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A Cottage by the Sea

Page 35

by Carole Matthews


  I march back across the gravel, purposeful. Like the dolphins swimming across the horizon at Skomer, I’m focussed on my goal.

  ‘Grace.’ Harry’s voice wobbles. ‘What are you doing with that? Put it down. Be a love.’

  Flick says nothing.

  ‘Grace!’ Harry shouts now. ‘Don’t do this! You know you’ll regret it!’

  But, do you know, I don’t think I will.

  I glance at Flick, but she says nothing, does nothing.

  ‘Grace! Nooooo!’ He lunges at me, but he’s too late to stop me.

  With all my strength, I raise the golf club in my hand high in the air and bring it down, full square, on the bonnet of Harry’s beautiful Bentley. I let out a cry of splendid release as it sails towards its target. The metal crunches satisfyingly beneath my blow.

  Harry leaps towards me. I whirl the club at him and, quite wisely, he leaps back. ‘Flick, do something,’ he implores. ‘Stop her.’

  Flick stays where she is. So I climb up on to the bonnet and hear Harry squeaking in dismay. The golf club is planted directly in the centre of the roof and then I climb down again. Perhaps I don’t look my most elegant, but I get the job done.

  ‘Grace!’ Ella is shouting now. She’s clearly heard the noise of crumpling bodywork and has come to see what’s going on. ‘What are you doing?’

  She runs up to our little group, but Flick holds her back. ‘She’s doing what she needs to do, Ella.’

  I move to the side of the car, set up my swing – I did have a lesson or two many moons ago, but golf was never going to be my game. I slam the club into the driver’s door, caving a spectacular circular depression in it. I feel years of anguish, frustration, emptiness, my attempts at perfection, flooding out of me.

  ‘Oh, God!’ Harry is running up and down, tugging at his hair. ‘Oh, God!’

  Somewhere in my rational mind, the thought comes to me that I shouldn’t smash the windows as I still want them to be able to drive away. So, instead, I move round the Bentley, taking a swing at each of the panels.

  ‘Oh, my car,’ Harrys laments. ‘My poor car!’

  I hack three lumps out of the lid of the boot, which, let’s face it, wasn’t in pristine condition to start with. With my last bit of effort, I take out the panels on the passenger side. Flick watches impassively.

  Harry dives towards me again.

  ‘Leave her,’ Flick snarls. His face darkens but, with a protesting shout of ‘Aaaargh!’ to the sky, he obeys.

  And then, to be honest, my anger is spent. My arms ache and I let the club drop to the ground. My breathing is heavy. That really was quite hard work.

  Harry darts backwards and forwards, inspecting the damage and making strangulated sounds of anguish.

  ‘Next time,’ I pant, ‘get a less stupid car, Harry.’

  I think he might spontaneously combust with impotent rage.

  When my breath is steady again, I turn towards Flick. She’s grinning at me. ‘I would have done the same thing.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Better now?’

  ‘Yes,’ I say. ‘I think I am.’

  ‘Do you think we’re going to be all right?’

  ‘Yes.’ I sound ridiculously bright. ‘I think we are.’

  ‘I love you,’ Flick says. She gives me a brisk hug and kisses my cheek. ‘Harry, get in the car!’

  With a long and lasting howl of pain, Harry does as he’s told. With a hefty yank, the crumpled door creaks open and he hurls himself into the driver’s seat. Flick opens the passenger door, which drops on its hinges. I have to help her to close it. She fusses with getting comfortable. As I step away to pick up the golf club again, I see Harry cower behind the steering wheel, his hands over his head.

  ‘She’s finished,’ Flick snaps. ‘Don’t you know anything?’

  With shaking hands, Harry starts the engine.

  Flick lets her window down. It jams near the bottom and won’t go any further. She peers over the top of the glass. ‘I’ll phone you.’

  ‘Leave it for a few days,’ I tell her. ‘I need time for this to settle.’

  ‘How will you get home?’

  ‘Oh.’ Hadn’t actually thought about that. ‘I can probably come back with Ella.’ Or Noah. ‘I’ll fix something up.’

  ‘Can we go now?’ Harry asks tentatively.

  ‘Yes,’ Flick says. ‘We can go.’

  And there’s a look that travels between them: a mixture of relief and disbelief that they have come to this. But there’s love too in their eyes. A lot of it. It seems genuine and warm. I’ve never seen either one of them look like that before and I realise that I’m glad of it. I hope they make it. I hope they’ll be happy together.

  It’s my time to go. I hold up my hand to wave and bite down on my tears. I hear the crunch of tyres on gravel, but I don’t turn round. I don’t look back. I keep walking forwards, towards Cwtch Cottage and the future.

  Chapter Seventy-Eight

  Ella is waiting for me, arms open wide. She folds me into her embrace. Despite her tiny size, her strength comforts me.

  ‘I’m exhausted,’ I admit as we walk back to the cottage. Taking a golf club to a Bentley has left me physically and emotionally spent.

  ‘What came over you?’ she says. ‘It’s not like you, Grace.’

  I manage a smile. ‘That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.’

  I don’t want to be the woman who does the right thing, who always wants everyone’s approval, who is always perfect. I want to be ruled by passion and fury, joy and rage. I want to act on whims, be led by impulse, be unpredictable. Maybe this is just the start.

  For too long I’ve been in the role of the girl who plays nicely with the other children. They’re the ones who get put upon all through life. They’re the ones who sit degrees that they don’t want to take, do jobs that they hate, marry men that they don’t love with all of their hearts, with every fibre of their being. I feel it’s time to dump that Grace. It’s time I did what I want to do.

  ‘I think if I was you,’ Ella says, ‘I’d have wanted to plant that golf club into both of their heads.’

  I chew my lip. ‘I feel quite bad now.’

  ‘You shouldn’t,’ Ella assures me. ‘I’m sure you’ve hit Harry where it hurt most.’

  He certainly was very fond of that car.

  ‘Actually, I don’t feel bad at all.’ A slightly hysterical giggle escapes my lips. ‘I think that has probably just saved me years of therapy.’

  Back in the kitchen, I flop down on to the worn sofa and let out a heartfelt ‘Ouf’. Like this sofa, I feel as if all the stuffing has been knocked out of me.

  I’m trembling on the outside, but inside there’s a core of calm that I never even knew I possessed.

  ‘You’re going to have a medicinal brandy,’ Ella insists. ‘Even though you don’t like drinking.’

  ‘I think there are certain occasions that warrant it,’ I concede.

  Ella roots in a cupboard until she finds the dregs of a bottle that has escaped from Harry and Flick’s drinking games. She pours me out a small glass.

  ‘Did you know, Ella?’

  I wonder if Flick has confided in her and whether she chose to keep the secret.

  ‘No,’ she says and I believe her. ‘Although I did begin to suspect that there was something fishy going on. Even for Flick, she’s been behaving strangely recently. She told me that there was another married man on the scene, but that’s nothing new. I never suspected it was your husband. Then I thought I caught a glimpse of them kissing at the beginning of the week when we went to Portgale beach. They pulled apart quickly and Flick, as usual, made a big joke of it. I couldn’t be sure. It made me wonder, though. Flick looked extremely shifty. But then you can never quite be sure what Flick’s up to. I asked her if anything was going on and she assured me there was nothing between them. I took her at her word. Maybe, I should have told you.’

  ‘I’m not sure that I would have believed it.’r />
  ‘No offence, Grace, but the last person on earth I’d imagine her with is Harry. He’s far too staid for her – and for you. It won’t last.’

  ‘Maybe Flick will change,’ I offer. ‘I hope so.’

  But, as part of the new me, I’m not going to worry about their happiness. That’s now very much up to the two of them.

  Ella hands me the brandy. I sit and sip it, gratefully. The smooth warmth feels comforting. I don’t know if it’s a myth that you should give brandy to someone in shock, but it certainly seems to be hitting the spot. And that’s another thing that has instantly shifted in me. I no longer need to feel responsible for someone else’s drinking habits – excessive or otherwise. All I have to look after now is me. If I have a brandy, I don’t have to worry that it will start Harry off on a drinking session. If I want to open a bottle of wine, I know that it doesn’t then have to be drained to the bottom in as short a time as possible. I can enjoy it at my own leisure or not.

  Ella sits down next to me and we cuddle up together. ‘Do you know what you’ll do?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’ How can I even begin to tell Ella about my hazy, crazy plan as I haven’t even had time to fully formulate it myself yet? ‘I only know that I can start all over with a blank page. I think it’s time to turn my life around. I’ve been stuck in a rut with my job, with my relationship, with how I run my life in general. If it’s done nothing else, then this has jolted me out of it.’

  Everything that I used to think mattered doesn’t any more. I may not like what Flick has done, but I can’t help but admire the way she goes all out for what she wants. At any cost.

  ‘I want to try to use it as a fresh start.’ Harry and I aren’t short of money and I can’t imagine that he’ll be difficult about dividing everything. There’s nothing I want from the flat, so as long as he can give me my fair share, I’m happy just to walk away. ‘I’ve told Harry that he can buy me out of the apartment. I’m sure he’ll want to. He loves it there.’

  ‘Where will you move to?’

  I give her a watery smile. ‘I’m thinking here,’ I admit.

  Ella’s eyes widen. ‘You’re kidding me?’

  ‘Why not?’ I shrug. ‘This could be a complete new start for me. What’s to hold me in London?’

  ‘Your job?’

  ‘I haven’t thought it all through properly yet. It’s just rattling round in my head.’ My brain feels as if it’s got a million bees buzzing in it. ‘But I think I’m going to give in my notice on the partnership too,’ I tell her. ‘If there’s one thing this week has taught me’ – and I feel as if there have been many lessons – ‘it’s that life is too short to spend it doing something that I hate. I’m still young enough to turn it all round, do something else. I don’t want to be an accountant for the rest of my life. It bores me to tears. I’d like to do something outside, work with nature.’

  I have no idea in what capacity, but the trip to Skomer island with Noah made me think that I have a lot more to offer than my ability to juggle figures so that people can cut their tax bills. I could volunteer in some capacity to get experience and I’d have many more opportunities down here than in London, that’s for sure.

  ‘With the sale of my share of the flat, I’ll have some money behind me, so I won’t have to find work immediately.’ If I’m careful, it could last quite a while. I’m not like Flick, I don’t have to buy all the latest designer gear. I could give all that up quite easily.

  ‘Now I’m excited,’ Ella says. ‘If you’re going to do this, Grace, you have to come and live here with me. Please tell me that you will.’

  ‘I was hoping you’d say that,’ I confess. ‘I’ve been really worrying about you, Ella. I didn’t want to see you here alone with a new baby. If I can be here for you through that time, then I really want to be.’

  She hugs me tightly. ‘You are the best friend a woman could have.’

  ‘I think if we’re together, then it will be a better experience for you both.’ I can also help with babysitting duties when Ella wants to get back to work. I’m getting all broody just thinking about it.

  A thrill of excitement runs through me. I’m sure that my partners will let me work out my notice at home. Which means that, in theory, I can be back in Pembrokeshire within a matter of weeks. Harry can sort out the details on the flat. It’s the very least he can do, after everything he’s put me through. It’s bizarre, but already he’s in the past tense. Perhaps adrenaline is helping me to deal with this or maybe I’m just stronger than I think.

  ‘It’ll be like being room-mates again,’ Ella says.

  ‘It won’t,’ I assure her. ‘Those gauche, optimistic girls have long gone. We’re successful, mature women. Maybe we’ve been unlucky in love, but we’ve got our act together now. This is a new phase in our lives. And we are going to smash it!’

  ‘I’ll drink to that. Well, I would do if I could!’ She licks her lips covetously. ‘God, that brandy looks good. But I don’t think that someone would forgive me.’ She pats her bump fondly.

  ‘You can inhale mine,’ I tease, wafting the glass under her nose.

  We both laugh and then my laughter turns to tears that I can’t stop and Ella gets me the kitchen roll to weep into and holds me, rocking me in her arms on the sofa. She cries too.

  I cry for what I’ve lost and for what I might be about to find. For the end and the beginning. And when, eventually, my tears run dry, Ella and I cuddle up to each other again.

  ‘Oh, Grace, did you ever think we’d come to this?’ she says, twirling one of my curls in her fingers. ‘I thought by the time we were this age that we’d all be settled down with reliable husbands, 2.4 children each and an Aga. Funny how life turns out.’

  ‘Hilarious,’ I say and that sets us off laughing and crying again.

  In the middle of this, Noah walks into the kitchen.

  His face is sombre and he frowns as he says, ‘Have I missed something?’ He flicks a thumb towards the road. ‘I’ll swear that I’ve just seen Harry and Flick driving away in the Bentley and it was absolutely covered in dents.’

  That sets us off again and we laugh until our sides ache, while Noah waits patiently for us to calm down. When we finally stop and blow our noses and wipe our eyes, he says, ‘I daren’t even ask. I’m frightened I might set you both off again.’

  Ella eases herself from the sofa. ‘You two should go out on to the beach for a stroll and you can fill Noah in. I’m going to make a start on dinner. I don’t know about you, but all this emotion has given me an appetite.’

  I’m starving too, now that Ella mentions it.

  ‘All what emotion?’

  I link my arm through his and lead him outside. ‘Quite a lot has happened while you’ve been away, Noah.’

  Chapter Seventy-Nine

  He holds his hand out to me and we scramble down the rocks, on to the sand. The tide is coming in. We slip off our shoes and walk along the edge of the surf, letting the cold water gently wash over our toes.

  ‘Want to tell me what I missed?’ he says. ‘It looked as if someone had taken a baseball bat to the Bentley.’

  ‘It was a golf club,’ I tell him.

  He raises his eyebrows at that.

  ‘And I was the one who did it.’

  Now he stops in his tracks and stares at me. ‘Isn’t that slightly out of character?’

  ‘For the old me,’ I agree. ‘But maybe not for the new me.’ We walk along some more and I kick at the sand. ‘Harry and Flick have gone back to London.’

  ‘I’m assuming they didn’t go just as friends?’

  ‘No.’

  Noah blows out a heavy breath. The sun is low in the sky, its rays fanning out across the water. Gulls cry overhead.

  ‘So there was someone else all along. I suspected as much.’ He rubs his stubble. ‘I just never thought it was Harry.’

  ‘Me neither,’ I say flatly.

  ‘What did they do? Did they just come out and tell you?’
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br />   ‘Not quite.’

  The images of them bouncing around on the bed replay for me. It makes me squirm inside and I think it may have put me off sex for life. It would have been so much easier if they could have just told me about it.

  ‘I caught them in a compromising position, you could say.’

  He shakes his head. ‘Wow. That’s bad.’

 

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