“Oh yeah, whereabouts?”
I told him the street name and he nodded. “Not far from your studio.”
“Exactly, it’s perfect.”
“Nice inside?”
“Yes, it’s lovely.”
He nodded.
“I’m glad you’re happy with it.”
“Yeah, it’s ideal for me really.”
“Good, I’m pleased for you.”
“Thanks.”
“So…”
“I’m going to move in next weekend.”
“Right, okay.”
“So we need to sort out all our stuff.”
“Yes.”
I looked at his cheerless eyes and a sudden sadness flooded me. Was this what it’d come to – dividing up a bunch of material possessions?
“I don’t want much really,” I told him quickly. “Just the personal bits, maybe the sofas and the spare bed, you can keep the rest if you like?”
“I’ll take the spare bed, you take the expensive one.”
“Okay, if you don’t mind.”
“Well, I do mind, of course. I mind all of it. I want you to come back, but I can’t have that can I?”
I looked at him and didn’t know what to say. I could get up right now and put my arms around him and tell him I’d move back in. But how could I know if I really wanted to, or if I was just dodging being alone again? And where would we go from here?
Yet, looking at the face I fell in love with, I couldn’t completely dismiss the idea.
“No, Ross, I’m not coming back…”
I was going to add a ‘but’, but I hesitated, unsure how to continue.
He sighed. “Worth a shot. If you ever want to, I don’t know, go on a date, or something, start back at the very beginning, then call me, okay?”
I considered for a second what I’d think of him if we met now, and he asked me on a date. I’d still be attracted to him and I’d probably say yes. So what was stopping me? How could I trust a stranger any more than him anyway?
“How about when I’m settled, we get together for a drink?”
His face lit up into that familiar big grin. “That’d be great! But you could just move back in. I’ll sleep in the spare room.”
“No, I need to do this Ross. I need to be on my own for a bit. And I don’t want you to get your hopes up. I’m just saying, we could try. If you just give me maybe a few weeks to be on my own, and then maybe we’ll go for a drink and see if starting over is a possibility. But no promises.”
He was still smiling and nodding. He went to take my hands but I pulled away.
“Not yet,” I told him, not wanting to back down on my resolve.
“Okay, okay.” He sat back, smiled and picked up his tea. I did the same. “So are you still happy to help me move?”
He agreed and we talked about the logistics for a while. He didn’t mind what I took so I said I’d take the television from the bedroom and a few lamps and other small kitchen items. He said he’d go sofa shopping and I said I’d hire a van. I felt awkward and uncomfortable, but it went better than I expected.
As I got up to leave, he gave me a quick hug and he smelled good.
“I miss you,” he said into my hair.
“I miss you, too,” I admitted.
“Then stay!” he said, pulling away but holding me close to him with his hands on my shoulders.
I looked up at him and for a split second, I thought about kissing him and letting all this upheaval and hurt and scary independence stuff drift away. We could go back to how it was. But I knew it wasn’t that easy. And the more I thought about her, the more I wanted to meet Independent Jenny and see how she got on.
“Please Ross, I need some space”
“I’m sorry. Well, just so you know, while you’re getting your space, I’ll be the best friend you ever had. And I’ll be getting some help – I’ve been seeing this great therapist. Maybe if things do go well, and we start dating, we could go and see her together? She’s really good.”
“That all sounds good, but just give me time, don’t rush me.”
“I won’t, I promise.”
He looked so happy I was worried I’d got his hopes up too high, but something about keeping it open and the possibility that there was an optimistic future out there for us was uplifting and I felt happier than I had done for a while.
I gave him a very quick hug goodbye and walked hurriedly back to Shane’s. It’d been almost two weeks since I’d told Aiden it was all off, and I hadn’t seen him since. Shane and Andrew were being kind and welcoming but it was time to finally sort my life out.
Chapter Forty-Seven
I got in and prepared a lasagne; Shane and Andrew wouldn’t charge me rent so I was trying to cook and clean for them as much as possible. Then I went and sat on the sofa with Wentworth and searched online for all the things I’d need for my new place. Ross had never been particularly fussy but it was nice to pick out furniture and appliances without having to consider anyone else’s opinion.
The next week flew by; I’d done a few school photo shoots and I had a lot to sort through, plus a few weddings from the end of the season. I worked hard, met with bronzed couples who’d returned from their honeymoons, drank coffee in Shane’s cafe and before I knew it, I was moving into my new flat.
“Blimey Jen, you’ve got a lot of stuff,” Andrew told me, carrying yet another box from my car to the front door.
“We’re nearly done,” I told him, grateful for the help. I lifted up a black bag full of clothes and followed him in. As I got to the front door I glanced back and saw Shane and Ross heave the sofa out of the van and bring it towards me. I dumped my clothes in the bedroom and went in to see them set it down gently in the living room, opposite the television unit I’d picked up and put together all by myself the night before. I was quite proud of my DIY talents. Who needed a husband? Not me.
But then Ross looked at me sadly and said, “Well I guess I’ll leave you to it,” and I almost grabbed him and asked him to stay with me, just for the first night.
“Thanks for helping,” I said, giving him a quick hug.
“It’s the least I could do isn’t it?” he said sadly. I turned away, unable to look him in the eye. “I guess I’ll be going then.”
“Thank you, again.”
“No worries.”
“I’ll see you soon?” I asked.
“I’d like that. How about I leave you to settle in and then we go for a drink? Maybe dinner?”
“I’ll call you when I’m ready.”
He squeezed my arm and I glanced at him. His eyes were watery. I smiled and he smiled back, then he turned and left. I shut the front door and turned back to face my chaotic flat; boxes and black bin bags everywhere.
“All right?” Shane asked. I nodded and bit my lip.
He gave me a quick hug. “Come on,” he said, “we’ll help you unpack.”
My two saviours continued working until it started getting dark, putting cutlery in drawers, making up my bed, lining books on shelves. Wentworth roamed from room to room, a little unsettled, before finally settling on the familiar sofa and snoozing while we moved around him.
“This place is perfect,” Andrew told me when we finally sat down. Shane had bought some champagne to celebrate and I served them each a full mug. Ross had kept all the glasses.
“To Independent Jenny!” Shane raised his mug and we chinked all three together.
“Thank you both so much for everything,” I told them. “And not just today but everything since Ross and I split up. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”
“You’re stronger than you think, Jen,” Shane told me. I wasn’t sure where he got that notion from but I was too tired to argue.
We ordered a pizza and they stayed with me until late, for which I was grateful. When the time eventually came for them to leave they didn’t make a big deal of it, just gave me a quick kiss and a hug and then they were on their way, leaving me and Went
worth alone.
I was surprisingly calm, that night. I lay in bed, my fingers playing with the long fur on Wentworth’s tail, thinking about all that had happened. I hadn’t heard from Will since that last email, and although it hurt, I genuinely hoped he was happy and that he and Mandy had worked it out.
Okay, who was I kidding? I didn’t want him to be with her, I wanted him to be with me. But seeing as he was married and four hundred miles away, I didn’t know how that could ever happen. So I was going to stop thinking about him.
That was easier said than done, but I did manage to carry on with life without being too depressed. The first few weeks in the flat were tough, but I managed okay. Shane showed me how to change a light bulb and, so far, I hadn’t encountered any spiders. I managed to put together a nest of tables, and Sadie came to visit one weekend when we successfully installed a wardrobe. She slept on my sofa that night and we spent the rest of the weekend drinking wine, chatting to Mum and watching girly movies.
Ross texted me a few times, and I sent friendly replies but asked that we hold off on the whole drinks/dinner/date thing. I was enjoying being on my own, and although I missed him, I didn’t want to see him until I felt really settled, for fear of rushing back to him and making a mistake.
I got into a nice routine during the weekdays. I kept as busy as I could with work during the day and went out walking with Shane and the dogs in the early evenings. I painted my bedroom and I bought a few plants for my little garden.
I even managed to feel genuine happiness again for the couples I photographed on their wedding days, and actually enjoy all the big smiles, big dresses, big cakes. I googled the latest stats and it turned out that 42% of marriages ended in divorce, so that meant approximately six in every ten weddings I photographed resulted in the couple really staying together until ‘death do us part’. That was more than half, and that was enough to make me ensure they had photos to relive that day when they made that commitment to each other.
So I was alright on my own, and now couldn’t fathom why I’d been so scared before, or why my mum had never really tried it. I was lonely at times, but mostly I was reasonably cheerful until bedtime. That was when I started to feel a little low. I’d lie under the duvet thinking about Will, wishing I was back at Elgol, leaning against him while our dogs ran in and out of the water.
Chapter Forty-Eight
“I think you should go on a few dates,” said Andrew as I opened our second bottle of red wine. He and Shane had come round for a Chinese take away and we were now discussing my next step, now that I was established in my flat as an independent woman. Or spinster. At least I didn’t have any cats yet. Although crazy dog-lady sounded even worse.
“I don’t know about that,” I told him. “I’m healing.”
“No, you’re not, you’re wallowing.”
He turned to Shane who was stroking his beard and thinking.
“Yeah, he’s right,” he said, nodding his head.
“You don’t have to go out and find your next husband, but why not just have a bit of fun? Realise there are other nice men out there. Live the single life.”
“Ross wants to take me on a date,” I told them.
“Ross can wait. It’s about time you met some other men. See what’s out there. If you don’t like what’s out there, you can know for sure he’s worth another shot,” Andrew said, nudging Shane, who nodded his agreement.
“I guess I’ve never really dated before. It might be fun.”
Or hideously embarrassing and soul-destroying, enough to obliterate the little bit of self-esteem I had. But after several glasses of wine, lots of things seem fun. So, by the time we’d moved to our fourth bottle, giddy as my Aunt Nora after several sherries at Christmas, we got out my laptop, created an online dating profile and sat back to wait for the offers to flood in.
A week later, I was getting ready for my first date. So far, I’d exchanged a few texts with Howard, who looked quite like Matthew McConaughey in his online dating profile. I thought about Hayley while putting my make-up on and wished I could call her for advice about what to wear. She’d probably come over, pull everything out of my wardrobe, then go home and fetch me one of her designer dresses. Which would be a little too tight for me, but make me feel special, sexy, confident … Seeing as she wasn’t even returning my text messages and Facebook pokes, let alone be available for fashion advice, I was on my own.
I pulled out a blue dress I’d bought for Hayley’s parent’s wedding anniversary a few years back. It had a low front and I remember when we were shopping she’d insisted I buy a push-up bra at the same time to plunge my cleavage. I’d not worn it since. I wondered if it still fit; there was only one way to find out. I found the bra and pulled the dress on. To my utter surprise, it was a bit loose. When I thought about it, despite the free muffins and cookies at Shane’s, I hadn’t been eating as many big portions since I stopped living with Ross, a.k.a. the human dustbin. Plus, I’d been walking more than ever before.
More than satisfied with my outfit, I put on a little make-up, splashed myself with my favourite perfume, found some shoes I might just about manage to walk in, fluffed up my hair and went out to my car. I didn’t want to get drunk on a first date, so driving would be a good excuse. I also didn’t want to fork out for a taxi unless I was pretty sure the guy was worth it. I found a parking spot and walked down to the Italian restaurant we’d agreed to meet at. A man was standing outside and I realised he’d put the best photo of him ever taken on the dating site. But, to be fair, who wouldn’t? He did have a slight air of Matthew McConaughey about him, with the same shaggy curly hair, he was just a much less cute version with a Cornish accent. Still, never one to judge on appearance only, I was prepared to get to know him.
“Jenny?” he asked as I approached him.
“Yes, you must be Howard?”
“Indeed I am! You look lovely,” he said, looking at my dress and quickly back to my eyes. At least he was conscious of not staring at my chest, unlike the perv I’d just walked past on my way here.
“Thank you,” I said, glad he thought so and hoping I wasn’t as different to my photo as he was.
We went inside and sat at our table. An awkward silence descended while we browsed the menu. I opted for soup and salad, figuring it’d keep me fitting in this dress for the next date I’d go on; I already couldn’t see this one progressing to a second date.
I watched Howard telling the waiter what he wanted and decided I was being unfair. I had to give the guy a chance.
“So, Jenny. You’re a photographer?”
“Yes. Weddings mostly. A bit of portrait photography.”
“And what do you like to do in your spare time?”
“Walking. I love to walk, I’ve got a dog.”
“I had a dog once.”
“Oh yes?”
“Yes. He died.”
“Oh, that’s really sad.”
I fiddled with my napkin. This was harder work than I’d expected.
“And what about you? What do you like to do in your spare time? Any hobbies?”
He flashed me a crooked smile. His teeth were less white than Matthew’s too, but I reminded myself that Matthew definitely wouldn’t be interested in me, plunge bra or no, whereas Howard appeared to be.
“I play ice hockey,” he told me, followed by an animated explanation of how he spent most weekends travelling around the country competing; about his skates, his team mates, the ice, the pucks, the competition, the venues, the hotels.
“Are you any good?” I asked, when I eventually got a chance to speak. The waiter bought our starters and I dug right in.
“I’m alright. Some of my friends are brilliant. I know a few guys who have played for Britain.”
“Wow, impressive.”
I wasn’t being sarcastic, either. It was nice to meet a man who had such a passion for something other than Playstation games (Ross) or staying in watching TV (Aiden), and I quite enjoyed listening to him
talking about how he had learned to skate as a kid, and so on.
Okay, I admit, by dessert it was getting a tad boring. But, he was quite charming and he did manage to ask me a few questions about Wentworth while I tucked into my honeycomb cheesecake. Which was the highlight of my evening; divine goodness on a plate.
“You should come and watch me tomorrow,” he said as the bill was put on the table. “I’ll get this.”
“Oh, thanks so much,” I said, relieved and pushing my feminist impulse to insist we go halves out of the window. I was on a tight budget these days.
“Watch you do what tomorrow?”
“Ice hockey of course. In Bristol. Bring a few friends.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, they never sell that many tickets, so you’ll be able to get them on the door.”
It could be fun and I was pretty sure I could drag Shane and Andrew along.
“Write down the details for me.”
I passed him a pen and a slip of paper from my bag and he scribbled what I needed to know.
“So you’ll come?”
“Maybe.”
“Great. Well, tonight has been fun.”
We got up to go and he helped me put on my coat.
“It has,” I said, thinking I’d give him at least two dates before I decided he wasn’t for me. I hadn’t exactly fallen in love with Will at first sight, had I? And then look what happened: I now thought about him night and day. So I should give Howard a chance. And myself a chance to get Will out of my head.
“You want to get a drink? Even just a coffee?”
“I’m shattered actually, do you mind if we don’t?”
He looked disappointed. “Of course.”
“I really enjoyed myself though,” I said, trying to reassure him. “I’d definitely like to go out again.”
“Great!” He smiled and we said our goodbyes on the street.
I walked back to my car, drove home, took my make-up off while thinking about ice hockey, and got into bed. The evening hadn’t been a total disaster; despite the fact that Howard preferred to talk about ice hockey than anything else. I’d made the first step towards moving my love life on, and that had to be a good thing.
Independent Jenny Page 21
