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When I wake the next morning, I’m still fuming. I barely do even the most basic of ablutions before I leave the farm, wanting to escape as quickly as possible. Rosie wasn’t in our room when I got up, and I worry that she’s done something stupid and driven after Rupert, so I’m relieved to see that the Land Rover is still parked on the drive. I peek into the living room and find her asleep in one of the rocking chairs, using a dustsheet as a blanket. I might be mad as hell, but she’s still my sister, and I couldn’t leave without making sure she was safe.
Satisfied that she is, I pick up my suitcase and prepare for the long walk to the station. I’m halfway across the courtyard when I hear Alexis call out after me.
‘Wait, are you leaving now too?’
I snap my head round. The alcohol has worn off and, where last night it almost seemed comical what he’d done, now in the sober light of day I feel violated.
‘I am, but you’re not walking with me.’
‘Please, let me explain,’ he says, jogging to catch up with me.
I try to hurry away, only he’s nimble on his feet, thanks to his giant backpack, whereas I might as well be dragging an elephant behind me with the speed I’m going, and he soon catches up with me.
By the time I’ve made it to the dirt track, my case is flip-flopping all over the place and it’s nearly impossible to keep it vertical. Alexis goes to grab it out of my hand.
‘Please, let me.’
‘No,’ I snap. ‘You’ve done quite enough.’
He lets go and holds his hands up. ‘You know, I did not mean to –’
‘Don’t talk to me. I don’t want to hear it.’
He shuts up and the two of us walk along in silence. Or near silence, as I’m muttering every swear word in the book under my breath. I’m almost tempted to abandon my case right here on the track, when I hear the putt-putt-putt of an engine.
Oh great. Rosie’s come to find us – either that or it’s Jack. Neither of whom I want to see.
Luckily, as it passes and stops in front of us, I see that it’s Rodney in his pick-up truck.
‘Morning!’ he says. ‘Off somewhere, are we?’
‘To the station,’ I say. ‘Not together though.’
‘You want a lift? Obviously, the lift will have to be together,’ he says chuckling. ‘I’ve got Shep in the front. So you can either sit with him on your lap or you can sit in the trailer.
Sharing a vehicle with Alexis is the last thing I want to do, but I accept as it’s probably the only way I’ll make it to the train station before sunset with the speed I’m lugging my case at.
‘Yes, please,’ I say.
I struggle to lift up my case to put it in the back, and instinctively Alexis goes to help me, but I turn and block his efforts. By the time Rodney’s come to help me, my poor arm muscles are practically vibrating in spasm. I stomp round to the passenger door and try to move Shep over, but he’s having none of it. I sigh as I walk back round, as Rodney is closing the back flap.
‘I’ll get in here too,’ I say, sounding defeated.
Rodney rather enthusiastically gives me a hand up and I practically leap up as his hands make contact with my bum.
Before I know it, we’re bounding along the track, and I cling on to the side for dear life.
I’d half hoped to sneak off to London without anyone knowing I’d gone, but it seems that every man and his dog is out today. The mix of warm, dry weather and gossip from the barn dance means that there are enclaves of chatting villagers dotted along the route. I think only a carnival float with us on would have attracted more attention, not that that’s stopping Alexis. He’s waving regally like a carnival king as we pass. I try and sink lower in the trailer, but Liz and Gerry still spot me. They’ll no doubt be dining on this gossip all day in the shop. Although, with all the drama that unfolded last night, they’ll be spoilt for choice.
The only thing that makes it bearable is the thought that soon it won’t matter. I’m off today and I’m never going to see the village or these people again. Even if I make it up with Rosie, she’ll have finished with the renovations and be back in Manchester in a few weeks, and this little corner of Cumbria will be a distant memory.
The truck pulls up at the station and this time Alexis doesn’t even attempt to help me out, he knows the scolding look he’d get. Rodney holds his hand out for me to take as I scrabble down onto the ground.
‘I’m sorry to see you go, lass. Will you be back?’
I shake my head. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Shame. I know Jack’ll be sad.’
I laugh out loud. ‘I think he’ll be pretty glad to see the back of me.’
‘He’s not as tough as he looks, you know. Did you tell him you were going?’
I try not to think about the argument last night; I’ve replayed it enough times in my mind since it happened.
‘Yes, and said he couldn’t care less.’
Rodney nods. ‘Did he ever tell you about Catherine?’
‘No,’ I say, thinking that, in reality, I knew so little about him.
‘She was here in the village on holiday, not long after Jack moved up here, and they had a proper holiday romance. Or at least for her it was a holiday romance; he thought it was something more. When she left to go back to Devon where she was from, she ignored all his calls and texts. Eventually, when he went down to see her, as he was so worried that something had happened, he found out that she had a long-term boyfriend. She’d used Jack and it knocked him for six.’
It suddenly makes sense, why he was so upset about my tweets and about Erica’s postcard. He thought I was going to do the same thing.
‘Of course, that’s why he’s not fond of the tourists,’ he says, trying to laugh a little. ‘Anyway, your train will be in soon; you better go and get a ticket. You take care of yourself, OK?’
He reaches over and gives me a hug, and this time he doesn’t even try and cop a feel. I watch him get back in the truck and I wonder if I should get a lift back, to sort things out with Jack.
But it wouldn’t change anything, not in the grand scheme of things. I’m still going for my job interview in London, I’m going to pick up on my life where I left off and he’ll still be here. I’d be no better than the woman who broke his heart the first time.
I wave as Rodney pulls away, deciding that it’s better for me just to go; life here was only ever a fantasy.
*
The first thing I do when I make it back to Dulwich four hours later and one hundred pounds poorer, is to treat myself to a pumpkin spiced latte from my usual coffee shop. I also buy some chocolate brownies, thinking that Erica won’t be sticking to her no-chocolate, no-gluten rule while she’s going through a break-up. I sip my coffee as I walk along and try to get my head around being back. Initially, the noise is deafening, having been so used to the silence of Cumbria, and it’s a good few minutes before I start to tune out the hustle and bustle and noise of the city.
I arrive at the street entrance to Erica’s flat and I brace myself as I buzz her, not knowing what I’m going to find.
‘Hello?’ comes her perky voice. That doesn’t marry with the unwashed, unkempt, pyjama-wearing Erica that I had in my head.
‘Erica?’ I say in disbelief.
She screams so loudly that I have to take a step backwards, and I almost bump into an old lady walking her Yorkshire terrier. I apologise profusely but all she does is tut and shake her head.
‘Come on up, I can’t believe you’re here,’ she screeches.
I make my way up the stairs, and I’m genuinely flabbergasted when she opens the door. Her hair is neatly styled into loose waves, her make-up has been flawlessly applied, and she’s wearing tailored trousers and a loose shirt. She looks as if she’s stepped out of the weekend style supplement that she’s holding in her hands, and not out of the pit of heartbroken despair that I imagined.
‘Have you finally been released from your detox?’
She guides me into the living room, and I sit down next to her.
‘Sort of. I needed to come down for a meeting about a job, and I’d seen your Facebook status about breaking up with Chris. Why aren’t you more upset?’
I look around the room and it’s completely different from when I left. Clearly, she wasn’t kidding about the amount of stuff that Chris brought with him when he moved in. But why is all his stuff still here?
‘Oh, that,’ says Erica, waving her hand as if batting away a fly. ‘We broke up for about ten minutes. Do you know he actually refuses to put the dishwasher on until it’s absolutely chock-a-block full? We keep running out of spoons and it’s driving me crackers. The other morning I was forced to eat my porridge with a teaspoon and I snapped. We had this really stupid argument about all the stuff each other did that wound us up and I told him that there was no way that I was going to start flattening the toothpaste tube every time I brushed my teeth and if he couldn’t accept that, we might as well break up.’
Am I hearing this right? They broke up over teaspoons and toothpaste? Erica, the usually level-headed woman, who holds a senior position in an FTSE 100 company let teaspoons and toothpaste bother her?
‘So nothing big happened? No affairs? No cheating?’
‘No, nothing like that. I was just really mad, and I stormed off to work and on the way I changed my Facebook status. By the time I got to work Chris had already had flowers delivered to me with an apology, and work was so manic that I forgot about my status. Then Chris and I had all the important making up to do, which meant that we didn’t get out of bed at all yesterday, so I only changed my status late last night when I remembered.’
‘I didn’t see that, as my phone’s still down a well,’ I say through gritted teeth. ‘Did you not think that people would be worried about you?’
How could she be so flippant about this?
‘I replied to everyone’s comments, and I messaged you to say not to worry. I’m sure everyone saw the funny side; it was just a little lovers’ tiff.’
‘One that you felt the need to broadcast to the whole world.’
‘Well, not the whole world,’ she says, folding her arms to mirror mine. ‘Just my friends and family, and, as I said, everyone else knows that it was no big deal. I don’t understand why you’re making such a big thing out of it. It’s not as if you came running when you saw it, is it? I mean, you sent that message to me yesterday morning. You waited a whole twenty-four hours to come to see me.’
She’s pouting now.
‘I couldn’t leave Rosie; she’s having real relationship problems with her husband.’
We sit there in silence and I begin to think it was a mistake coming here.
‘Hello,’ says Chris, coming out of the bedroom in jeans and a chunky knitted jumper that makes him look like he’s an extra in a Scandi Noir. ‘I thought I heard voices. It’s lovely to see you, Daisy.’
He leans down and gives me a peck on the cheek, before walking into the kitchen.
‘Are you going to join us? We’re heading down for a late lunch at the Dog and Whistle.’
I look over at Erica and she’s looking away from me, her nose pointing in the air.
‘Um, I don’t think so,’ I say, starting to stand up. ‘I think I should be going.’
I’m halfway to the door, when I hear Erica sigh. ‘Don’t go,’ she says. She stands up and comes and gives me a hug. ‘I’m sorry. You’re right, it was a stupid thing to do and I’m pleased you came all the way here to check on me.’
‘Why did you need checking on? Oh, don’t tell me, you saw Erica’s genius Facebook break-up. Yes, I had my mum on the phone for half an hour on Thursday lamenting about what I’d done, letting her slip through my fingers.’
Erica looks a little sheepish.
‘No big deal, huh?’ I say, raising an eyebrow.
‘How about we just celebrate your return,’ she says, tactfully changing the subject. ‘You are staying, right?’
‘If you’ll have me?’
‘Of course, now you can come out for a big lunch with us,’ she says bossily. ‘You must be starving after your journey.’
‘Actually, I ate a pretty big breakfast while I waited for my connection at Crewe. You know what I’d love more than anything is to have a shower and probably a nap. I had a bit of a rough night last night.’
‘Did you now? Did it involve Jack, or was it that hot Frenchie, what’s his name, Alec?’
‘Alexis. Yes, it involved both of them.’
‘Oh really?’ she says in a husky voice.
‘Not like that, unfortunately.’
‘It sounds as if I’ve been missing out. I should get the kettle on and –’
‘Erica, we’ll probably be late, if we don’t get going soon. The reservation’s at two,’ says Chris tapping his watch.
‘Of course. Are you sure you won’t come with us?’
I look up at the two of them, dressed in their smart-casual attire. I’ve been for lunch with them numerous times before, but it seems different now, it’s as if they’ve moved on.
‘No, you two go ahead. I’ll sort myself out with a shower and some sleep and we can have a proper catch-up later.’
‘OK,’ says Erica giving me another hug. ‘I’m so glad you’re back. I’m meeting up with the girls after work on Monday night too; you’ll have to come. It’s not been the same without you. I’ve really missed you.’
‘I’ve missed you too.’
Chris coughs and breaks up our hug and he takes her hand as they leave. I watch them go, feeling relieved that they are still together. As much as I’m jealous that she’s starting a new chapter in her life, and I know it’ll mean I’ll ultimately get to spend less time with her, I’m pleased that she’s happy.
All I need to do now is sort myself out and get back on the road to happiness, and hopefully after Monday’s meeting at E.D.S.M., I’ll be one step closer to that happening.