Getting over Gary (Whitsborough Bay Trilogy Book 2)

by Jessica Redland

  Yet he’d still left me.

  I bent my head over and held it in my hands. What a mess!

  I sat on the wall for about half an hour, but I could feel the prickling sensation of burning on my pale skin and knew I’d have to get out of the sun or add physical pain to the emotional pain I was already experiencing. I texted Gary to tell him that he could move back in that evening, then drove back to Fountains Close where I Skyped Dad, phoned Jess, phoned Sarah and texted Stevie. Dad offered to get the next flight over from Spain, but I insisted he stay put. I’d see him at Jess’ wedding and we’d spend some quality time together then. Jess, after calling Gary every name under the sun, said she would offer to help me pack, but was looking after Megan for Izzy and there’d be no chance of packing anything if she brought Megan over.

  Half an hour later, despite insisting I could manage, Sarah pulled up outside. ‘You helped me move twice in less than a year,’ she said as I hugged her gratefully. ‘It’s the least I can do.’

  Ten minutes later, Stevie turned up too. ‘Don’t want you taking too much weight on that bad ankle,’ he said, giving me another of his amazing bear-hugs.

  Three pairs of hands made light work of it and packed up all my summer clothes, the essentials from my office, my toiletries, and anything else I might need in the foreseeable future. I’d return another weekend to pack up the rest of my belongings when I’d worked out where to live on a more permanent basis.

  Closing Bertie’s boot, I took one last look at 9 Fountains Close and sighed. It was over. My marriage was over. I’d never really known the man I’d loved since I was fourteen. As a result, I no longer knew who I was. Well, it was time to find out and, thankfully, I had some great friends around me who’d help me do just that.

  Sarah put her arm round my waist. ‘It’ll be okay. You’ll get through this.’

  I swallowed hard on the lump in my throat. ‘Do you think so?’

  ‘Not overnight, but it will happen. I guarantee it.’

  As I backed Bertie off the drive, I hoped she was right because, despite everything that had happened, the thought of life without Gary absolutely terrified me.

  Chapter 11

  The next two weeks flew by as I settled into my new home, Smuggler’s View. A cosy eighteenth century cottage in The Old Town, I’d often enjoyed school holiday sleepovers there with Sarah when we were kids. We used to tell each other stories by torchlight as we snuggled under the blankets and listened to the waves from the distant shore. I’d never imagined back then that I’d be sleeping in that same room, on that same bed, at the age of thirty because my marriage had fallen apart.

  The EGO programme and play rehearsals kept me occupied for a couple of evenings a week and, on the others and during weekends, I joined Kay for walks along the coast. Sometimes we talked about Gary. Sometimes we talked about Charlie, the love of her life who’d died when his car left the road on his way to propose to her on her twenty-first birthday. She’d closed herself off to relationships ever since. Sometimes we shared companionable silence while she took photos and I stared at the sea, trying to work out what I wanted from life without Gary.

  I avoided everyone else, though. I didn’t want sympathetic looks or clichés about time being a great healer or there being plenty more fish in the sea. I didn’t want a new fish; I wanted my old one! I wanted my life back the way it was meant to be: happily married to Gary, looking forward to starting a family, and basking in the excitement of being bridesmaid at the weddings of the two women I cared most about in the world.

  Sarah asked to meet up on several occasions, but I fobbed her off with a myriad of excuses. It was a self-preservation thing because I didn’t have the strength in me to be excited about two weddings and, as Jess’ was soonest, I had to put what little wedding excitement I could muster into hers. I had the luxury of time before Sarah’s so I could make it up to her later. It was also a friendship-preservation thing too. What sort of friend would I be if I rained on her parade with my current negativity towards the sanctity of marriage? The occasional text or email was definitely the way to go until I felt more positive about things.

  Stevie texted me several times and invited me out for a drink. I felt bad for putting him off, but what if he told me news about Gary and Rob that I didn’t want to hear? It was hard enough psyching myself up to opening texts from him, just in case, without meeting him in person, even though I really needed one of his super-hugs.

  A couple of days after I moved in, Sarah managed to set up an appointment with the solicitor from Bay Trade, a business club she attended, including negotiation of a large discount in exchange for me giving some confidence coaching to his painfully shy ten-year-old son.

  Sitting in front of a stranger one evening and saying, ‘I want to divorce my husband,’ felt very surreal, but Richard was incredibly reassuring and guided me through every step of the process. Providing Gary didn’t dispute things, it should be fairly straightforward. Surely he wouldn’t dispute it? How could he?

  At school, I received some amazing news. Graham had secretly nominated me for ‘Exceptional Teacher of the Year’ for my work on the EGO programme and I was invited at very short notice to attend a black tie dinner. To my surprise, I won the award for Yorkshire. Clutching the glass plaque as cameras flashed, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The EGO programme had been the catalyst that turned Gary’s attentions elsewhere, yet it had also brought a close to a sham marriage. Ultimately that had to be a good thing, hadn’t it? Surely a marriage built on lies wasn’t a marriage at all.

  I must have gone through every array of emotions during that first fortnight at Smuggler’s View. Some nights I drifted off to sleep feeling really positive about the future. Other nights, I sobbed myself to sleep instead. I missed Gary. I missed his friendship. I missed his presence. I missed our routines. I missed giggling with him over some of the hilarious mistakes some of my students made in their homework, and I missed hearing about the latest embarrassing medical complaint he’d encountered or the ridiculous ailments dreamt up by his hypochondriac patients. And, most of all, I missed the possibilities that our future together had held. The longing for a baby grew stronger every day, perhaps because of the Gary-shaped gap in my life.

  On the Sunday of the final weekend in June, three weeks after Gary’s betrayal, I found myself in front of the Internet researching my options. Insemination. Adoption. Fostering. What a minefield! I read several pages on insemination, shaking my head. Aside from the expense and the complications brought on by legislative changes, could I really start a life using a donation from a stranger? It felt wrong considering anyone other than Gary as the father of my children.

  I gazed down at the engagement, wedding, and eternity rings that I still wore. When Gary had placed each of them on my finger, I’d truly been happy and in love. I’d believed we were two who would become three, four, five… To me, those three bands symbolised our love and our intention to create new life. The love had gone — or at least it had on his part (if it had ever been there) — but I hadn’t been able to bring myself to remove the rings. Was it because I still saw Gary as the father of my children? I’d come to terms with him not being my husband… sort of… but until I came to terms with him not being the father to my children, I couldn’t think about other options. And I couldn’t remove the rings.

  I logged off my laptop and went for another long walk, on my own this time, to try to clear my head. I have no idea whether I did it consciously or unconsciously, but I found myself outside the community centre where my former counsellor, Jem, ran a Sunday morning yoga class.

  ‘Elise! How wonderful to see you.’ Jem kissed me on one cheek then the other when he emerged from the building roughly five minutes after the last class member.

  I sat down on the bench again. ‘I’m sorry for turning up like this. I should have phoned and made a proper appointment…’

  He sa
t on the bench beside me and ran his fingers down his strawberry blond goatee while he studied my face. ‘I’ve been thinking about you a lot this week. I had a feeling I’d see you soon.’ Jem had always made it clear that he wasn’t officially psychic, but he did possess some form of sixth sense. ‘It’s not about your mother this time, is it?’

  I sat on my hands and swayed back and forth a couple of times. ‘No. Gary and I have split up.’

  ‘He’s seeing someone else?’

  ‘Yes. A man.’

  ‘Oh.’ Jem stood up and reached for my hand to help me to my feet. ‘I have an hour. Do you want to come to the studio to talk about it?’

  ‘Yes please. I’m not coping very well. I need your help.’

  On the Thursday night that week, a text arrived:

  * From Gary

  Please can we meet at the house later tonight? I need to talk to you. It’s urgent

  I pushed my half-eaten plate of risotto away and sighed as I stared at the message. What did he want?

  ‘I take it that’s from Gary,’ Kay said.

  ‘How did you guess? He wants me to go to the house tonight. Says it’s urgent.’

  ‘Are you going to go?’

  I shrugged. ‘I suppose I should. I’ve managed to avoid anything face to face since I moved out, and I’ve always known we’d have to talk eventually.’

  ‘Could be a good chance to tell him you want a divorce,’ she suggested.

  I’d asked Richard to hold off sending Gary a letter, feeling that I should tell him to his face. ‘You’re right. It all seems so final, though. Oh gosh, what if he wants to tell me that he’s going to start divorce proceedings?’ My stomach churned at the thought of another nail in the coffin if he divorced me rather than the other way round.

  ‘I don’t think he’d do that, Elise. He knows it’s your place to initiate things.’

  ‘Maybe he wants to discuss the house,’ I said. ‘Maybe he wants to put it on the market. It’s a family home. It’s far too big for just him. Unless he wants Rob to…’ I couldn’t bear the thought of Gary having his happily ever after with someone else in the house we chose, surrounded by our belongings. It was abundantly clear now that we hadn’t been heading for our own happily ever after, but that didn’t stop it hurting that he might be heading for his while I still struggled to get over our marriage being a lie.

  Kay put her fork down and smiled reassuringly. ‘I’m sure it’s not that, sweetheart. I don’t think Gary would move Rob in. Not yet. It’s too soon. He’ll know that. Although you do know it may happen one day, don’t you?’

  I picked up my fork again and stabbed at a piece of mushroom. ‘I know. It’s just not a reality with which I thought I’d be faced.’

  ‘I’m sure it will be about selling the house,’ Kay said. ‘What else could it be?’

  ‘Li!’ Gary held out his arms to give me a hug, but I stepped backwards.

  ‘I’d prefer if you called me Elise from now on.’

  ‘Oh. Okay. I’m glad you came, Li… Elise. Come in. Ignore the mess.’

  I stepped into the hall. I frowned at the unprecedented sight of several pairs of shoes and trainers discarded on the floor instead of neatly stacked on the shoe-rack. He must be really struggling if he’d veered from his neat-freak status. The thought gave me a little comfort and satisfaction, and then I felt guilty for being so mean.

  ‘Lounge or kitchen?’ he asked.

  ‘Kitchen.’

  ‘It’s a bit messy too. Sorry.’

  I gasped. Talk about an understatement! There couldn’t have been any glasses, plates, or mugs left in the cupboards; they were all piled high on the worktops. Pans soaking in some very dubious-coloured water filled the sink. Empty yogurt pots, spilled cereal, breadcrumbs, and banana peels were strewn everywhere, and an obnoxious smell emanated from the direction of the overflowing bin.

  ‘It’s bad isn’t it?’ he said. ‘Sorry.’

  I nodded. ‘Gary, I…’ I genuinely didn’t know what to say. I looked at his face and, although I longed to feel hate and anger still, my heart went out to him instead. He clearly hadn’t shaved for a couple of weeks. He often sported stubble, but this was on its way to a full beard. The dark rings under his eyes, the hollow cheeks, and the haunted eyes reminded me of how I’d looked just before I moved into Kay’s.

  ‘I’m no good without you, Li,’ he whispered. He reached out towards me, but it felt far too intimate. I stepped back and collided with the fridge, knocking some magnets to the floor. I quickly bent down to retrieve them.

  ‘Leave them,’ he said. ‘Look at me, Li.’

  ‘It’s Elise. You really should load the dishwasher after each meal, you know.’ I continued to pick up the magnets. ‘It takes seconds, but if you pile stuff up like this, it becomes a mammoth task. And there’s a funny smell coming fro—’

  ‘Li! Stop!’

  I stood up and stuck the magnets back on the fridge, taking pains to get them straight.

  ‘Li! Please stop that and look at me.’

  My heart raced as I turned around slowly and raised my gaze to meet his. ‘IT’S ELISE!’

  ‘I miss you,’ he said. ‘I’m lost without you.’ His dark eyes, so full of pain, filled with tears and the next moment he was sobbing. I’d only seen Gary cry twice before: when his dad died then when he’d received a card from Lloyd and Zoe congratulating him on becoming a qualified GP, and enclosing a photograph of the four-year-old nephew and two-year-old niece he hadn’t known existed.

  My hands twitched. I didn’t want to touch him, but every instinct in me screamed out to comfort him. I couldn’t just stand helplessly by the fridge and let him cry. ‘Come here. It’ll be alright.’ As I held Gary tightly, I willed myself not to start crying too. He’d said he was lost without me. What did that mean? Surely there was no going back. No matter how much it hurt both of us, we were better off apart. We had to be. Living a lie wasn’t healthy for either of us.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Elise,’ he whispered into my hair, still clinging onto me.

  ‘It’s okay. We’ll get through this.’ I didn’t want him to hold me anymore. It didn’t feel right. I steered him towards one of the chairs. Thankfully, he didn’t resist. ‘You said you needed to talk and it was urgent,’ I prompted.

  Gary sat back against his chair and wiped his eyes, then he turned to look at me. ‘You look really well.’

  I shrugged. ‘Thank you. And…?’

  ‘And I like your hair like that.’

  I self-consciously reached up to my hair, which I’d let Kay straighten for me for the first time ever when I’d got in from school. I hoped he didn’t think I’d done it for his benefit. ‘Thank you again, but I wasn’t fishing for another compliment. I meant “and” as in complimenting me wasn’t the reason you wanted to see me. Why am I here?’ I sat down again, waiting for his answer.

  He stared at me as he twiddled with his earlobe. I held my breath while the kitchen clock ticked, the fridge-freezer hummed, and my heart hammered. What was he building up to? It was going to be about Rob moving in, wasn’t it? I tried to mentally prepare myself not to flinch, cry, or scream.

  ‘I’m struggling, Elise. Will you move back in?’ He reached for my hand, but I pulled it away.

  ‘I’ll give you anything you want,’ he said. ‘We can even have a baby if that’s what you really want. We can act like a normal family.’

  Oh my goodness! He’d just offered me the one thing I desperately wanted. But now, instead of biting his hand off at the suggestion, I found myself recoiling at it. Was it the use of the word “act”? Act like a normal family as opposed to be a normal family?

  At my session with Jem on Sunday, I’d admitted I still wanted Gary’s baby and he’d challenged me on why I needed a man — particularly Gary — to fulfil my dreams of motherhood. He’d really pushed until I’d
broken down in tears and cried, ‘Because one parent isn’t enough. You need two for when one of them can’t cope with life anymore and finds the answer at the bottom of a bottle of gin.’ ‘You’re not like your mother,’ Jem had assured me. ‘You’ll never be like her.’

  I stared at Gary as my body stiffened and my nails dug into my palms. Jem had insisted that a baby with Gary wasn’t the way forward and I hadn’t wanted to hear it, but, now that the offer was on the table, I realised he’d been right. He was always right.

  ‘Are you still seeing Rob?’ I asked.

  With his eyes down, he nodded. ‘He thinks I’m still in love with you. We’ve had a huge argument about it.’

  ‘And are you?’

  ‘No… yes… I don’t know.’

  I swallowed hard on the lump in my throat. What a mess! ‘You don’t love me, Gary. I’m not going to debate whether you ever did, but you definitely don’t love me now. Not in that way. You do love Rob, though, and I think you’ve panicked about what this means after years of lying to yourself and everyone you know. Getting back with me and having a baby would be like putting a sticking plaster on a broken leg; ineffective in solving or covering up the real problem.’ I reached for my bag and stood up. ‘I realise this is hard for you too, Gary. You’ve been fighting who you are for sixteen or seventeen years. I can’t imagine what that must feel like, but you’ve found the person with whom you want to be; the person with whom you can be you. Why not just accept that and stop fighting against who you really are? I know you’re worried about keeping up appearances and I’d be lying if I said there won’t be some gossip, but it will mainly be because people will be surprised at the revelation given how long we’ve been together, rather than because they’re being malicious. If you’ve lived a lie and fought against who you are for more than half your life, you must be made of pretty strong stuff, so you can ride out whatever storm hits you when this all comes out.’