Everything (ARC)

by Catherine Miller

  It was early days, she reminded herself. With the funeral and interment not far behind her, it was bound to push those memories to the forefront of her mind. The miniature movies playing in her head were hard to bear. Wallowing on her dad’s sofa wasn’t helping and she knew what she needed to do. It was time to put the cottage on the market and find her version of her next dream – without Andy, she thought with a pang.

  Today, she was getting up at a reasonable hour and making herself presentable. She wanted to go out without scaring members of the public. She at least wanted her nest of hair to be detangled. Grief had made her neglect the things she normally took pride in.

  Guilt was solidly sat on her shoulders as she headed to Barwell Road where all the estate agencies were congregated. There was too much unfinished business to deal with and running away seemed like the best option. A new life would help.

  The first estate agent’s office she entered was cold and clinical. The two desks either side were made with clear Perspex to look like glass. The corners of the room, and even the plastic plants, were clean to a level that shouldn’t be humanly possible. The one estate agent in there was on the phone and raised a hand as Tabitha entered, indicating he’d be with her as soon as he was free.

  Tabitha browsed a few of the notices in the window. This was one of those experiences that should be exciting, but it was tinged with such sadness it would be impossible to enjoy. At least today she was only planning on putting the cottage on the market and not finding one of her own.

  If the aesthetics weren’t enough to put her off this place, the seven figures on some of the properties were. Instead of waiting, Tabitha fled. This wasn’t the place for her.

  Down a side alley, Tabitha found an agency slightly hidden away from the beaten track. It was instantly more appealing than all the others she’d wandered past so she braved going in. There was a bookshelf and leather chairs and a large map of the local area covering the wall. It was like heading into her father’s old study. She didn’t mind if the shopfront was out of the way, she was after a more discreet kind of service. She wasn’t looking for glaring billboards advertising her property. She was hoping to sell it without having to put one up at all.

  ‘How can I help you?’ A gentleman with a dusting of grey hair appeared from the back room. ‘I’ve just finished boiling the kettle. Would you like one?’

  ‘That would be lovely. Thank you.’ Tabitha believed that one should never turn down the opportunity for a hot drink, especially when it had been offered kindly.

  ‘Tea or coffee?’

  ‘Tea, please. Milk, no sugar.’

  ‘Take a seat. I’ll be right back.’

  Tabitha had a quick browse of the properties on display. There weren’t as many as the other shops, but they were far more likely to be within her budget when it came to her buying somewhere.

  ‘There we go.’ The gentleman passed Tabitha her drink and settled into his office chair. ‘My name’s David. How can I help?’

  The question stunned Tabitha into silence. The words were stuck in her throat as she contemplated whether anyone would ever really be able to help her. She took a seat, feeling overwhelmed.

  The estate agent took a sip of his drink as he waited for an answer. ‘Are you a first-time buyer? Do you know what kind of property you’re looking for?’

  Tabitha took the opportunity to gulp her tea, hoping the extra questions and some warm fluid would unlock the lump that had formed.

  ‘I, erm…’ Where on earth should she start? What a difficult thing it was to explain. ‘I… I have a place to sell. I’ve been widowed and I want to sell the property I’ve inherited.’

  In the end she said it quickly, the words bursting out of her, as if she was ripping off the plaster to expose the wound to air for the first time.

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that. We should be able to help you. Will you be looking for another property once you’ve sold?’

  Before she knew it, a tear plopped down into Tabitha’s mug. She’d known this would be hard, yet she had no choice but to be ready. Her current options were to continue sleeping on her father’s sofa or to return to what had been her marital home… The place where her husband had died. Neither of those were happy choices. And they weren’t ones where the forecast would change. There weren’t opportunities to mould them into a happy-ever-after. She needed to, somehow, find herself one of those.

  ‘I want somewhere that will be suitable for me to become a foster parent.’ She didn’t feel the need to explain her tears. ‘I want to concentrate on selling the cottage first, though. I know this is going to sound strange, but I don’t want the fact it’s for sale being advertised too widely.’

  ‘No billboard out the front of the property then. May I ask why?’ David opened a draw in his desk and cracked out some chocolate digestives, offering Tabitha one.

  ‘There might be some family tension around my decision to sell.’

  ‘Go on,’ David said, realising there was more to it all than a usual sale.

  ‘The property is a farm cottage. My husband’s family own the farm and gifted the cottage to us when we married. I own the cottage now Andy, my husband, has passed away.’

  ‘Do you think it would cause any problems for anyone purchasing the property? Is the will being contested or anything?’

  Tabitha chewed on a biscuit. ‘There shouldn’t be any problems like that. But my sister-in-law lives in the neighbouring cottage and my in-laws own the farm. They might not want the cottage going outside of the family.’

  ‘Have you given them the opportunity to buy the property so that doesn’t end up happening?’

  Honestly, Tabitha hadn’t. It seemed like a reasonably sensible thing to be considering, but her head was all over the shop. ‘The thing is, I have no idea how much the property is worth. I think if I offered it to the family, they would likely suggest an amount far less than the value of the house. I need to get market value if I’m going to get somewhere of my own.’

  Even though Tabitha legally owned the property, she knew Danielle would not see it like that. She would regard Andy’s share of the property as belonging to her parents and if she caught wind of Tabitha’s plans she was bound to interfere.

  ‘I’d be happy to value the property for you. At least that way if you do speak to them, you’ll know what you should be getting. If not, we can put it on the market and see what offers we get. I’ll put the information up here and on the website, but no billboards or newspaper advertising.’

  What followed were a series of questions about the property. How many rooms there were, what size the front and back gardens were, whether it had features such as central heating and double glazing. David filled all the information out on a crib sheet. There were a few questions that Tabitha stumbled over, tears springing into her eyes. Like when the boiler was last serviced and whether the loft was fully insulated. They were the kinds of things Andy kept tabs on and not knowing the answers gave her a whole new sense of missing him.

  ‘The thing is…’ Tabitha gulped. The dry biscuit crumbs seemed to cling to her throat. ‘I haven’t really been back there since it happened. Only briefly.’

  ‘Did your husband pass away at the house?’

  Tabitha nodded, a chill running through her as her memory flashed back to the moment she’d realised what was wrong. ‘Will that matter? Will it affect the sale?’

  ‘It’s not something you have to declare here in the UK. Obviously it might affect things if it was some kind of horror story, but I figure you wouldn’t be sat here if it was.’

  ‘He died in his sleep,’ Tabitha confirmed in a whisper. Saying it still sounded so alien. How could something so innocuous like going to bed end up killing a person?

  ‘I’m so sorry. What a shock that must have been for you.’

  Tabitha nodded and tried to focus on the room she was in rather than the scene her mind kept returning to. The encyclopaedias on the bookshelf, the map of the wall, and the green suc
culent plants on David’s desk alongside a family photo. Seeing that picture of happiness, the estate agent’s family all smiling, was enough to set her off so she then glanced at her phone’s screen for distraction.

  ‘Like I said, it shouldn’t affect the sale. Unfortunately people die in their own homes all the time. This certainly wouldn’t be the first case.’

  There was another message on her phone:

  Please return my calls. I miss you. We need to talk.

  That was the problem with trying to draw lines in the sand. It turned out some people didn’t understand them, even when she’d made it as clear as she possibly could.

  Apparently, stating that she didn’t want to hear from Toby wasn’t clear enough. Because her husband dying wasn’t the only scene replaying in her head from that day. There was another one. One that kept texting her and wouldn’t leave her alone.

  Twenty-Three

  Now

  The disappearance of the girls was infuriating. This time Tabitha had to involve the police, on Julie’s advice. At the terrifying point that search parties were being discussed, the girls had chosen to swan right back as if they’d done nothing wrong. It was maddening behaviour. Julie had suggested both girls start counselling and had initiated a referral. Tabitha was in complete agreement and hoped that if they didn’t feel able to talk to her, that they might open up to a professional.

  It was hard having so many conflicting feelings at once. She wanted what was best for Syd and Max, but she also wanted what was best for her. And now there was going to be a baby in her care to consider.

  There was a knotted ball inside of Tabitha that was making it hard to function. Any minute now Julie was going to arrive with Luna. She glanced at the large wooden clock on the wall again to see only three more minutes had passed since she last checked the time.

  Both girls were staying in to meet Luna and Tabitha hoped against hope that neither of them would throw another wobbly and walk out. The good thing was the weather was wet and miserable. She wouldn’t normally enjoy that amount of rain, but it did mean the girls wouldn’t be camping in the field anytime soon. Not without a tent at least. They weren’t surfacing from their rooms, though. So it was just Tabitha waiting, busy trying to work out if she had everything she needed ready. Frank had offered to be there, but they’d agreed he’d head over later to give Tabitha whatever assistance she needed.

  The bell ringing came as a surprise even though she was expecting it. Her heart hammered with excitement as she rushed to the door knowing what she was welcoming. When she opened the door, the only thing she took in was Luna. The tiny dot of a baby snug in her car seat. She was sleeping, her dark hair in tight curls. She looked like a doll, her features perfect.

  Without thinking, Tabitha took the car seat from Julie and unstrapped Luna, managing to lift the baby without waking her. She remembered reading that they shouldn’t stay in a car seat any longer than necessary.

  Julie made the tea for a change, allowing Tabitha to enjoy those first cuddles. It was silly, Tabitha knew that, but her heart was truly lost already. It shouldn’t happen that quickly, but there it was.

  ‘She’s here. Come and meet her,’ Tabitha said through the girls’ doors when she finally managed to stop staring.

  ‘Here we are.’ Julie placed the two mugs of tea on the coffee table.

  Syd and Max both emerged from their rooms.

  ‘Hi, baby!’ Syd said, a surprising note of enthusiasm in her voice. ‘She’s cute.’

  ‘Do you want to have a hold?’ Maybe Luna would have the same effect on them as she had on her and they’d instantly fall in love.

  ‘Nope.’ Syd recoiled at the idea.

  ‘Her name’s Luna. Do you want a hold, Max?’ Tabitha noticed she’d not said anything yet and was keeping at least an arm’s length away.

  ‘Not my kind of thing, thanks.’

  ‘Shall I go through everything with you?’ Julie said.

  The interruption was a shame, but Tabitha didn’t think she’d get any further than this with the girls at the moment.

  It was also a shame that things wouldn’t be as simple as cuddling a sleeping baby.

  Tabitha reminded herself, nothing was ever that simple.

  Twenty-Four

  Then

  Tabitha chose a table tucked away in a corner of the coffee shop, far away from everyone else.

  She didn’t want to be here. She wanted to be anywhere but here.

  Her world had been thrown off its axis and nothing was the same. For weeks now, she’d been running on autopilot. Not thinking. Not feeling. Not processing. Just doing what had to be done.

  She’d made her desire for no contact from Toby clear. She’d made it clear the night before Andy had passed away. Yet the daily text messages had continued anyway.

  Her throat was dry, but the coffee in front of her was still too hot to drink. She blew on it without any gusto and longed for the days when a caffeinated drink was all she required to lift her spirits.

  A quick glance of her watch told her he was late. How ridiculous that he’d made the effort to pester her so frequently and now he had the opportunity to speak with her properly, he wasn’t even here. Perhaps he wouldn’t show. Perhaps that would be a relief.

  Goodness knows she’d learned no one knew how to act around her with her new widow status. After the initial influx of cards and flowers, she’d not heard from people. Work colleagues suggested meeting for coffee and then struggled with the conversation when they realised the normal subjects were all different now. It was why she was so happily evading her old life. That and the guilt of everything that had happened.

  And here she was waiting for someone she’d hoped never to see again. What she would do for this to be a final coffee with her beloved Andy rather than meeting up with a friend she now loathed.

  ‘Tabitha!’

  The sound of her name made her break from methodically stirring her coffee. Toby was right beside her.

  He bent down and kissed her on the cheek with an attempt at hugging her unmoving frame. He took up the seat opposite. ‘God, I haven’t known what to do. I didn’t know what to do when you weren’t answering my messages. You always answer. Even when you’re mad.’

  But he’d crossed the line of making her mad this time. It was beyond that. ‘You’re supposed to be our friend.’

  ‘I know. I am. I just, I…’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I wasn’t sure what to do. I never expected this to happen… None of us did. I regret everything.’ Toby glanced around the coffee shop, making sure their conversation wasn’t overheard.

  ‘My husband died. He died. In our bed. Next to me.’

  ‘I know. I’m so sorry. It must have been awful.’ Toby reached out to stroke her arm. ‘I’m glad you got in touch. You need to let me be there for you.’

  Tabitha flinched and took her hand away. ‘Why haven’t you left me alone like I asked you to?’ This wasn’t going to be a happy reunion if that was what he’d been hoping for. What had happened was unforgiveable.

  ‘You’re one of my best friend, Tabs. Your husband died. It would be a bit shit of me if I didn’t make sure you’re okay. Melissa’s worried as well, although––’ Toby’s hands flew to his mouth.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I promised myself I wouldn’t.’

  ‘Wouldn’t, what?’

  ‘That I wouldn’t get upset. That I wouldn’t say anything.’

  ‘Say anything about what?’ If Tabitha had to repeat herself again she was going to leave.

  ‘Melissa’s left me. I was right about her having an affair. She’s left me to be with him.’

  ‘You’re joking?’ Tabitha went cold. Those moments playing again inside her head.

  ‘I know. Someone at the school, apparently. Hard to believe, but she’s already taken her things. She reckons Andy dying reminded her life is too short not to be happy.’

  ‘As long as you don’t mind hurting a few people along th
e way.’ Tabitha wondered how long it had been going on for and who it was with, how many times her best friend had lied to her, how little she knew her at all.

  ‘We’re good, though, aren’t we? We can support each other through this.’

  Tabitha’s mug was half empty without her ever recalling it reaching her lips. ‘Do you remember what happened the night before Andy died? Do you remember what you did?’ She hadn’t been able to forget.

  ‘I was drowning my sorrows. I knew something was wrong.’

  Toby obviously didn’t remember and Tabitha wasn’t about to fill him in. ‘I only got in touch to make it absolutely clear that I don’t want to hear from you again. I don’t want phone calls or texts or emails. You might not remember what happened, but our friendship ended that night.’

  If it hadn’t been clear before, it should be now. Surely Toby knew that friends were the ones who were there for a person when they needed them the most. Friends didn’t cross lines or say things they shouldn’t.

  ‘But, we need to talk.’

  ‘No, we don’t.’

  ‘I think we do. But not here.’ Toby glanced around again. ‘Somewhere else.’

  The hesitation he was demonstrating told Tabitha he did remember. ‘I asked to meet in public deliberately. I asked you to leave me alone before Andy died. The same stands now he’s dead.’

  ‘It doesn’t need to be like this. We’re best friends.’

  There were a hundred things he could have said. Mostly, I’m sorry your husband has died.

  ‘I can’t be friends with you any more.’ Tabitha bit her lip to stop herself from crying into her drink.

  ‘He was my friend too.’

  The sentence hung in the air and Tabitha wanted to grab it and ram it down his throat. She wanted him to take it back.

  ‘It would seem you and Melissa forgot the very definition of what friendship is.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’