I tried hard to supress the smile that twitched at the side of my mouth.
“Way to go, Gracie,” Carla said as she caught up with us.
“We have a slut on the premises? Where? I haven’t seen one of those for years,” Margie said as she pulled her glasses down from her eyes and peered at the woman clinging to Michael’s arm.
At that point, we laughed. Four ladies, at what should have been the most inappropriate time and place, laughed. My dad would have loved that. The tart had the grace to keep her mouth shut and Michael looked embarrassed.
Hell, yeah! That’s gutter talk at it’s best, I thought.
The pub was full to the brim with mourners and locals who wanted to pay their respects. The landlord had done us proud. He’d laid a table full of good old-fashioned East End food. There were bowls of jellied eels, cockles, prawns, and whelks. My stomach recoiled at the eels and whelks, but I remembered with fondness sitting outside a pub on a Sunday afternoon with a bag of Salt ‘n’ Shake crisps, a bottle of Coke, and a tub of cockles.
My hand was sore with the amount of times it was shaken, my shoulders bruised from all the hugs, and my cheek tacky from the kisses. So many people had come to pay their respects and I was pleased for my mum. I’d lost Carla and her parents among the throng of people; they had all come from the same circle of friends. I had a glass of warm cheap white wine shoved in my hand from a man probably not older than myself. He told me a story of being my dad’s apprentice way back. When the docks had closed, engineering had been the next step on dad’s career path. In fact, engineering was where he’d stayed until retirement.
I moved around the room accepting hugs and listening to stories, many of which I knew by heart. The times when dad and his friends had stolen lead from the church roof and got caught, they’d run but were more scared of getting caught by the local priest than the police. The time when, unloading a boat of bananas, they’d found tarantulas and boxed one up to leave in the boss’s cabin. The time when they ‘found’ a refrigerated lorry of meat that had then been distributed to all the occupants of our street, the elderly and the ones with children first. My dad had a past, a colourful one, and I loved to listen to those stories.
I felt a hand rub my back. “How are you coping?” Carla asked.
I sighed. “I think today will hit tomorrow. I’m exhausted, to be honest. I think mum is too. It might be time to take her home.”
“I have the car ready and waiting. I’m coming back to yours.”
“I’d like that.”
“Let’s say our goodbyes, shall we?”
It took a half hour before we finally managed to leave the pub. Mum slumped into the back of the car with Margie, who had taken two bottles of wine from the bar.
“How are the kids getting home?” mum asked.
“Ben will drop Casey off to Michael’s parents. One of his friends dropped his car over.”
I heard a huff from the rear seat. “Shame she couldn’t spend the evening with you,” Margie said.
I bristled until I caught a glance from Carla. Margie was right, of course, but I didn’t like anyone criticising my children. We dropped mum and Margie off home before heading back to the house.
“I need to get out of these clothes,” I said as I immediately climbed the stairs.
“Same. We’ll take Dini for a walk, get some fresh air,” Carla said as she followed me.
I sat on my bed for a while, thinking. I took the angel from my bag and hung her on the bedpost, letting my fingers trail over the filigree and the silk ribbon that allowed her to hang next to my pillow.
“It’s so beautiful,” I heard. Carla was standing at my door.
“It is.”
“Want to tell me about it?” She sat on my bed.
“I’m sorry. I’ve kept him a secret from you. I know why. I guessed in the beginning I was doing something wrong, and I thought that might upset you.”
“What were you doing?”
“I was having an affair, I think. A virtual affair.”
She looked at me, her brow furrowed. “A virtual affair?”
“Emails mainly, although now we talk on the phone. He doesn’t know how I feel about him; I don’t think I’d ever tell him. I’m not sure he sees me as anything more than just a friend, and that hurts.”
“Oh, Jayne.” She placed her arm around my shoulder. “Let’s take a walk and you can start at the beginning.”
I stood and unzipped the dress, letting it fall in a heap on the floor. I didn’t care to pick it up. I pulled on some jeans and a light sweater, grabbed my walking boots and we headed downstairs.
Dini had been locked in the kitchen; the back of the door was scratched where he had shown his displeasure.
“Hey, baby. How about a walk?” I said. He ran to the back door with his tail wagging.
As we walked, I talked. I told Carla everything. How I felt about Stefan, even on our holiday, the letter he’d sent not wanting anymore contact, to the phone call the previous evening. She stayed silent the whole time, listening. After an hour, we had walked our circuit and had arrived back at my garden. I lifted an upturned flowerpot from the top of the garden table and pulled out my cigarettes.
“I think we need wine,” she said.
As I smoked, she retrieved a bottle from the fridge and two glasses.
“I don’t know what to say. I don’t believe you were having an ‘affair’ as such. You needed something, someone, and Stefan was your escape. I’m hurt, of course, that you didn’t confide in me.”
“I’m sorry. I thought you’d disapprove. I know I went totally over the top in the beginning, and it was as if someone else took over me, someone else wrote the flirty emails. But it made me feel good about myself, especially when he responded.”
“Please tell me Scarlet didn’t make an appearance,” she said as she poured the wine and giggled.
“She did. It was fun, for a while.”
“Oh, God. She must have terrified the poor guy.”
When we had been teenagers I’d wanted to change my name to Scarlet. For a while it was the only name I responded to. My parents thought it was a phase and humoured me. Carla thought it hilarious. No one really understood what it meant though. I was shy, geeky with a much prettier friend, a more popular friend. Being Scarlet meant I could pretend, I could act and be someone totally different.
“I did notice all the bottles of wine,” Carla added quietly.
Somewhere in my twenties Scarlet had disappeared, only to be replaced by wine. I hadn’t realised at first. The confidence, the snarky comments, came from one too many glasses of wine. I didn’t have a drinking habit; I just used it as a confidence booster. In later years, whenever I was tipsy, Carla would joke that Scarlet had appeared.
“So what now?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I need to thank him for the angel. I guess we just carry on being friends. I’d love for it to be more but that’s not possible.”
I watched her close her eyes and lean back in the chair, catching the last of the day’s rays.
“I’m worried for you. You need to move on with your life, get the divorce. I’d love nothing more than for you to find a really nice man, but a real one, not a virtual one.”
We sat and drank, chatted about old times until the sun set.
“You thank Stefan, tell him I said hi, and I’ll grill some steaks. We need to eat,” Carla said as we made our way indoors.
I opened my laptop and brought up my email account.
To: Stefan
From: Jayne
Date: 25 August 2014
Subject: Thank you
Oh, Stefan, thank you so much for the angel. I can’t tell you how much I needed that today. She’s hanging on my bed, next to my pillow, and I’ll treasure her, always. Carla is here with me. She’s cooking dinner and said to say hi. It was a good day, as funerals go, I guess. I’m glad I’m not on my own tonight though. I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to shut my eyes beca
use I’m scared I’ll see that coffin and the flowers. I don’t want to think about him in that casket.
Ben gave a speech; it was beautiful. He talked about all the things he loved about his grandad. All the stories my dad had told me as a child, he’d then told my children. He cried and it broke my heart to see my boy standing there with tears running down his face.
Michael showed up, with his girlfriend, the one he’s had for years. Casey stood with them. That hurt. I’m not sure you want to hear all this crap. I’m rambling, I guess. I’m sorry.
I just wanted to thank you. You don’t know what that meant.
J xx
I pressed send and closed the laptop lid. A tissue was handed to me and I hadn’t realised I had been crying.
“Tell him,” Carla whispered.
“I can’t.”
“What have you got to lose?”
“His friendship. If I can’t have him, then at least I still have his friendship.”
She took the laptop from the table and replaced it with a plate. She’d grilled steaks and made a salad. We raised a glass of wine to each other.
“To your dad, to fucked up lives and arsehole husbands.”
Carla could always, no matter what the situation, bring a smile to my face. We clinked glasses. We ate and drank then fell into bed, tipsy.
I was first up the following morning and, surprisingly, without a headache. I let the dog out, made tea, then called my mum. We spoke for an hour with Margie continually interrupting before Carla made her appearance.
“Ouch, Paracetamol?” she said. I pointed to a cupboard.
I made her a tea and we settled at the table. “Was that your mum? How was she?”
I recounted the conversation. Mum was keen to head to Scotland with Margie but worried about leaving me. I’d told her many times I thought it a good idea. A change of scenery would give her a boost. And I know dad would have approved. I’d even offered to pop over and help her pack.
“I’ll run them to the airport. I doubt your car would make it that far,” Carla said.
“It does need a service, and its MOT is due soon. I don’t think it will pass.”
“Get rid of it, buy a new one.”
“I don’t have the money for a new car. I need to find a job. Michael deposits enough money in the account for the mortgage and the bills with a little over for food.”
“While he’s living the highlife, earning his millions with the slut.”
“I doubt he earns that much,” I said.
“Wanna bet? He earns more than Charles, and with bonuses he wasn’t far off that figure.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“No. Have you any idea what Michael earns?”
“No. We had a joint account but that was for household expenses. He had a separate account for his salary.”
“Clever fucker, if you ask me.”
“This house is in his name. Maybe I do need to speak to your solicitor.”
“You do. I’ll make an appointment.”
Carla left an hour or so later. She hadn’t wanted to but I wanted some time alone. I wanted to reflect and wallow in my sadness without having to pretend or chat or smile.
My phone indicated I’d received an email. My heart leapt as I opened the laptop and saw that Stefan had replied.
To: Jayne
From: Stefan
Date: 26 August 2014
Subject: You’re welcome
I’m glad she arrived in time. I worried she wouldn’t have. It took me months to track down that artist. I’m pleased you love her. Don’t be scared to sleep, not now that there is a little piece of Denmark by your pillow and if you ever can’t, ring me.
Your ex is a douche. I’m glad I wasn’t there, I would have punched the fucker, sorry.
And Ben sounds just like his mother, kind and considerate. I’d like to meet him one day.
S xx
I read, and, as usual, read again. He was right—there was a little piece of Denmark by my pillow and that thought soothed me.
I smiled at the very American ‘douche’ comment but it was the ‘…meet him one day’ that had me flustered. Did he mean that? Or was he just being kind?
To: Stefan
From: Jayne
Date: 26 August 2014
Subject: Douche??
Your comment made me smile, and it’s nice to know I have a knight in shining armour ready to defend me. Thank you.
And I’d like for you to meet Ben too.
I look forward to falling asleep with a little piece of Denmark beside me.
J xx
I spent the day curled up on the sofa reading a book and taking calls. I’d tried to call Casey, I wanted to check on her. But as usual, her phone went to voicemail. Ben had wanted to visit but I wanted some time on my own. Mum had rung to let me know she had arranged transport to the airport with Carla and would be leaving in the morning. I made arrangements to pop over before they left to see her off.
Two days later, two days of not hearing from Casey, she finally texted. I was upset that she hadn’t taken the time to call, and her message was just to tell me that she was heading to London with Michael, she would catch up with me at some point over the next month. I couldn’t reply. Something had changed between us, and I suspected Michael was the cause of that.
I decided to look at the cottage in Cornwall, initially just to cheer myself up a little. Carla needed to visit her parents for a few days. She hadn’t wanted to, she wanted to be close to me, but they were getting on and the death of my dad had her worried that she didn’t see hers enough.
I brought up the details that I’d saved and looked through the photos. It looked a little run down but in a wonderful location. It was small, just the two bedrooms, and full of character. Before I’d realised, I found myself on the availability page. The cottage was booked out for most of the year, but there were two weeks available. The first was the following week and the second in November. I called the agent to be told the owners were using the cottage over the summer to do some modernisation. If I was interested in the first week, it would be discounted. Without thinking, I booked it. I sweated as I handed over Michael’s credit card details, wondering if he’d cut me off from it.
“That’s wonderful, Miss Adams. All booked and paid for. You’ll receive an email with instructions and where to find the key,” I was told.
I disconnected the call, mildly shocked that I had, for the first time ever, booked a holiday just for myself. Michael would probably throw a fit, but I hoped by the time he realised, I’d have visited and been home.
To: Stefan
From: Jayne
Date: 29 August 2014
Subject: Cornwall!
I just book myself a week in that cottage I told you about. They have two weeks available, one for next week and one in November. I chose next week! I can’t believe I’ve done that; I’ve never been away by myself before. I’m panicking because I don’t know if my car will make it that far but I’m excited as well.
J xx
I rang Ben; he’d know where I could get a cheap car service. He was excited for me, and although it felt strange to laugh so soon after my dad’s funeral, I knew he’d be pleased for me. Ben offered to lend me his car, it was much more reliable that mine. He also offered to print off a map.
To: Jayne
From: Stefan
Date: 29 August 2014
Subject: Worried!
Sounds exciting. :) Please do something with the car. I can send some money over for the service. I don’t like the thought of you driving a dangerous vehicle.
S xx
To: Stefan
From: Jayne
Date: 29 August 2014
Subject: Oh no!
Thank you, that’s really kind of you, but no. I have it sorted. Ben is going to lend me his car. And as for driving something dangerous… you’re the one with a motorbike!
J xx
His offer to help overwhelmed me a little
; it brought tears to my eyes. There was no way I would accept.
The week dragged on, I’d seen mum off. She was upset to leave me behind but happy that I’d booked a holiday. We needed to do something after the funeral. There had been lots of promises of help and companionship, none of it had materialised. As soon as the wake had finished, other than a few close friends, mum hadn’t heard from anyone and that included Casey.
The night before my trip I decided to send Casey an email. There was no point in leaving yet another message, and I’m sure the last time I’d spoken to her, her excuse of a poor signal to cut short our conversation was a lie.
To: Casey
From: Mum
Date: 4 September 2014
Subject: Please call
Hi, Casey, I’m emailing because I can’t seem to get you on the phone. Nan has a mobile, Ben has the number, it might be nice if you could take a moment to phone her, ask her how she’s doing. You haven’t seen nor spoken to her since grandad’s funeral. I know it may be difficult for you but one day, it will be her funeral you’re at. Harsh, I know, and I’m sorry. It’s not nice having to make excuses as to why you’ve disappeared without a word. :(
I’m off for a break to Cornwall tomorrow. I’ll have my phone and I’m taking the laptop. There’s Wi-Fi in the cottage, so if want to call me, I’ll be happy to hear from you.
Please, give nan a call. Just a short conversation. She’d love to hear from you.
I love you. Mum xx
I had no idea when Casey would receive that email. I knew she was busy but she’d finished her last year at university. She had partied all summer, and I assumed Michael was sorting an internship for her somewhere. I prayed it was not in Japan. Initially the plan was that she’d join his company in London, but since he’d left, and possibly taken clients with him, I doubted she would be welcomed.
I’d given up wondering why my daughter was so distant. She’d grown, and I hated to acknowledge it, into a selfish young lady—that saddened me. I’d spent hours wondering where I’d gone wrong as a mother.
Ben brought the car round early. He spent ages showing me how to turn on the lights, the wipers, and all the things I knew perfectly well how to operate. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him I’d been driving since before he was born. He helped me load the dog and my bags in the car, gave me the map and a hug, and then I was off.
A Virtual Affair Page 12
