‘Right... something you’re not telling me?’ She raised an eyebrow. Her mother shrugged.
‘Only that I promise not to tell you “I told you so”,’ she shrugged.
Mollie thumped through to her room, collapsing on the bed, where the envelope simply had ‘M’ on the front. Her fingers trembled, those bitten nails with the nail polish almost completely scratched off, holding that letter. She turned it over and inside, there was a Post-it note. A simple, yellow Post-it note. He could find an envelope, but he couldn’t find a piece of paper. It was his writing, no doubt.
Simply, it said:
I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.
That was it. That was all she got? It couldn’t be right. It couldn’t be real.
Mollie felt the contents of her stomach threaten to make a break for it, and she swallowed desperately, trying to breathe. It had to be a joke, a mistake, something from her mum. He wouldn’t leave her. He’d gone off to his trip ready to return a dad, ready to say goodbye to that old life. He hadn’t lied. Why would he change his mind now? It had to be a trick, she couldn’t stop believing in him.
Mollie thundered downstairs, clutching the paper in her hand, staring at her mother.
‘What the fuck is this? What have you done?’
Linda shook her head, shrugging. ‘He dropped it off and left. That’s it.’
‘It doesn’t make sense! He said... why would he... I said I could do it alone and he wanted to be here, he WANTED to!’ Mollie felt herself vibrate with anger and panic, finding it hard to breathe, ‘Why, what’s changed?’
Linda sighed, standing up from the sofa slowly and walking over to her daughter. She put her cup of tea down on the table and reached out to Mollie.
She flinched, ‘What are you doing?’
‘Breathe,’ Linda rubbed slow circles on her back, ‘Nice deep breaths, in.... out...you’re having a panic attack, and that’s no good for that baby. Calm down. You can do this. If he didn’t want to be here, it’s better he leaves now.’
‘But... why? Why would he spend so much time convincing me he wanted this, only to change his mind?’ Mollie gasped, looking to her mother for an explanation.
Linda simply continued rubbing slow circles on her daughter’s back, and spoke softly, ‘Because maybe he really wanted to be a good guy, and then he realised that he wasn’t. He’s a boy, baby girl, boys... they take longer to grow up. That’s all. He’s just not ready to grow up.’
‘I... I can’t believe this.’
‘Believe it.’
Mollie suddenly launched herself at the phone, dialling his mobile number, pounding at the keys. It didn’t ring. This number is no longer in service.
She smashed the phone back on the receiver and tried again, this time his home number.
‘Hello?’
‘Mrs MacAllister? It’s Mollie, is Jamie there?’ she panted, clutching the phone.
There was a pause, ‘I’m sorry Mollie, Jamie’s gone.’
‘Gone? Where? Where has he gone?’
‘He found a university that would take him, even... after everything, and he’s gone.’ Veronica’s voice was quiet, but firm, ‘You have to let him go, Mollie. This is best for both of you. You have a whole life to lead. Don’t let this ruin both your lives. He wants to study, he wants to learn. You know how smart he is. Jamie deserves that life, doesn’t he? You wouldn’t want to ruin his chances, would you? This is what he needs to be happy. You want him to be happy, don’t you?’
Mollie’s voice wavered as the tears threatened. ‘Yes. I do. Did he say anything about me?’
‘He said he was sorry. And then he left,’ Veronica said simply, ‘I need to go now Mollie. Take care of yourself now, okay?’
‘But what about –’
Veronica MacAllister had already hung up. And Mollie had to accept the truth. She had been duped, just like they’d all said, and he was gone. He was always going to leave, just like they’d said. He was either a liar or a coward. And Mollie was a fool.
Chapter Eight
‘Drink, drink, drink!’ The chanting continued and Mollie rolled her eyes, downing the shot with the rest of the women at Chelsea’s hen party. Which, thankfully, was not as many horribly corporate wonder women as she had expected.
It had started out as a very civilised affair – tasty food and bottles of champagne, everyone talking about how they knew Chelsea. Some women from her early morning yoga class were there, talking about their spin classes, sipping at their drinks delicately, in fear of imbibing things that would ruin their detox. Then there were the work friends, with their really swishy hair and perfectly arched eyebrows. There was Celia, Kit’s younger sister, invited along even though she was so much younger than everyone there. And them. The two school friends, the trouble makers. Which, when Evie got a round of shots delivered to their booth, was actually a great asset to the party. Every hen do needs a trouble maker, and back in the day it would have been Chelsea herself.
A few hours later, after more than enough shots and dancing drunkenly in the club, Mollie realised that she’d missed this. She’d missed being in her twenties and dancing until the early morning, knowing she was going to feel terrible the next day. She wouldn’t want to do it every week, but damn it felt good to dance.
‘You’re having fun!’ Chelsea sang, grabbing her around the neck, her plastic tiara askew and her eye make-up smeared. Her red lipstick looked perfectly garish in the neon lights and Mollie pulled her in for a hug, squeezing her.
‘And you’re getting married!’ she sang back, dancing them both in a circle, arms around each other.
‘I’m just so glad you guys snuck back into my life!’ Chelsea cuddled her closer, throwing half her champagne on the ground as she gestured, ‘We owe Ruby so much!’
‘Hmmf! Maybe, or maybe she ruined my life! Who knows?’ Mollie frowned, so that Chelsea burst out laughing.
‘What?!’
‘Sorry,’ she snorted, ‘you just look so much like Ez when she’s been told off. Like “I’m better than this and you’ve really disappointed me, but I know this is something you have to figure out”. You know, grouchy!’
Chelsea cackled to herself and Mollie bit her lip, trying not to smile.
‘Where’s Ez anyway, Evelyn looking after her?’
Evelyn was their landlady at the Ruby Rooms, the person who had let the space to Ruby back when she’d used it as a studio. She’d immediately loved Esme, who stayed with her and curled up in the older lady’s library, happy to be fed tea and scones and any other tasty treats the woman could feed her. She’d become a good friend in the months they’d been setting up the space, and it helped that she knew everyone in media and the arts. The woman was a legend.
‘Nope, she’s with Jamie.’
‘Wow,’ Chelsea widened her eyes and tried to focus on her friend, dragging her over to two free barstools so that she didn’t have to shout any more, ‘So, he’s really getting to play daddy, huh?’
‘They wanted to get to know each other,’ Mollie slurred, shrugging her shoulders. ‘That’s his right.’
‘It’s not his right if he fucked off and left you.’
‘And if he didn’t? If Ruby and my mum lied to him like he says? I mean, Mum’s admitted it, I really have no reason to doubt what he says...’ Mollie sighed.
‘Except the note.’
‘The note.’
She knew she wasn’t going to let it go, no matter what. Whether he’d been tricked, whether he was an idiot, he still sent her that note saying he couldn’t do it. And now, he got to waltz in and demand that he could do it, could be there for her.
‘You know,’ Chelsea said softly, leaning her head on Mollie’s shoulder, ‘teenage boys are dumb. Like, Jay was the nicest of all of them, but he was still a teenage boy. Maybe get to know him as a grown man.’
‘You’re telling me to give him a chance? I thought you said it was all clearly bullshit?’ Mollie turned her head swiftly and Chelsea wobbled on the
chair a bit.
‘Babe, that’s how this works: I’m the cynic and Evie’s the aggressive one. We speak the truth. We need you to be the optimist, the way you were when we were kids, reminding us that everything wasn’t shit, that everything had a silver lining.’
‘I can’t be that person any more,’ Mollie shrugged, ‘Too much has happened.’
Chelsea shook her head, grinning at her friend, ‘You’re still that person Moll, no matter what you think. You are glass-half-fucking-full and you’re going to give that poor man a chance to explain about his note, and you’re going to admit that you still fancy the crap out of him, and, most importantly...’ she trailed off, laughing as she saw Celia and Evie spinning around in circles together on the dancefloor. ‘Most importantly, you’re gonna forget you’re a mama and dance your arse off tonight, lady. Come on!’
She dragged Mollie from the barstool and into the crowd, where she was embraced by Evie, and Celia squished them together so that she could take a picture, their sweaty, drunken faces side-by-side, grinning and pouting for the camera. It looked just like the pictures they used to take as teenagers, except there was one person missing.
Stumbling home with Evie, Mollie felt the cool air hit her. They thudded along slowly and Evie rolled her eyes, ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t rather get a cab? Or a bus! We could get a bus!’
‘It’s a fifteen minute walk, Eves!’ Mollie huffed, ‘And I need to sober up.’
‘You’re not the only one, did you hear Celia telling Chelsea that she fancied Tyler? Saw that coming.’
Mollie frowned, ‘Please tell me you didn’t give Celia alcohol, she doesn’t drink!’
‘Firstly, that’s naive. And she’ll be drinking when she goes off to university. Secondly, no I bloody well did not! She just said that it was worth saying, and Chelsea was so drunk she wouldn’t remember it.’
Mollie snorted, wrapping her coat around her, ‘Jokes on her, Chelsea’s memory, drunk or not, is unrelenting. Pretty sure she could still name everyone from our year at school, surnames and all.’
‘Well, that’s why she makes the big bucks and had that big fancy education,’ Evie grinned, slipping her arm through the crook of Mollie’s elbow. ‘So... tell me about Jamie.’
‘What about him?’
‘Haven’t you found out anything about him? What he does in the army, where he’s going next? If he’s dated anyone? What his favourite meal is, I don’t know, something! He’s a different person, you have to get to know him again.’ Evie rolled her eyes.
‘You sound like Chelsea.’
‘Well, we’re both incredibly smart. So... what do you know?’
‘Do I have to know anything?’
‘Well yeah, he’s gonna be around now, isn’t he? It makes sense to know each other. I mean, what happens if he starts dating someone, and it gets serious? Esme gets a stepmum. That’s your business. What if he wants to be around more? What if he wants to take her on holiday when she’s older? It’s all to do with you, Molls. You’ve got to ask these questions.’
‘You think he’s dating someone?’ Mollie asked, stopping suddenly and turning to Evie. ‘Why wouldn’t he mention that?’
‘I don’t think anything, babe, I’m just saying.’ Evie suddenly grinned, ‘You still like him! All these years you thought he’d abandoned you, and you still like him!’
‘I don’t–’
‘Liar! Mr Action Man turns up all tanned and rugged, with that love of books and desperate dedication to his daughter, how can you resist? Especially since you’ve been a nun since Esme was born.’
‘Hey!’ Mollie tore her arm away and started marching towards home, ‘I wasn’t a nun! Why is everyone obsessed with me dating? Why does everyone have to be in a couple? I’m happy!’
Evie blinked, ‘Don’t you miss sex? I mean, if the last time you had sex was when you were a teenager... I mean, you know it gets better right? Like much better...’
‘Evie... just... just shut up, okay? I love you, but shut up. Life is complicated.’
‘And passion is undeniable. If you still feel attracted to someone who had curtains and pimples at seventeen, someone who you remember as a kid pouring glue on your head... well, maybe you should see if the spark’s still there, babe. After all, if you managed to fancy someone through parachute pants and braces,’ Evie grinned, throwing her hands up. ‘The noughties were not kind to us.’
‘Very definition of improving with age,’ Mollie laughed.
‘So... Jamie’s improved with age too, right?’ Evie said in a teasing voice, nudging her friend, ‘Look, I promise I won’t tell, but at least admit it to yourself.’
‘He... has improved, yes. But also, he seems like a sadder version of himself.’
‘Well, that’s okay, so are you. Maybe you can make each other happy again.’
Mollie stopped and looked at her friend, her dark curly hair pulled up in two pigtails, her dark purple lipstick smudged from where she’d been kissing everyone on the cheek all night, glitter smeared on her cheeks.
‘Evie Rodriguez, that is the bloody cheesiest thing I have ever heard you say.’
‘Whatever,’ Evie grinned, throwing her hands up, ‘I’m in love, and our friend’s getting married, and I think you’re the best person I know. So make yourself happy, okay?’
***
When they stumbled through the red door of the studios, giggling to themselves about making toast and all the wonderful things they were going to put on it, they were faced with a strange image: Killian and Jamie, side by side on the sofa, asleep, a rugby game playing on the projector screen across the room. Killian was still holding a beer in his hands, his head tilting back uncomfortably on the top of the sofa.
‘Ahem?’ Evie tapped her foot and laughed, ‘Hello there?’
The two men blinked and moved a little, stirring as they looked at each other in confusion, and then at the women across the room. Killian snorted and grinned, Jamie shook his head.
‘You look like you had a good time,’ Killian got up and walked across the room to kiss Evie, ‘You’re covered in glitter, you mad woman.’
‘I’m mad and wonderful, and deserving of glitter,’ Evie grinned, splaying her hands wide.
‘And toast,’ Mollie nodded, marching into the kitchen.
She felt Evie follow her into the kitchen as she grabbed the bread from the cupboard and put a couple of slices in the toaster, ‘So, cheese, or jam, or Nutella?’
‘That doesn’t sound very heathy!’ Jamie’s voice said from behind her. It wasn’t Evie who had followed her, obviously. He was leaning on the doorframe, looking tired and sloppy, hands in his pockets. ‘Are there healthy options for hangover food?’
Mollie shook her head and snorted, ‘Chia seeds? Who the hell knows, I want toast! Where’d Evie go?’
‘Upstairs with Killian,’ Jamie shrugged, ‘You know, we were terrible guardians this evening and we ordered pizza, do you want some cold pizza?’
‘Please tell me there were vegetables on the pizza?’ Mollie leaned back against the kitchen counter, smiling tiredly at him. ‘Even if there weren’t, lie to me.’
‘All the vegetables, it was heaving with the weight of all the nutritional value, honestly!’ Jamie grinned at her, nodding at the sofa, ‘Come sit for a bit. Tell me about your night.’
Mollie nodded softly, following him to the sofa and collapsing into it with a soft thump.
‘So, not a party girl?’ Jamie grinned, tilting his body towards her, head resting on his hand as he leant on the back of the sofa.
‘Nu-uh.’ Mollie shook her head, pointing at herself, ‘Full time mama, no-time party girl.’
‘You’re telling me the events here don’t get a little crazy?’ His voice was soft and warm, and she felt herself relaxing into it. She could hear his smile.
‘Yeah, crazy in the “let’s eat a fuck tonne of cheese and drink too much wine whilst watching eighties movies” kind of way.’ Mollie snorted, ‘Not in the doing shot
s and getting covered in glitter way.’
‘Ah, there were shots.’ Jamie grinned at her, ‘Well then I definitely preferred my evening.’
She let her head flop to the side, looking at him, safe and warm and strong, his head tilted down towards her.
‘What did you do?’
‘Esme wanted to learn “army stuff” or so she said.’ he laughed softly, ‘So we did drills.’
‘My child offered to do physical fitness? She chose to do a military fitness workout?’
Jamie pulled at the neck of his dark t-shirt and pursed his lips, ‘Yeah, but then she said we’d worked so hard we definitely deserved pizza.’
‘Ah, there it is,’ she grinned.
Jamie smiled at her, those light eyes twinkling a little as he focused on her, ‘Tell me about you, Molls. We’ve spoken about Esme, how you’ve raised her, what she’s like, what she loves. Tell me about you.’
Mollie shook her head, the smile falling from her face, ‘I don’t know that there is that much to say any more. I stayed in Badgeley, I was a mum. I worked at Greggs. I baked at home. Then Ruby died and we moved here, and I set up my business. And now life is happening.’
‘You make it sound simple,’ Jamie sighed, ‘I bet it was anything but simple.’
‘No, but I can’t talk about any of that without it sounding like I’m blaming you,’ Mollie shrugged, a drunken smile on her face as she looked up at him, ‘And I don’t want to blame you. I just want to have a real conversation with you.’
‘I want to have a real conversation with you. Is your favourite movie still The Breakfast Club?’
‘Kill Bill.’
‘You’re joking!’ Jamie laughed, nudging her, ‘All that violence.’
‘Blood splatter, vengeance and one-liners? I’m a changed woman,’ Mollie stuck out her tongue and giggled, pulling her cardigan around her. ‘What about you – best place you’ve ever been?’
‘I was stationed in Cyprus for a while – easiest gig ever. Training, barbecues, swimming. Sunshine and too much ouzo. It was a wonderful time,’ he grinned. ‘No threat of war, just training boys who thought national service would make them into men. It was a rite of passage. Getting them in shape and getting them away from their mothers’ apron strings.’
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