The Runaway Ex

by Shani Struthers

  “Penny, please, enough. I’ve changed my flight. I’m going back to Florence tomorrow. I expect Layla will be going back on Monday as planned. If she is, tell her not to worry; she won’t bump into me. I’ll collect what I need from the apartment and go and stay at Paolo’s while we decide what we’re doing.”

  “Tomorrow? Sunday? You—you can’t.”

  “I can, and I am.”

  And with that, he extracted himself from her and went to join Mick at the bar. Desperately, she racked her brain for a way to make him stay. He had to stay—he had to. And so did Layla. Sort themselves out on British shores. But how she’d pull something effective out of the bag in the time she had, she didn’t have a clue.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  AFTER DROPPING TARA BACK HOME, Layla returned to Trecastle.

  “Hello,” she called as she let herself into Hannah and Jim’s flat.

  Silence greeted her. Layla went through to the living room, which seemed to have turned into a crèche overnight. There was a travel cot, toys galore, nappies, baby wipes, baby clothes in abundance, and a selection of jars containing rather lurid-looking contents. Grimacing, she went into her bedroom next to check for signs that Joseph might have returned in her absence—to do what, she didn’t know. Grab some clothes, perhaps? He’d need them if he was staying at Mick’s. Then again, Mick was about the same size as him, so perhaps he’d borrow some.

  She sighed, and the sound seemed so loud. It was quiet in here, too quiet. She needed company, someone to share the news with about Tara’s wedding. She’d head to the pub instead. Hannah, she knew, was working a shift there.

  All the way along the high street, she wondered if she’d bump into Joseph. Part of her wanted to, but another part recoiled at the thought. It was too soon; she didn’t feel ready. They’d see each other at Tara and Aiden’s wedding anyway, which was to be held in a few days, although which day she didn’t know yet. Tara was going to let her know. Surely, once he’d been told, he’d stay also, he of all people.

  Whether she was ready or not, as she pushed open the door to the Trecastle Inn, she came face to face with Joseph. Mick stood just a short distance behind him. As she was entering, they were on their way out. Struggling to control what surely must be a look of shock on her face, she also searched for something to say.

  “Hi,” was all she could manage.

  Joseph looked slightly aghast. Clearly he was expecting something more. Of course he was expecting something more! “Sorry” for a start. Had she even said that yet? Thinking back to the night of their fallout, she honestly couldn’t remember. Before her lips could form the word, however, he continued on. She had hesitated too long. Mick also passed by, a sympathetic smile on his face as he did so.

  As though through a veil of fog, she heard someone call her name. It was Penny.

  “Layla! Layla, over here.”

  Although it felt akin to wading through quicksand, she forced one foot in front of the other, sitting down on the bench beside Penny and staring blindly at the door.

  “Sorry about that.” Penny looked mortified. “I didn’t know you were coming to the pub. If I had, I would have texted to warn you Joseph was here.”

  Layla shook her head. “There’s no need to warn me. It’s fine. Anyway, let’s not worry about that right now. I’ve got some news I want to share.”

  Hannah had left the bar and come hurrying over, obviously concerned for her friend too.

  “Hun, are you okay?” she said, reaching out to touch her arm.

  “I’m fine,” Layla said, surprised that she felt annoyed with Hannah, that she wanted to shrug her off. Because she wasn’t able to sympathize with herself, it seemed she couldn’t accept sympathy from others. “Sit down. I’ve got something to tell you.”

  “You’re not leaving, are you?” Penny gasped in horror. “Not you too.”

  “Me too?” Layla queried.

  “Oh, nothing,” Penny quickly corrected herself. “I meant not yet.”

  “No, not yet.” Layla attempted a smile. “Not until after the wedding.”

  “What wedding?” It was Hannah this time.

  “What…? Joseph…?” Penny started.

  “No,” Layla almost shouted, eager to stop Penny from pursuing that particular train of thought. “I’m talking about Tara and Aiden. They’re getting married, next week.”

  “Next week?” Hannah seemed surprised. More solemnly, she added, “Actually, considering the circumstances, I suppose it makes sense.”

  “And,” Layla continued, looking at Penny and then Hannah in turn, “she wants us involved, you two as well as me. She wants us to help her organize it.”

  “Us?” Penny looked stumped. “Why us?”

  “Why not?” Layla replied. Focusing entirely on Hannah, she said, “Could you talk to Jim? Tara would love it if 96 Tears could play a set at her wedding.”

  Hannah didn’t hesitate. “He’s got that gig in Exeter on Friday, but if the dates clash, I know which one will take priority.”

  “Thanks, Hannah.”

  “And what about me?” asked Penny. “What’s my role in all of this?”

  “Style advisor, apparently.” Layla couldn’t quite keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

  “Style advisor?” Clearly Penny was thrilled. “She likes my style?” Looking at Richard, she continued, “Wow! Someone thinks I’ve got great dress sense.”

  Richard shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve told you, as long as you don’t go wearing dungarees, you look great to me.”

  “Dungarees?” Hannah frowned at the remark.

  “A private joke,” Penny explained.

  “Penny,” Layla said, “I know you and Richard have to get back home because of work, but are you able to either hang on for the wedding or come back for it? I know Tara would love it, obviously, but…in truth, so would I.”

  “I’ve told you,” Penny leaned across but thankfully—and intuitively for her—didn’t touch her arm. “I can’t speak for Richard, but I’m not going anywhere until you’re sorted.”

  “I’ve accrued quite a bit of holiday anyway,” Richard contributed. He looked at Penny and smiled. “And you know what? I bloody feel like taking it.”

  Layla was about to thank her when Penny piped up again. “A wedding. Oh my goodness, that’s just about the best news ever.” She wrapped her arms tightly round herself. “It couldn’t have come at a better time.”

  It was good news, but even Hannah looked confused as to why Penny was quite so ecstatic about it.

  Standing suddenly, Penny declared, “I’ve got to dash out. Erm…formula. I need formula.”

  “But we’ve got loads of formula back at the flat.” Richard looked bemused now. “I must have brought about a ton of it down with me.”

  “A new bottle, then,” Penny shot him a withering glance before continuing. “We need a new bottle. The old one, the teat’s worn or…or something. I shan’t be long.”

  And with that, she was out the door, faster than a bolt of lightning.

  Tara rang to let Layla and the others know what day the wedding would be the following week: Friday. Everyone was staying for it, even Joseph apparently, although he and Layla had kept their distance from each other during the days following the announcement. If she couldn’t face him, well, it seemed he couldn’t face her either. They were at stalemate. Completely.

  On Wednesday, Layla, Penny, Hannah, and Tara piled into Hannah’s car and drove to Exeter in Devon. A shopping spree was on the cards. Layla felt a slight unease at leaving Cornwall behind her, as though the dividing line between two counties brought into sharper relief the division between her and Joseph. Despite the fact she hadn’t seen Joseph since their encounter in the pub, he remained close by, at least, which gave her a crumb of comfort. Jim had been to visit him several times, taken some of his clothes over. When she had asked him how Joseph was, he had done his utmost to answer positively.

  “He’s fine, doing really well. Why don’t
you go over and see him?”

  Why? She’d have thought it was obvious why. It was at the wedding she’d see him, and at least preparations for it were keeping her busy beforehand. They’d have to go back to Florence soon after, though, the pair of them, ending the stalemate. Would they go back together or apart? She hoped it was the former, that the wedding, bound to be a magical affair, would lend them some magic too. They’d fall back into the life they had, although, if she were honest, her former life seemed far from real right now. It seemed like a dream, a sweet dream she thought she’d never wake up from. But woken she had, to a reality that was nothing less than stark.

  She reminded herself to focus on Tara and Tara only—she was whom the wedding was all about. Layla wanted her to have the most beautiful day possible; she deserved the most beautiful day possible. Her dream realized, at least.

  Arriving in Exeter, they parked in a multi-story car park.

  “Look, there’s a Topshop!” Penny squealed once they had climbed down from on high and reached the city center. Clearly, she had been parted from decent shops for too long.

  Tara, however, was enjoying Penny’s enthusiasm. “I don’t mind going in and having a look,” she said, “but really I’m after something a little less mainstream.”

  “Of course, of course,” Penny said, linking arms with her. “There’s bound to be plenty of really good boutiques here too. I’ll sniff them out. Don’t you worry.”

  Hannah and Layla fell into step behind Tara and Penny, Hannah chuckling as she did so. “They get on well, those two, don’t they?” she remarked.

  “They do,” Layla replied, thinking of the previous evening when the three of them had gone over to Tara’s parents’ house to draw up a list of wedding guests. Then, instead of practicing their calligraphic skills on gilt-edged invites, they had texted everyone to let them know instead. Both Penny and Tara were squealing then, marveling at how quickly people were replying and how many friends could make it at such short notice.

  “This is such a brilliant way to do wedding invites,” Penny had said almost in a state of wonder. “So modern, so cost-effective.”

  Aiden and Tara’s parents had looked on in amused silence.

  “Any idea what you’re going to wear?” Hannah asked Layla, bringing her back to the present.

  The last thing Layla felt like doing was dolling herself up, but she had to make the effort—something bright and light, in complete contrast to the way she felt.

  “I’m sure I’ll find something appropriate today. Are you buying anything?”

  “You seriously have to ask?” Hannah looked amazed. “I’m going to a wedding. Of course I’m buying a new outfit. I might even treat myself to a hat as well.”

  As they trailed around the shops, Layla did her best to match their frivolity. The others were so upbeat, she felt mean for not matching them smile for smile. And she did want to look good—she wanted to look knockout, in Joseph’s eyes anyway.

  It was in a little boutique called Luna that both she and Hannah found what they were looking for. Hannah chose a dress that was ruby in color, had bell sleeves, and fell just above the knees. She looked beautiful in it—a pocket princess. Layla opted for a wraparound dress in sage green, this time on the knee rather than above it. Everyone agreed it suited her coloring perfectly, especially her eyes.

  In contrast, Tara and Penny couldn’t find anything they liked. Over frothy coffees in a local café, Penny’s enthusiasm was dented.

  “There’s not an awe-inspiring selection here, is there?” she complained.

  “There is compared to anywhere I’ve been in a long while,” Hannah defended.

  “But it’s not comparable to London, is it? That’s where the glitz and glamour is.”

  “We don’t have time to go to London,” Layla reminded her. “But we’re not done yet. There’s plenty more shops on the horizon.”

  Penny refused to be convinced, while Tara just shrugged and smiled, taking it all in her stride.

  They hunted for Aiden’s suit next. Tara had originally intended to go shopping with him, she explained, but really, Aiden and retail establishments didn’t mix too well. Instead, she had taken his measurements, popped into Next, and chosen a dark-blue linen suit off the shelf, casual in style rather than formal, the trousers cool and loose. She also bought a white linen shirt to go with it and black ankle boots too.

  “That’s him done and dusted,” she said, pleased with herself.

  “How about something funky for his tie?” Penny suggested, her eyes lighting up again. “Red, perhaps, as a contrast to the blue? Or this yellow? It’s practically neon.”

  Tara and Penny decided on the yellow tie, Tara giggling that Aiden was going to be so unimpressed with what she had bought for him.

  “It might be a casual suit, but he’s still going to hate it,” she confided.

  “Good.” Penny winked. “He’ll be even more eager to get it off when the day’s over.”

  After another hour traipsing, Penny found the outfit she wanted, a fifties-style dress with a white-and-blue floral pattern. It suited perfectly her hourglass figure.

  “Had I known I was going to a wedding,” she whined, despite the great fit, “I might have dieted first. Got a size twelve instead of a fourteen.”

  “You look fabulous.” Layla shoved her. “Stop moaning.”

  Penny grinned. She knew Layla was right.

  It was in a vintage shop that Tara found her dress—they had almost walked right past Bygones because in the windows either side of the door, only costume jewelry was displayed. It was Penny who had spotted the “Vintage Clothes Upstairs” sign, despite the fact several chiffon scarves had been draped over it. After she had herded them in, they had oohed and ahhed at the sparkling brooches, necklaces, and rings downstairs first as well as a huge variety of vintage handbags, one in crocodile leather that Layla actually found quite disturbing, especially when Penny, who had been looking at it too at the time, held it up to her face and shouted, “Snap!” She had jumped, despite suspecting Penny was going to do such a thing.

  Upstairs, it smelled quite musty, but investigating further, they found some real gems on the rails, not especially suitable for Tara. Many of the dresses were too long for her petite frame; they would swamp her. The assistant asked what the occasion was, and Layla explained.

  The woman sized Tara up carefully before saying, “Hang on, I might just have something.”

  Disappearing into a room at the back of the shop, she reappeared only moments later. In her hands was a calf-length dress in gold satin.

  “It’s pale-gold silk satin, to be precise,” the woman replied when Tara asked her what the material was. “And it’s from the nineteen thirties. Lovely, isn’t it? Try it on.”

  The dress looked beautiful on Tara, as though it were made for her.

  “I think it would be rather nice to leave the neckline bare,” the assistant continued, “but what about this bracelet? It matches perfectly.”

  The silver-toned diamante bracelet with its ornate filigree design was indeed the ideal accompaniment.

  “Ah, you look really…Hollywood,” Penny said with a sigh, misty eyed.

  Swinging around, Tara told the assistant she’d take the lot. “Any shoes to match?” she asked hopefully.

  “Shoes? Oh, God, shoes,” shrieked Penny upon hearing the S-word. “What sort of a style advisor am I? I nearly forgot.”

  The shoes, thankfully, weren’t as painful as the clothes to find. Tara chose heels in nude to make her look taller—a fashion tip she said she had picked up from Angelina Jolie—but did confess she’d probably only wear them as far as the beach. Heels didn’t tend to work too well on sand, she pointed out.

  Bearing this in mind, Hannah, Layla, and Penny opted for ballet shoes in the softest leather, but they too doubted they’d be wearing them. Barefoot was probably going to be de rigueur for pretty much everyone on the day. Soon the girls were on their way back to Trecastle, intent on
a drink at the pub before Aiden came to pick Tara up.

  As she crossed the border back into Cornwall, Layla felt herself relax. It had been a great day, and soon she’d be in the same airspace as Joseph—although the old adage “so near and yet so far” had never seemed so pertinent.

  She noticed immediately the Trecastle Inn was devoid of Joseph, or Jim, or Mick, or any of the gang for that matter. There had been no more “bumping” into each other, which in a village this size was quite an achievement. Where was he? What was he doing? This yearning for him, it hurt so bad and only seemed to increase in pain rather than lessen. But Friday, she reminded herself. She’d see him on Friday. Everyone kept telling her it would be all right; he’d come round—he’d want her again. By then tempers would have simmered, his temper that is. She could only hope.

  Settling around a table, Hannah went over to the fridge behind the bar and brought back a bottle of Moët and Chandon.

  “I think after such a successful shopping trip, a few bubbles are in order, don’t you agree, girls?”

  They did, heartily, clinking glasses and cheering Tara.

  After talk of what they’d bought that day and how they were going to wear their hair and makeup, Penny piped up, “This wedding you’re having, this humanist approach, is it legally binding?”

  “Not legally, no.”

  “In which case, will Aiden be allowed to stay on until…you know…until…”

  “Penny.” Layla frowned at her. Discretion had never been her strong point.

  “It’s all right.” Tara looked amused, not offended. “Although Aiden was born in Australia, both his parents are English, so he won’t have a problem on that score.”

  “Gosh, that’s a relief,” Penny said, before adding, “Sorry.”

  “Do you know if I ever hear the word ‘sorry’ again, it’ll be too soon? No one’s got anything to be sorry for.” Looking specifically at Layla, Tara repeated, “No one.”

  Layla looked away.

  After they had finished the bottle, Layla nipped to the bathroom. When she came back, she saw Hannah had been collared by Gail from Cake and Crumb. Penny and Tara, meanwhile, were standing at the bar, engrossed in conversation too.