Chapter 38
I really am very sorry about Charlie’s black mood, but I can’t find it in me to stress about what happened with Vince. I’m too excited about the prospect of Thailand.
Charlie hasn’t booked his tickets yet, so I put him in touch with Marty. It would be amazing if we could go on the same flight, if not from Heathrow – that would be a bit of a trek for him – then at least from Bangkok.
I try to perk him up as we say goodbye.
‘Will you be all right?’ he asks, seeming reluctant to leave.
‘I’ll be fine!’ I exclaim. ‘Thailand, remember?’
‘And you’re sure you want us to all be there at the same time? We won’t be gatecrashing on a romantic getaway for you and Elliot?’ He looks concerned.
‘No. He probably won’t be able to make it, anyway.’
I go outside to wave them off, my heartstrings twanging as they round the corner, then I return indoors and play Honeyblood’s ‘Super Rat’ as loudly as I can without riling the neighbours through all four walls. When the chorus kicks in, I sing, ‘I will hate you forever’ at the top of my voice. It’s an ode to Vince, but, despite the sentiment, I can’t stop smiling.
Sara calls me the next day. She falls silent when I tell her I don’t want to write about Vince.
‘I’m sorry, but he never had a piece of my heart in the first place,’ I say.
‘But you can write about that,’ she replies emphatically. ‘It will make a fabulous chapter.’
‘I don’t want to.’ My voice is sullen.
‘That would be a missed opportunity,’ she cautions. ‘Does Elliot have anything to do with this change of heart?’
‘No, I haven’t spoken to him. He’d probably tell me to write about it, too,’ I mutter.
‘Perhaps you should call him, then,’ she says boldly.
The fact is, Elliot and I haven’t had a proper catch-up since I’ve been back. It’s never felt like the right time. He was very surprised to hear that Charlie and April were coming to see me. Surprised and apprehensive. I told him Charlie didn’t want me to visit Vince on my own and that ruffled his feathers a bit. I had to convince him he was just looking out for me, as any friend would, but it made him suspicious.
‘Is there anything I need to know?’ he asked me, a wary undertone to his voice.
‘No,’ I replied.
‘Because I’ve always trusted you.’
‘And you are right to,’ I said firmly.
He left it at that.
How am I going to tell him that Charlie and April are coming to Thailand? The truth is, he would mind their ‘gatecrashing’, as Charlie put it.
I try not to fret unnecessarily. There are only three weeks until we set off, so, if Elliot hasn’t got his act together yet, chances are he never will.
I’m wrong. He FaceTimes me the next morning, wanting to know how it went with Vince. I tell him. Unsurprisingly, he agrees with Sara.
‘She’s right, Bridgie,’ he says with easy nonchalance. ‘It would make a good chapter.’
I feel a spark of anger. ‘You weren’t there, you don’t know what he was like. I couldn’t bear to give the bastard the attention!’
Charlie was there, and he agrees with me. . . I don’t say it out loud.
‘All right, calm your tits,’ he replies with a grin. ‘I’ve got some news that will cheer you up.’
‘What?’ I ask, still smarting.
‘Guess who’s coming to Thailand. . .’
I stare at his gleeful face and realise that I don’t feel a trace of excitement.
His smile falters.
What I actually feel, I realise, is dismay.
That’s not right. That’s not right at all.
This is not a reaction I can bank. This is something that needs dealing with here and now.
Elliot’s brow creases into a frown. ‘You don’t seem that happy about it.’
I shake my head. I can’t correct him.
‘What’s going on?’ he demands to know.
‘Elliot, I’m sorry.’ My voice comes out in not much more than a whisper.
‘Why?’ he asks guardedly as I force myself to face the truth – it’s something I’ve been avoiding for a while.
‘I don’t want you to come,’ I admit.
‘What?’ he asks with alarm.
I take a deep breath and make myself say it. ‘I think we should break up.’
‘What?!’ He flies to an upright position. He’s been sprawled out on his brown-leather sofa, the one on which I’ve snuggled up with him on countless occasions. ‘Does this have anything to do with Charlie?’
‘No.’ My scalp prickles as I shake my head. ‘Yes.’ I shake it harder. ‘I don’t know.’ I return my gaze to him on the screen.
‘Have you cheated on me?’ He’s aghast.
‘No!’ I exclaim. ‘Never!’
‘But you wanted to,’ he says flatly.
‘That’s not true. At least, I don’t think it is. I’m very confused.’
I’ve always had strict rules about what constitutes cheating. To me, being unfaithful is not as simple as getting physical. Even fantasising about kissing or having sex with someone who isn’t your partner is a crime in my books.
I haven’t thought about Charlie in that way, but I’ve been suffocating a far deeper attraction to him. And there’s more to it than that. I can no longer deny what my heart has been trying to tell me for weeks.
I am in love with Charlie.
And how he feels about me is irrelevant to the conversation that’s going on right now. My admission itself is enough to bring my relationship with Elliot to its knees.
‘Do you not think this is just because we’ve been apart for so long?’ Elliot asks me in a wavering voice, and I feel sick to see the pain I’m causing.
Would we be splitting up if I’d never left Australia? I doubt it very much. We are good together – we always have been. I still can’t believe we found each other again after all these years. There’s every chance I’m making a terrible mistake in letting him go.
‘I could still come to Thailand.’ He puts forward this gentle suggestion. ‘We could just see.’
‘No.’ My chest feels constricted as reality sinks in. I really am breaking up with him.
It’s not as if there hadn’t been signs: I’ve been avoiding Face-Timing him for weeks, and, when we have spoken recently, our conversations have often been strained. The piece of me that was his has been shrinking steadily ever since Charlie and I became friends. It’s nothing that Elliot has done. It’s nothing that anyone has done intentionally. My heart is holding the reins, not my head. And it has already carved part of itself off for Charlie.
‘It is Charlie, isn’t it?’ Elliot looks stunned.
‘I don’t know what to say,’ I reply, feeling an intense stab of frustration that we’re having to have this conversation on the phone and not in person. ‘I’m so sorry. I don’t even know how he feels about me.’
‘You’re his dead wife’s ghostwriter, for Christ’s sake!’
‘I know!’ I raise my voice, feeling like I’m going to throw up. ‘And that’s totally fucked up! Nothing might ever come of this. All I know is that when you said you were coming to Thailand, I wasn’t happy. That’s the undeniable truth of the matter.’
‘So this is it,’ he says with disbelief. ‘We’re done?’
I stare with anguish at his face on the screen. The phone camera doesn’t care that this moment is poignant – it still refuses to capture our eye contact. I force myself to say it out loud. ‘Yes, El. I’m so sorry.’
A thought occurs to him, then. ‘Am I going to feature on your blog one day?’
‘No.’ I shake my head vigorously. ‘No.’
‘I better not, Bridget,’ he warns, and the little devil on my shoulder cries, ‘How do you like it when the tables are turned?’
‘You won’t,’ I vow. ‘You won’t.’
‘That would be really fucking ironic.’
I continue to shake my head.
He sighs and drags his hand over his beard, looking gutted. Tears spring up in my eyes. ‘Man. What will our mates say?’
I think of Bronte’s disappointed face and wince. She adores Elliot. I’ll get a call from her at some point, wanting to know what on earth it is I think I’m doing. I’m not sure myself. Everyone said we were the perfect couple. But is there any such thing?
We end the call, neither of us wanting to draw it out any longer, but that’s not to say we won’t speak again.
I go back to bed, swiping a box of tissues from the side table as I walk past. I don’t know what will happen with Charlie. I know he cares for me, but I’m not sure if his feelings run deeper – or if he’d ever even allow them to run deeper.
The future is uncertain, but right now, I just want to engulf myself in the past. I need time to mourn the death of yet another relationship.