The Next Forever

by Alix Kelso

  Chrissie’s order book began filling and her little business suddenly turned a corner and she never looked back.

  Now, as Chrissie once more picked up her sugar shaper and resumed her work for the animal safari birthday cake, she thought of just how lucky she was, and how strange it was that this luck had sprung from the worst moment in her life. Had she not found herself a pregnant jilted bride all those years ago, she might not have taken the path that led to this lovely little cake shop that she cherished. She wouldn’t have had Alison, the love of her life, and without Alison there would’ve been no Poppy, either.

  Life was good.

  But it still had many pressures, and Chrissie would have sorely liked to have had the day off that she’d planned for. Not for the first time, she wondered if her mother might just be right about taking on some staff at the cake shop. Between running the business and sharing her home with Alison and Gregor and Poppy, she had no time left over for herself. The fact that she’d been positively salivating at the idea of lingering over a cup of coffee in Valentino’s really said it all. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d made time to meet up with friends.

  And as for a love life? That really was a joke. Although she’d long ago recovered from the shock of being ditched at the altar, the responsibilities of raising a child alone and earning money and then starting her own business had left Chrissie with little time to even think about romance, never mind go out and find some. She’d never imagined still being alone at this point in her life. But she also knew that if she wanted that to change, she’d have to make time to actually do something about it.

  Which, as today had proved, was far easier said than done. And this, Chrissie knew, was the reason why the Wedding Cake Showcase competition entry couldn’t have come at a worse time.

  The oven timer pinged, and she removed the chocolate sponges and laid them out to cool. They looked good, very good in fact, and Chrissie knew this was going to be a special birthday cake once it was finished. As she washed the tins and cleared away her sugar work for the day, Chrissie realised she’d come to a decision.

  She would pull out of the wedding cake competition. If she couldn’t even manage one single day away from the business, how could she find time to create a cake spectacular enough for the competition? And if she couldn’t create something spectacular, there was simply no point in taking part at all.

  And although chaos at home was nothing unusual these days, Chrissie couldn’t help but feel there was something going on with Alison right now. She’d walked away from a hot pan on a hob this morning and it was so unlike her to be careless. Was Alison struggling with the trials of young motherhood? If so, then nothing else could matter more to Chrissie than being there for her child when she needed her. And right now, Alison needed her.

  It felt good to have made the decision. Chrissie only wished Irene hadn’t put her in this position in the first place. Pulling the envelope of paperwork from her bag, she searched for the instructions she’d need to pull out of the event.

  But as she flicked through the materials, Chrissie found her imagination beginning to wander dangerously. She thought of all the beautiful cakes that would be up for judging, and of the glitz and glamour that was traditionally associated with the high-profile event. There was no denying that, under other circumstances, it would be quite fun to take part. A little flicker of excitement caught in her stomach at the idea of designing a glorious cake and allowing it to be judged alongside other wonderful creations, all the while surrounded by a romantic spectacle of dresses and flowers and lovely wedding things.

  Chrissie pushed the thought away before it could take hold. Perhaps one day she’d do it. But not right now. And that was the end of the story.

  She cleared away her utensils and wiped down the kitchen counters, and when she glanced at the clock, she saw it was almost five. Another hour gone in the blink of an eye, and further proof that there simply wasn’t time for the foolishness of the wedding cake competition.

  She’d made her decision. She’d stick to it. She wouldn’t take part. She couldn’t take part.

  Chrissie locked up the cake shop and stepped out on to Caledonia Road. That bottle of red wine was waiting for her at home, she remembered, and there was still time enough for some gentle relaxed cooking at the hob. She’d have to make something for dinner anyway, so why not pour a glass of wine and set something bubbling in a pan?

  Smiling at this idea of the evening that lay ahead, Chrissie headed for home.

  6

  It was a quiet afternoon at The Crooked Thistle and the early evening crowd hadn’t yet arrived, so Keith sneaked upstairs to finish packing for his getaway to the whisky distillery. He could almost feel the fresh Highland air in his lungs.

  It had been such a long time since he’d been anywhere that he’d had to dust the little suitcase that lived on top of the wardrobe and run the vacuum cleaner nozzle around inside to freshen it up. This said something sad about his life, Keith knew. A man in his late fifties, with money in the bank and a healthy interest in the outside world, and yet he hadn’t actually gone anywhere in how long exactly? Two years? More like three, he realised as he counted back.

  The last trip he’d taken had been a long weekend in the Lake District with a woman he’d been seeing at the time, Gillian. The Lake District had been lovely. Gillian, on the other hand, had not, and had spent the entire time complaining about there being no good places to go shopping. What about the beautiful scenery? Keith had asked in disbelief. But Gillian had only pouted and sulked over a chip her nail polish had sustained as they’d been negotiating a fence stile while enjoying the great outdoors.

  She hadn’t been a very nice woman, Gillian. Keith wondered why he’d gone away with her in the first place. But as he folded the last of his clothes into the suitcase, he reminded himself that he already knew the answer to that question.

  He was an idiot when it came to women and romance.

  At least this trip wouldn’t be spoiled by either of those things. He’d be able to enjoy the distillery and the tours and the scenery without having to entertain some woman at his side. Naturally, he’d chat with the other people who were also booked on the tour, and no doubt enjoy their company, but being alone would mean that he could do whatever he wanted on this trip. It was liberating to think about it this way and he wondered why he hadn’t done something like this before.

  Once the little suitcase was packed, Keith laid out the clothes he planned to wear tomorrow on the drive, along with a pair of good comfortable shoes. He checked his wallet and made sure he had plenty of cash on hand, before flicking through the little guide book in which he’d already marked out some places he might stop off to break up the journey north. Satisfied that his preparations were all in order, he picked up the distillery pamphlet to review the tour timings and grinned with excitement. It felt good to be excited about something at last. He almost wanted to rub his hands together with glee at the prospect of some time away from the pub alone.

  Alone.

  The word reverberated inside his head, suddenly sounding not quite as fun as it had a moment ago.

  Just then, Keith heard Sophie calling up to him for the bar below. “We could use a hand down here, Keith!”

  Downstairs, he helped to serve the crowd of punters that had arrived, and was laying out fresh beer mats on the bar counter when the pub door swung open. He glanced up to greet the new customer. But when he saw who was there, his expression froze.

  Standing in the doorway, clutching a suitcase in each hand and wearing an uncertain smile on her face, was Janice, the woman who had five years earlier walked out of his life and joined the Keith McGraw Ex-Wife Hall of Fame. He hadn’t seen her since.

  “Hi, Keith,” Janice said, her voice bright and loud. “How are you?”

  For another long moment, Keith stared in stunned amazement. “Janice, what are you doing here?”

  She didn’t answer, just stood there with that odd lo
ok on her face. And then suddenly her smile wavered and she let out a huge sob as tears began rolling down her cheeks.

  “Oh Keith!” Janice wailed. She dropped the suitcases to the floor, rushed towards him and threw herself so fiercely into his arms that he almost lost his balance. “Oh Keith!” she sobbed again and buried her face into his chest. “I didn’t know where else to go!”

  Speechless, Keith could only stand there as his sobbing ex-wife clung to him and the pub customers looked on in astonishment and the tectonic plates on which his life had been so nicely balanced crunched together in a violent frenzy.

  Upstairs, Keith steered Janice towards the sofa in the living room and handed her a box of tissues from the sideboard. Pulling out an enormous handful, she dabbed at her eyes and blew her nose, leaving a trail of smeared mascara across her face.

  “Oh Keith,” Janice said as she sniffled, “I’ve made such a mess of everything.”

  That much was obvious, Keith thought. A person didn’t turn up on their ex-husband’s doorstep, crying their eyes out and with their suitcases in tow, because they thought it’d be nice to pop in for a minute and say hello. Keith turned to the drinks tray he kept on the sideboard and poured a generous measure of vodka into a glass for Janice, and then a generous measure of whisky for himself. When he handed her the drink, she smiled sadly, drank it down in one go and passed the glass back.

  “I think I’ll need another.”

  Keith said nothing, just refilled her glass. This time she drank it more slowly and Keith looked her over as he loitered nervously by the window, sipping at his own drink.

  Janice had always taken a lot of pride in her appearance, but she didn’t look good now. In addition to her tear-streaked make-up, her hair was messy and her roots were showing, which was itself a signal that something had gone horribly wrong in her life. During the two years he’d been married to her, Keith couldn’t recall her hair not being perfectly coloured and styled. The woman had almost single-handedly kept the local styling salon in business. Yet now she looked like she’d been dragged backwards through a hedge.

  It was clear that she was in the midst of a terrible disaster.

  “What happened?” Keith finally asked.

  Janice snivelled and blew her nose a few more times before answering. “Stuart left me. My Stuart left me for someone else and I’m devastated.”

  I know just how that feels, Keith thought. As if she’d read his mind, Janice gazed at him for a few seconds and nodded.

  “I know I’m only getting what I deserve, Keith. I cheated on you and treated you terribly. And now I’m getting a taste of my own nasty medicine.”

  Keith stayed quiet. She hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true. He might feel bad for her, sitting there in such a state, but he wasn’t about to pretend that what she’d done to him hadn’t broken his heart and left him completely and utterly humiliated.

  “I know how much you loved me, Keith,” Janice continued. “And I know this will sound callous, but the truth is that the way you loved me is the way I loved my Stuart.”

  She began sobbing again and making great noisy nose-honks that sounded like a flock of geese preparing for take-off.

  Keith frowned and downed his whisky. “So who’s this woman he’s gone off with? Maybe he’ll get tired of her and come back to you.”

  But Janice shook her head. “He says he’s in love and I believe him.” She looked up, her eyes wide and tear-filled and desperate. “I saw her. I went to her house to get a good look at her. And she’s so beautiful.” She wailed again. “And she’s so young! Probably twenty years younger than I am. I can’t compete with that!”

  Keith raised an eyebrow, and when Janice saw his expression, she put her hands up.

  “I know that’s a bit rich coming from me. I left you for a younger man and I know that must’ve hurt your pride.”

  “Hurt it?” Keith said. “Demolished it with a bloody great bulldozer, more like.”

  Janice began crying even harder. “Oh Keith, I know what I did to you. And now Stuart’s done it to me. And I’ve got nothing.”

  Keith sniffed. “I’m sure he’ll see you alright in the divorce.”

  Janice’s head snapped up at the harshness in his tone. She’d only been here for five minutes and already he was expected to be her shoulder to cry on. This was the woman who’d walked out on him with nary a backward glance. Quite why she’d come here to tell him all about her woes was a total mystery.

  But as she continued looking at him, Keith could see panic in her expression.

  “There won’t be a divorce,” Janice said, “because we never actually got married. And now he’s thrown me out of the house so his new girlfriend can move in… and I’ve got nothing!”

  Keith drained his glass, avoiding Janice’s gaze.

  “I don’t deserve your help,” Janice said, her tone desperate. “But could you let me stay here for a couple of nights until I get myself sorted?”

  And there it was. Hadn’t he known this was coming from the moment she’d walked through the doors with her suitcases? Suitcases, for God’s sake. Of course he’d known.

  She was in big trouble. She was homeless and presumably as good as penniless too, because Janice had always been terrible with money. When they’d been married, she’d been only too happy to let Keith deal with the finances. And now that she’d found herself in dire straits, she obviously had absolutely no clue what to do. Keith felt bad for her, a woman in her fifties who’d been hurt and abandoned and who would now have to fend for herself after a lifetime of being looked after. But the idea of allowing her to stay here, even for a single night, after her betrayal of their marriage and the way she’d walked out on him… he couldn’t do it. It was simply too much to ask of a man.

  “What about your sister?” Keith said. “Why can’t you go there?”

  Janice snorted. “Susan hates me.”

  “She doesn’t hate you,” Keith sighed. “You just don’t always see eye-to-eye. But she’s your sister. She’s your family.”

  “She hates me,” Janice repeated. “We had words a few months back and she told me she hates me and wants nothing to do with me.”

  “You should call her—”

  “I’m not calling her! Things are bad enough without having Susan gloating about it. Keith please, just let me stay here for a couple of nights.”

  He sighed and pulled out his wallet, removing some of the notes he’d tucked inside for his weekend trip. “How about I pay for a hotel room and…”

  But as soon as Janice saw the cash, she only began blubbering again. “Oh, please let me stay here! I need to be somewhere I know, somewhere I used to be happy. Believe it or not, I was so happy here with you.”

  Keith’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “If you were so bloody happy, why did you cheat on me? Not once, but time and time again! You made a complete fool of me.”

  It was the first time he’d let out the anger he’d stored up and he was surprised to discover how much was still inside. But he hadn’t meant to raise his voice and now Janice was openly sobbing, great streams of tears rolling down her cheeks.

  “I know what I did, Keith,” she said, her voice hitching. “I’m a terrible person. There, I said it! But I’m begging you, just let me stay here for a few days while I lick my wounds. I won’t bother you or get in your way. I’ll even help out in the pub to earn my keep. But please don’t make me go. Please.”

  She looked up at him with those big blue eyes, her expression pleading. It was manipulation, pure and simple. It wasn’t fair. He had no responsibility for her anymore and it was hardly his problem if she found herself at this awful moment in her life with no one else to turn to but an ex-husband who would’ve been happy to never set eyes on her again.

  But if she wouldn’t go to her sister’s, why wouldn’t she go to a hotel, like he’d suggested? He’d be the one paying for it. It wasn’t like he was turning her out on to the street. Maybe what she’d said was true – sh
e just needed to be somewhere that felt familiar. Somewhere that felt like home. Had she really been happy here, like she’d said? Keith had no idea. He couldn’t imagine how it would be possible to be happy with someone when you were cheating on them behind their back. But Janice had always been a mystery to him and he’d never really understood her during the two short years they’d been married. Maybe she had been happy and just had a funny way of showing it.

  Either way, none of that changed the dilemma he faced right now. Janice was begging to be allowed to stay. But he couldn’t live with his ex-wife who’d left him shattered. He ought to tell her to leave and sort out her problems on her own. He ought to tell her to pull herself together and learn how to stand on her own two feet.

  He ought to say those things. But he wouldn’t. That wasn’t the kind of man he was.

  Keith sighed. “You can stay for a couple of nights and that’s all.”

  Janice let out a garbled sob and jumped to her feet. “Thank you, Keith! You’re a good friend.”

  She grabbed him in a hug, holding on to him as if her life depended on it. Keith scowled and patted her on the back.

  “Right, that’s enough,” he finally said and pushed her away. “I said I’d help, Janice, but that doesn’t mean I want you all over me like this.”

  Janice stepped back and held up her hands. “I’m sorry. I’m just grateful, that’s all.”

  Keith grunted. “I’d better get back down to the pub. Make yourself at home.”

  She smiled and looked around the living room. “It’s just like I remember. And you’ve still got that tatty old sofa you wouldn’t let me replace when we were married.”

  “It didn’t need replacing then and it doesn’t need replacing now,” Keith said and headed for the door.

  “Would it be okay if I had a bath? Today’s been… well, it’s been a hard day and a bath would be nice.”