely to meet them?’
Julia stirred her tea silently for a moment. But then she looked up and gave a small nod. ‘Alright,’ she said. ‘Let’s see what happens.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me you were in the paper?’ Ryan pulled a rolled-up newspaper from the pocket of the coat he’d just hung on the back of a chair. He opened it out on the kitchen table to a dog-eared page stained with a coffee ring, where Dodie’s first article about finding the letter was printed.
Dodie stopped stirring the pasta sauce she had on the hob and glanced over, her cheeks flushing. Ryan had been odd when he’d first arrived, and she should have seen this coming. He’d clearly been stewing on his discovery, trying to figure out how to tackle it and wondering what she was keeping from him – she’d have done the same in his place. She wanted to pre-empt the argument they looked set to have, to tell him that he had no need to tackle anything, but doing that would admit she’d been in the wrong. Her silence probably made it look as though she had something to hide, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Making Ryan understand that, however, could be a problem.
She tried to make her shrug seem nonchalant. ‘I didn’t think you’d be interested.’
‘Not interested?’ He slapped the back of his hand on the photo. ‘You’re in the paper and you think I wouldn’t be interested?’
‘It’s only a little write-up. Not like I’m on the evening news or anything.’
‘I still ought to know about it. How do you think it makes it look that I don’t? What do you think my mum makes of it when she’s the one to show me and she can’t understand why I haven’t told her about it?’
Dodie paused for a moment before stirring the sauce again. ‘I suppose you’ve read the story?’ she asked, not looking up from the pan.
‘Sort of… well, no. But my mum told me what was in it. Lucky she hadn’t got rid of the recycling already when she remembered to mention it to me.’
‘So you know it was about a letter. I just didn’t think you’d be interested in it… you’d think it was a waste of time. You’re always saying how you don’t get my fascination with old things and I thought you’d say it was silly chasing around after the owner.’
‘And who’s this guy it mentions? You went to his house?’
‘Only because I thought Margaret’s family might still live there.’
‘Who’s Margaret?’
Dodie held in a sigh. ‘The woman the letter was addressed to: Margaret Vincent. I thought she might still live there but Ed lives there now.’
She glanced up to see Ryan frowning and she knew the look. The cogs were creaking in his brain, trying to place something that should have been significant but as yet not quite knowing how it fitted.
‘Ed?’
‘Edward,’ Dodie said quickly. ‘Edward Willoughby. The man in the article. We found the family, actually,’ she added, realising that her best option now was to come clean. Sally was planning another story and Ryan would think it really weird if Dodie didn’t tell him about it. ‘I met up with Margaret and George’s daughter yesterday. She was given up for adoption as a baby so she never knew either of them.’
‘Yesterday?’
‘At a coffee shop in town. I handed the letter over to her and she’s going to see if she can track down some more of her family with it.’
‘You met this woman? And you didn’t think to tell me?’
‘Like I said, I didn’t think you’d be interested. It’s old stuff, and you hate old stuff.’
‘So you wouldn’t have mentioned it if I hadn’t found out?’
‘I wasn’t hiding anything. How could I be when the world could read the story in the newspaper? I’m sorry if you thought so and from now on I’ll run everything by you.’ Dodie gave the sauce a brisk stir, causing it to spray from the pan. She frowned, wiping it from her apron.
‘There’s no need to be sarky,’ Ryan said, throwing a dark look that she caught as she glanced up.
‘I’m not. There’s going to be another story about Julia in the paper.’
‘Who the hell is Julia?’
‘Margaret’s daughter. The lady who was adopted. It’s very sad, actually.’
‘And you’ll be in the story?’
‘I might be, but it will only be a little mention. Maybe a photo of us together. Nothing huge though.’
Ryan was silent for a moment. Dodie glanced up again. A silent, thoughtful Ryan was never a good thing.
‘I don’t suppose you could open the wine?’ she asked, hoping to distract him. ‘And get some plates out because this will be ready in a minute. There’s parmesan in the fridge if you want to get that out too.’
The ruse seemed to work, because Ryan’s expression cleared and he dug into the kitchen drawer for a corkscrew. ‘Nice wine,’ he said, peering at the label as he collected it and the parmesan from the fridge. ‘Good week in the shop?’
‘Good offer on at the supermarket,’ Dodie said, forcing a careless chuckle.
But when she looked around again, the troubled expression was back on his face. ‘It’s weird,’ he said slowly.
‘What is?’
‘That you need to have this whole other life without me. It’s so secret you can’t even tell me about it.’
‘Do we have to be joined at the hip?’ Dodie turned the heat off and took the pan from the stove. ‘Being a couple doesn’t mean we have to be interested in the same things. I understand you don’t get excited by the same stuff as me and that’s why I try not to force it on you. We aren’t the same, never have been, and it’s never been an issue before.’
‘I still talk to you about my interests even though you don’t like them.’
‘Yep, and it doesn’t make me any more interested, no matter how many times you tell me about the best goal you’ve ever seen.’ She spooned pasta into two dishes. ‘Look, I just feel sometimes like it’s a burden to you, or it’s boring, and so I don’t always tell you about stuff I’m up to. There’s no secret, no other life you’re not allowed to know about, it’s just that. But if you want me to start telling you everything then I will.’
‘Now you make me sound like a control freak,’ he said, and the warning signs of a sulk were in his tone. They were signs Dodie knew only too well. It wouldn’t make for much of a night in, but part of her was just too tired to care, too fed up of pandering to his moods. Yes, she’d been out of order hiding the letter and the newspaper article from him, but he made it so difficult to discuss anything that it was no wonder she’d felt the need to.
‘That’s not what I’m trying to do. We live apart and so there’s going to be a degree of separation in our lives, and that’s just how it is. There’s no reason it should affect the time we spend together, though.’
Ryan was silent again as he poured the wine. ‘I suppo
se,’ he said finally. ‘But we’re not going to be living apart for much longer now,’ he added. ‘After Christmas I’ll be here all the time. Maybe it won’t be such a big deal then.’
‘No,’ Dodie said. ‘Maybe it won’t.’
At this he seemed to cheer, and he smiled slightly as he handed her a drink. But while he visibly brightened, the conversation had the opposite effect on her. Far from being cheered by the prospect of him moving in, Dodie now felt more miserable than ever.
It was Saturday night so everything stopped for Match of the Day. Ryan had even been known to plan sex around it. This Saturday had been no different – they’d eaten their pasta, drunk a good quantity of white wine and settled down to a slew of game shows, celebrity panel quizzes and finally the footballing TV highlight of Ryan’s week. At this point Dodie, woozy from her alcohol intake, tired from her week in the shop, and just plain bored, fell asleep leaning against him on the sofa.
She was woken by the sound of the end credits and Ryan nudging her. She opened her eyes, about to give him a groggy mouthful for being just a little too rough, but was startled into sudden wakefulness by the thunderous expression on his face.
She sat up and rubbed her eyes, instantly sober and awake. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘You got a text.’ Ryan held the phone up to Dodie’s face. She squinted at the message that he’d already opened. It was from Ed, and her blood turned to ice as she read it.
Hey, thanks for letting me know. Who’s come forward? And I’m sorry about the things I said to you on the beach, but I hope you’ll understand why I said them. I know I asked you to stay away, and I stand by that, but I hope if we see each other on the street we can still say hello as old friends.
She looked at Ryan, whose features had never shown such naked anger in all the years she’d known him. Of all the times for Ed to reply to her message about Julia coming forward, it had to be now. Of all the times he could have chosen to apologise for the beach, it had to be now. It looked bad, and even Ryan couldn’t fail to add up the twos and get four. Half an hour either way and she’d have been able to intercept the message and all would be well, but now the situation looked set to blow.
‘Who’s this bloke?’ he asked, his tone cold. ‘Who the hell is this Ed? This isn’t the first time I’ve heard his name, is it? First the newspaper story, and now this? Why all the secrets, Dodie? What are you hiding?’
‘I’m not hiding anything. Ed’s just a friend. He’s—’
‘He’s sorry about the things he said to you on the beach? Come on, Dodie, you think I’m stupid? He’s apologising for things he said on the beach and there’s nothing in it? Please, I know I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed but even I can recognise an affair when I see it!’
‘There’s no affair!’ Dodie sat up, heat rushing to her face. There was no affair, but the awareness of how much she’d wanted one made her burn with shame. ‘He was helping me with the letter, that’s all.’
‘Oh, the letter you couldn’t even tell me about? That letter… the secret letter… the Ryan’s-too-dumb-to-understand letter? I would have helped you!’
‘You would have laughed; told me I was stupid. You’ve always thought my ideas are stupid.’
‘When have I ever said that?’
‘You’ve never had to! It’s in everything you do. When you look at me with that contemptuous smile, when your eyes glaze over as I tell you about something… You don’t need to tell me I’m stupid because I know, but I can’t help it if I see the world differently than you do.’
‘If I’ve been such a terrible boyfriend then why have you put up with me all this time? Made me believe we had a future… let me move in, for God’s sake!’
‘You pushed to move in!’ Dodie yelled. ‘I never wanted you to move in!’
She stopped, her eyes widening as she saw his reaction.
‘I’m sorry,’ she added, ‘I didn’t mean that, I—’
‘Oh, I think you did,’ he said, his tone granite. ‘Now it all makes sense: the unanswered text messages, keeping me away from the flat, secrets and lies… it all makes so much sense. And where does Ed fit in all of this? Is he the reason you don’t want me to move in?’
‘Of course not! There’s nothing going on between me and Ed!’
‘Not what this text message is telling me.’ Ryan unlocked the phone again and as Dodie launched at him to reclaim it, he lifted it out of her way and held her at bay with a hand against her chest. ‘Interesting message thread you’ve got here,’ he said coldly. ‘Looks like you’ve been having a ball with Ed while I was stuck out at Dorchester.’
‘We’re just friends!’ Dodie cried, weaving around and snatching the phone from his grip. ‘And you have no right to read my messages!’
‘It wouldn’t matter if you had nothing to hide.’
‘It would always matter, and that’s just what’s wrong with you! Private is private and what I choose to keep to myself about my life is my business, boyfriend or no.’
‘So now there’s something wrong with me? In that case I’ll take myself out of your way.’
‘Stop twisting things so that it’s always my fault!’ Dodie shouted.
‘I’m not the one having an affair.’
‘I’m not having an affair!’
‘I don’t believe you!’
Her defiant gaze never left his face as they squared up, the next salvo hanging in the air between them, waiting to be fired. In the past they’d argued, of course, but Dodie – peaceful, tolerant, lover of harmony – had always backed down. But something had changed, and if Ryan was waiting for the moment where she apologised and begged for his forgiveness, he was going to be waiting for a long time.
‘I suppose,’ she began, the steadiness of her tone now belying the tumult of emotions that made her hands shake, ‘this is the moment where we admit things aren’t working. You want to believe I’m having an affair then I can’t change that no matter what I say. So believe what you like, and leave me if you like. I’m past caring what you think or do.’
His expression flicked from anger to incredulity in an instant. ‘What are you saying?’
‘Do I really have to explain it again? We’re done. You’re wrong about the affair but you were right about one thing: we’re going nowhere, have been for a long time, and I’m only sorry we kept things going this long when we should have just admitted it.’
‘You’re dumping me?’
‘No, I’m telling you that we should split up – there’s a world of difference.’
‘Look, I’m pissed off, granted, but I don’t want us to split up.’
‘You do,’ Dodie said. ‘You just can’t admit it to yourself yet. I’m only a comfort blanket to you, an old pair of slippers, and that’s no basis for a life together. You don’t love me—’
‘I do!’
‘You don’t. And even if you did, I don’t love you. I’m sorry, Ryan, it’s been fun, but I don’t love you enough to build a life with you.’
‘Then why would you let me move in?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t even know. Guilt. Pretence. Hope that the affection I had for you would turn into love. But all those things were ridiculous. You have every right to be angry at me for not being straight with you about it, if nothing else.’
His mouth hung open. ‘So that’s it?’
‘I suppose it is.’
‘And what does it mean? You’re going off with this Ed bloke?’
‘It has nothing to do with Ed and quite frankly I wish you’d stop blaming him. I’m sorry it’s come to an end like this, but perhaps coming to an end now is the kindest thing before you moved in and things got really complicated.’
He was silent for a moment. ‘You’re saying you want me to go?’
‘You’ve had a drink. I don’t suppose you can go anywhere until the morning.’
‘But you want me to?’
‘That’s not the point. I’d prefer it if we didn’t share a bed tonight,
though.’
‘You want me to sleep on the sofa?’
She shook her head. ‘I’ll take the sofa and you have the bed.’
He didn’t argue. Without another word he took himself through to the bedroom and slammed the door shut. Dodie curled into a ball on the sofa, silent tears streaming down her face.
When Dodie woke from a night of fitful sleep and crept, almost fearfully, into her bedroom, the bed was empty. Despite the gnawing guilt that wouldn’t leave her, and the fact that it would have been healthier for them to talk when they’d had time to sober up, she heaved a silent sigh of relief. Ryan had collected his things and left before the sun was up. Perhaps it was for the best, because in the cold light of day she might have been convinced to give him another chance if he’d asked for it. But another chance would simply have been another lie and it would have made things worse when they split up again, something that, with hindsight, had been inevitable all along.
Her first instinct was to phone Isla, but her friend had enough of her own worries without Dodie adding to them. She could phone her mum but couldn’t face explaining that it didn’t mean she needed to come home to Dorchester. Gran wouldn’t understand, or if she did her response would make little sense. Which left Ed, but why on earth he registered as a potential confidante at a time like this was as unclear to Dodie as it would undoubtedly be to him. Besides, things in that quarter were complicated enough.
So this was it, the first day of her new life as a single woman. When she thought about it that way, an empty future seemed to stretch out before her, featureless and vast. She and Ryan had hardly lived in each other’s pockets but what plans they’d made had included each other. She’d simply assumed that one day they’d be married and buy a house and have kids. And now there was just her and the shop. What did that mean for her life from this day forward?
She pushed away her melancholy thoughts. It was for the best, wasn’t it? That life was a lie and no matter how good everything looked on the surface, the fabric of a lie would never stand enough pressure to prevent it from crumbling in the end. Better to build her future on truth, and the only truth she had right now was that she was alone. Holding on to that thought, she began to clear away the mess they’d left from dinner the night before, and it felt like clearing the mess of an old life to make way for the new.
A Very Vintage Christmas: A Heartwarming Christmas Romance (An Unforgettable Christmas Book 1) Page 19
