by Dawn Goodwin
‘So?’ Scarlet said with a raised eyebrow.
I looked up and briefly met her eyes before looking away again, not quite ready to start talking yet. I was still raging inside and felt a glut of bubbling lava every time I thought about Felicity. My mind kept returning to what she had said about Tom and Grace, and I desperately wanted to push it aside and let it go, but I couldn’t. A cold sheet seemed to wash over me and I knew she was right to a certain extent, but I couldn’t accommodate such thoughts yet as it would mean facing up to others.
Tom would never say if he was ashamed or hurting. By nature, he was one of the most non-confrontational men I had ever met. It was one of the first things I had loved about him: his ability to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, no matter how much they had wronged him, and to let things go rather than take people on. He was a listener, not an orator, and terrible at addressing anything that worried or angered him, but very empathetic. If Tom was hurting, he would keep it to himself so that he didn’t make it harder for me. But then, wasn’t I kind of doing the same thing? He hadn’t even called me to find out where I was last night, instead trusting that I was okay.
Part of me was acting like a rebellious teenager, perhaps thinking that if I pushed him far enough, he would force me to start talking, and once those gates were open, we would have to let the flood subside before we could close them again. But another part wanted to keep the gates closed, scared of the torrent I would unleash.
‘Oh, come on already! Tell me what I’ve missed!’ Scarlet pushed.
‘She set the police on me,’ I said, turning back to face her. One look at the expression on her face and we both collapsed in spasms of laughter and my anger evaporated.
When it finally subsided and we had wiped our eyes, she said, ‘She really was pissed off then,’ which set us off again.
The laughter eventually petered out. ‘Not only did I assault Felicity, I had to do the Walk of Shame back to the bar to retrieve my phone and pay the tab, then I nearly ran over a pedestrian on the way home, only to find the police on the front step warning me to back off my neighbour.’
‘So all in all, a busy day so far.’
‘You could say so.’
‘Well, I’m proud of you, girl. You let your hair down, you had a laugh, you blew out the cobwebs – and you stood up to that psycho bitch.’
‘I think you’ll find I’m considered to be the psycho bitch around here.’
‘Nonsense!’ Then her tone changed. ‘But there is a lesson to be learnt.’ She had come over all stern, like a teacher telling off a small child, and I felt my stomach plummet at the thought that I had disappointed her too. ‘Never shit on your doorstep.’ I looked at her, wondering if there was a punchline. ‘But vomiting is a different story.’ She cracked up with laughter again, clearly not feeling any remorse for our previous night’s indulgences.
‘Those bloody parking cones.’ I paused, the giggling subsiding. ‘She said some stuff though. It hit a nerve. I have to admit, I nearly did hit her properly. She goes on about how I need to get a grip and how my behaviour is out of control, then says I don’t talk to anyone anymore and I’m cut off from my friends, but how many of them have actually talked to me?’ My blood was rising again. ‘In the beginning, sure, they offered sympathy and brought over cottage pies, but I could see from their faces that they were all pleased it was happening to me and not them.’
‘Are you sure about that?’ she asked.
‘What do you mean?’ Now was not the time for Scarlet to play devil’s advocate, not with the mood I was in.
‘Well, maybe, just like you, they didn’t know what to say. Maybe you misinterpreted their motives. Maybe you were signalling that you needed time and space, and they were obliging, until it got to the point that they couldn’t find the right way to talk to you anymore. They couldn’t find the right in.’
I glared at her. Whose side was she on, anyway?
‘I’m just saying that I think you may have built your defences too high. It might be time to start breaking them down and letting somebody else in. You let me, didn’t you? Although I am very persuasive.’ She gave me a Cheshire Cat smile.
‘Yes, and I’m starting to wonder why I did.’
‘Come on,’ she nudged me with her elbow. ‘You know you love me,’ she teased. ‘There is another theory to consider though.’
‘Oh?’
‘That Felicity has been spreading stuff about you, talking behind your back, maybe that’s why everyone is avoiding you.’
‘She wouldn’t, would she?’
‘Who knows? I think you have to be careful.’
I chewed my lip in thought. She had a point, but a whispery voice in my head was telling me to slow down. The voice that usually popped up when I let Felicity boss me around and talk over me was suggesting that perhaps Scarlet was just as threatened by Felicity as Felicity was by her. Suddenly I’d gone from ‘No Mates Pullman’ to two people pulling me in opposite directions. Maybe I couldn’t trust either of them. Like Tom had said, how much did I really know about Scarlet? And even though I thought I knew everything about Felicity, she had proved me wrong on occasion.
Then, just as quickly, I felt traitorous for even thinking that of Scarlet, who had only ever supported me, helped me, kept me alive these last few weeks, even if I felt close to death today. She was about the only person I felt anything for right now; for everything and everyone else, I felt numb and hollow.
But there was still a niggling suspicion hovering in my subconscious that something wasn’t adding up.
‘You know, at some point we have to talk more about the accident. It would probably help,’ she said.
I put my mug down hard on the counter and coffee splashed over the side onto the granite surface, sullying the immaculate white expanse.
‘Not now,’ I said firmly and stood up. ‘Tom will be back soon and I have some explaining to do, so it might be best if you go.’
Scarlet stood up slowly. ‘Okay. If you’re sure, but you know where I am if you need me to listen.’ She stepped forward to hug me, but I was stiff and unyielding in her arms.
Tom
‘I told you to let it go!’ He could see Felicity through her kitchen window as he paced up and down in the garden, his jaw clamped in anger, his mobile tight against his ear.
‘I couldn’t, okay? I have a right to tell her she’s out of line – and you admitted you thought she’d overstepped the mark! I’m tired of everyone treating her with kid gloves. What if Tabitha—’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, Tabitha wouldn’t give two shits and you know it.’
‘Tom!’
He took a shaky breath and flung himself down into a garden chair, loosening his grip on the phone a little. He suddenly felt as though the air had been pushed out of him.
‘I don’t have to explain to you what she has been through,’ he said in a quieter voice. ‘And with the court case coming up, which she refuses to even mention… Yes, she was out of line, but I dunno… something is different.’ He thought of how Veronica’s eyes were sparkling again, but not in youthful effervescence; more like the lingering after-effects of an illegal high. It scared him.
Tom couldn’t see Felicity now that he had sat down and it helped him feel more in control. She had wanted to have this conversation in person, saying she didn’t want to be talking in hushed tones down a mobile line and through the bare wooden fence separating his life from hers. She wanted to be looking him in the eye, holding his hand, forcing him to see what was in front of him. But he needed distance from her. She wanted to get back together, but he wanted to put the whole thing behind him.
Tom had been under no illusions about what all of this had meant for Felicity when it had first begun: a juvenile game of one-upmanship and he hadn’t minded being the star prize. But for himself, he wasn’t so sure. What had started as a shoulder to cry on and a sympathetic ear had morphed into nothing deeper than pillow platitudes. He supposed it was really down to
feeling needed, pathetic as that sounded. Felicity had played to his ego, stroked it and made him feel noticed. Then she had started talking about them having a future together, leaving Ian, him leaving V, and he had panicked. He hadn’t really thought through what the affair meant – and he supposed that was essentially what this was, although the label left a bitter coating on his tongue and seemed to mock the years of friendship they had already shared. If it was serious, how long it would go on for and what the complicated repercussions would be - he hadn’t thought through any of it.
In contrast to the pressure from Felicity, V had now become a solitary figure and as much as he reached out to her, she pushed him back further and with more force. He felt like an intruder in his own home most days, as though he was disturbing the stale air by daring to carry on with his life. But he couldn’t give up on her again. She deserved better than this and he was in no doubt that this was wrong. She may not be giving much thought to his grief and heartache, but he knew she was so consumed herself that there was no room for him too. Yet.
‘Anyway, I’ve told you before, we can’t be together.’ His voice was strong and convincing, even if his heart was hammering unpleasantly in his chest.
‘Tom, I—’
‘No, Felicity,’ he said more emphatically. ‘V needs me. It’s obvious what she’s doing. She’s looking for attention, my attention. When she shut me out, I should’ve tried harder to get back in, but I didn’t. I gave up on her too easily. She’s my priority now. You have to accept that our time is over.’
Tom ran his hand through his hair, felt strands catch on his wedding ring.
‘I need you too, Tom.’ He could hear the panic building in her voice, her words scrambling to find something to say that would fix this. She had said to him the last time he had emphasised they were through that she didn’t want to go back to endless days of nothing to look forward to, mundanity, staring at Ian across the dinner table, discussing the weather and tutting at the news. She had said she would go mad herself. He felt himself bend, guilt manipulating him like malleable play dough between the will of his lover and enduring love for his absent wife.
‘Felicity, look, let me sort things out here, get us through the trial, then we’ll talk again, okay? That’s all I can promise right now. I’ve failed. I’ve let her and Grace down. Now I need to fix it. Let me fix it.’ His voice was strangled.
He cut the line and it went blissfully quiet. He sat for a moment, his eyes closed, his hand holding the phone lightly in his lap. Then his breath caught and he began to cry quietly, his shoulders lurching. He forced a shaky breath into his tight lungs and tried to get himself back under control.
What if he were to just disappear? Pack a bag and pick a destination far away. But he knew that was the coward’s way out. He needed to accept responsibility for his mistakes and face them head on.
He stood on wooden legs and saw Felicity moving away from the window. Swiping at the tears sticking to his cheeks like a filmy skin of glue, he took another breath. The duplicity and unfaithfulness had completely consumed him lately, making him nervous, thrilled and ashamed in equal measure. Just because Veronica wasn’t taking notice of what was going on around her didn’t mean he hadn’t stressed about keeping it hidden from her.
The thought of her finding out what he had been doing – with Felicity of all people – made a wave of nausea crash over him, followed quickly by a tightness in his chest, like a scream trying to force its way out. He sunk back into the chair, clutched his chest and hoped it was a heart attack.
Felicity
They gathered around the low table with their skinny lattes, frothy cappuccinos and strong Americanos. Someone had sneaked a bag of mini muffins onto the tray and they were all secretly relieved because they were starving, but couldn’t admit the pull of the cake. A few of them were now persisting with Virginia’s diet and even their coffees were considered contraband.
Felicity looked around the table. Across from her, Penny was regaling them with facts about the plans for her new kitchen extension – should she have painted or high-gloss units; what do they think about the hob on an island with a hanging extractor fan; was a separate utility room necessary? It was all rather tedious, but she feigned interest, making the appropriate nods and grunts at necessary intervals, while secretly wanting to tell her to just shut the hell up.
‘I think it’s the same colour as you used in your hallway, Felicity.’
‘Really? Fascinating,’ she said, dripping with sarcasm. Penny’s eyebrow arched. ‘I’m sorry, Penny, I’m sure your kitchen will be amazing when it is done.’ She reached for her cup and took a sip.
‘So what’s up with you then?’ Virginia asked.
‘Nothing.’ She had been desperate to tell them about Veronica ever since Tom had snubbed her yesterday, but had patiently waited for her moment. ‘Well, it’s… I had a run-in with Veronica yesterday and it’s been playing on my mind ever since.’
‘What do you mean by a “run-in”? Like an argument?’ Virginia asked.
‘You two were like hissing cats when we last met up, so I’m not entirely surprised.’ Zara said, then looked around the table as if for backup.
Felicity prickled, but kept a straight face. She sat forward and pushed her coffee mug away from her. ‘Look, between us, I’m worried. It seems our old friend Veronica has been getting herself into trouble. I was actually shocked at what I witnessed last night.’ She paused for dramatic effect. ‘I had just got back from picking Tabby up from her dance class – she’s doing her exam in a few weeks and her teacher thinks she has a very good chance of a distinction. Anyway, I was about to go inside the house when I heard Veronica’s door open. There she was, dressed to the nines in sky-high heels, clearly heading out for some do or other. I could hear voices, so she was with someone but it wasn’t Tom.’
‘Where was Tom?’ Penny asked, leaning forward with interest.
‘His car was in the drive, so he must’ve been home. But she disappeared in what I assume was an Uber, then I noticed Tom staring out of the lounge window and he looked dreadful, I have to say. Completely lost.’
They murmured in solidarity.
‘I feel so sorry for him. After all he’s been through – often it’s the men that take it the hardest because they just don’t know how to channel their emotions properly, you know?’ Virginia contributed.
‘So true, they feel completely out of control when they can’t fix a problem,’ Penny murmured.
‘Not that Veronica is doing a very good job of handling that herself, mind,’ Felicity threw in.
‘So what happened? It’s great that she’s going out, surely?’ Zara said.
‘Well, not necessarily. So it gets to the early hours of the morning, Ian and I were asleep, but as you know, since Tabby came along, I’m a very light sleeper—
‘You know, I’m the same. The slightest thing wakes me up these days,’ Penny interrupted. ‘It’s like once you have kids, that’s the end of sleep as you know it. They can sleep like a log, but not us…’ Her voice petered out as she caught Felicity’s stony glare.
‘As I was saying, it doesn’t take much to wake me up, but last night the noise in the street would’ve woken the dead. Car doors slamming, laughing, raised voices, it was ridiculous. So I woke Ian up – naturally he hadn’t heard a thing…’
‘Of course, they never do,’ Penny commented.
‘…He wanted none of it, said that it was probably just drunks on their way home and went back to sleep, but I thought it sounded like a familiar voice. I had a look out of the window and, as I thought, it was Veronica, pretty much leopard crawling to her door because she was so ratted! I watched to make sure she got in the house okay, because it was the decent thing to do, and eventually went back to sleep, but it took me a very long time. I felt dreadful this morning from tiredness, but that was nothing compared to how I felt after seeing the absolute carnage she had left in my front garden before she got to her own front door. And
to think I was worried about her safety!’ She took a satisfied sip of her coffee.
‘Why? What had she done?’ Virginia asked.
Felicity placed down her cup with authority. ‘Well, as I opened the door to bring in the milk this morning, I found myself staring into the most frightening and grotesque face ever.’ Felicity’s hands danced in front of her face, exaggerating and punctuating every word. ‘She had drawn a fully made-up, evil-looking face on one of my parking cones and positioned it right where it would scare me the most when I opened the door. I have to admit, I screamed when I saw it!’ She sat back for emphasis.
Zara snorted with laughter; the others looked outraged and all turned to stare at her.
‘Oh come on, you have to admit it’s a little funny!’ Felicity flicked her an icy glare. ‘Sorry,’ Zara mumbled.
‘That wasn’t the worst of it. She had completely trashed my beautiful flowerpot on the step – the lavender was annihilated. And…’ she paused dramatically, ‘she had vomited on my step.’
Indignant gasps rang out.
‘Now that’s out of order!’ Virginia offered.
Zara still looked amused. ‘Well, good for her, I say,’ she said. All eyes swivelled to glare at her again. ‘What?’ she said, looking from one to the next. ‘After everything she’s been through, she’s allowed to let her hair down once in a while. Besides, with the trial coming up, it would be normal for her to want a drink. I can’t imagine the stress she must be under. Okay, so maybe vomiting on your front step was a bit much, but I doubt she did it on purpose.’
Felicity felt rage burning her throat. Zara was defending her? ‘There are still certain standards that need to be maintained. We can’t all just go running amok when we want to,’ Felicity retorted. ‘What if Tabitha had been the first to open the door? We have our children to think of and have to set an example.’
