Let's Call the Whole Thing Off (7 page)

‘Are you sure? Where will you go?’

‘I don’t know. The seaside, maybe. I love the coast.’

‘Hmmm. Will you be all right on your own?’

I looked up into Ben’s dark brown eyes, seeing the concern flickering there.

‘Of course I’ll be all right. I’m not going to the other side of the world. You don’t need to worry about me, honestly. I’m only going for a couple of days. I’ve got to come back at some stage and sort out all this mess.’ I gave him a resigned smile. ‘Besides, some sea air will do me the world of good.’

‘Okay,’ he said, sighing resignedly. ‘As long as you promise to phone me every day. And not to do anything stupid while you’re away.’

‘I promise. Well, nothing as stupid as anything I’ve done in the last day or so, at least.’

***

Ben dropped me off at the station and no sooner had I settled into my seat on the train and was gazing out of the window marvelling at how spontaneous I was being, then a huge sense of abandonment enveloped me. Thinking about Ed and Sophie, then leaving behind my job for a couple of weeks and finally watching Ben as he waved goodbye from the platform edge made me feel soppily nostalgic. It was like everything and everybody that I knew and loved was being ripped from my soul.

I could feel the tears forming in my eyes, but I was determined not to let them fall, not until Ben was out of sight at least, or else I knew he’d be on that train in a jiffy insisting I went home with him. Right at that moment he wouldn’t have to insist too hard.

I’d secretly hoped that he might beg me to stay, even just a little bit, although if he had I knew I’d have been sitting at his kitchen table right now finishing off his supplies of chocolate biscuits.

Just thinking about Ben’s kindness, the warmth in his eyes when he looked at me, the affection in his voice when he reassured me and the memory of his strong, defiant body when he confronted me with that shotgun, it was all too disturbing for words. Everything could have changed between us in that moment if he’d acted as recklessly as I’d been feeling last night.

And I didn’t mean shooting me in the heart either. Ed and Sophie had already done that to me earlier. I meant giving into my mad, ill-thought-through attempt at seduction.

Thank goodness Ben had seen it for what it was! I couldn’t believe I’d actually thought about jeopardising all those years of friendship for the sake of a sympathy shag.

Of course I loved Ben. I’d loved him since I was a kid. I loved him in the way you love your best friend, but last night, in my wrought and vulnerable condition, I’d mistaken that affection for something much much stronger.

Our friendship would have been blown to smithereens and that would have been awful because I valued Ben’s friendship above all else and at the moment I needed all the friends I could get. I wondered what he was thinking. Was he skipping back to his car, kicking his heels together in relief, knowing he’d narrowly escaped the clutches of a mad, unhinged woman who was as likely to burst into tears at any moment as she was to drop her knickers given half the chance? Would I ever recover from the shame?

Definitely, once this awful episode in my life was over and things had returned to some kind of normality, if that was possible, then one of the first things I would do was make it up to Ben. I would take him out for a slap-up meal. Who knew, I might be living in a different place then, a place of my own, and I might even have a new and proper boyfriend, one that wouldn’t cheat on me. And Ben and I would go to a swanky restaurant and I’d tell him all about my wonderful new life and my wonderful new boyfriend and we would look back at this time and laugh. We’d laugh about our lucky escapes. Mine from making the biggest mistake of my life by marrying Ed and Ben’s from that wacky night when we both nearly made a huge mistake and ended up in bed together.

I pulled out my phone and logged into my bank account. I had precisely £10327.65 to last me until payday. Admittedly £10K of that was money Ed had transferred across from his savings account earlier in the week to pay off some of the wedding expenses. But if it wasn’t for him and his stupid, selfish behaviour, I reasoned, then I wouldn’t be in this mess now so I was perfectly entitled to help myself to that money as … as my severance pay. That would teach him!

My phone beeped. Two texts.

Ed: Have a lovely time. Would be great to chat if you have the time. Remember, ILY xxx

Ben: Be careful. Don’t do anything stupid. If you want to come home, just call and I’ll come and fetch you. Xx

I switched off the phone and stuffed it to the bottom of my handbag, resolving not to look at it again. If I wanted to forget about everybody and everything at home and concentrate instead on what I was going to do with the rest of my life then I didn’t need those sorts of reminders. For a couple of days, at least. Funny thing was, it wasn’t Ed’s slightly needy and increasingly annoying texts and emails that were troubling me, but the thought of Ben back at his cottage going about his business, gently worrying about me, knowing that I would need only to say the word and he’d be at my side in an instance. My head dropped backwards on the seat and my eyes closed.

Yes, some distance from everybody would do me the power of good.

***

When I walked out of the station at Hollisea with my bag slung over my shoulder I had no idea where I was going, but it didn’t matter. I simply followed the signs to the beachfront.

The sun was shining, and its warmth on my skin gave me a tingle of anticipation. For the first time since I’d stumbled upon that diary and found out that my life was one whopping great big lie, I felt a tiny glimmer of hope bubbling in my stomach. A guy walked past me – young and fit and gorgeous-looking in his tight black T-shirt and blue jeans. The way his gaze travelled my body appreciatively, a wide smile on his lips, did more for my confidence in that moment than playing second fiddle to Ed for five years had ever done.

So, take that, Ed! I am an attractive, vibrant woman who has random good-looking young men admiring her in the street. Ha! You are welcome to Sophie and her two-faced ways, and one day, when I’ve got my new life and my new flat and I’ve got you totally and utterly out of my system, we’ll bump into each other in the street and you’ll have a moment, an uneasy moment, when you look back and think Did I really do the right thing? And already, I think, you know the answer to that one because I know I do.

When I reached the bottom of the hill I turned left and, miraculously, I was beside the seaside. I took a big breath, savouring the salty deliciousness in my nostrils, feeling the breeze lifting my hair. It must have been fifteen years since I was last here on a day trip with my mum and dad, but instantly I felt the same sense of exhilaration at being on an adventure. I could see the pier stretching out into the distance and headed that way.

People acted differently at the seaside. They smiled at you, made eye contact, invited you to share in their happiness as they walked along the front holding hands, eating ice creams and taking in the wonderful scenery. It was a reminder that there was happiness to be had outside the confines of my sad little life back in London. This was a different way of life, one I could definitely get used to, I thought later as I sat on a bench on the pier eating my own ice cream and feeling a snatch of something that wasn’t pure bloody misery. Something that filled me with a smidgeon of hope and for that I was entirely grateful.

I would need to find somewhere to stay, but that didn’t look to be a problem. I’d passed loads of guest houses and hotels on the ways with vacancies. And money wasn’t an issue not with 10k burning a hole in my pocket. I looked up and saw a poster on the wrought-iron railings.
Tonight – Live Music– at the Hollybush – The Breaknecks 8.00 p.m
. So that was the rest of my day sorted. I would find somewhere to stay and then tonight I’d go out on the town.

***

There were lots of lovely-looking small and reasonably priced places to stay in the back streets of Hollisea but in the end I plumped for the 5-star Grand View Hotel bang in the centre of the town. This wasn’t the time to be slumming it, not in my delicate state of my mind. No, what I needed was a bit of comfort and luxury. And the Grand View seemed to be the hotel best equipped to supply those in bucket loads. And they weren’t lying about the view either. It was magnificent. The floor-to-ceiling panoramic windows gave an endless vista of blue sea and blue sky. If the worse came to the worse and it poured with rain for the rest of the week, then I knew I’d be happy to be holed up in this room, watching the telly and partaking of the mini-bar.

‘Is there anything else you need, madam?’ asked the porter as he hovered by the door having expertly delivered my holdall to the suitcase rack. My scuffed and worn sports bag looked woefully out of place amongst the understated luxury of the hotel bedroom. I felt like explaining I had a matching set of posh luggage at home but it had been seconded for honeymoon duty, only I thought better of it.

‘Would it be possible to have a bottle of Prosecco?’ I said airily, as though this was a common enough request from me in such establishments.

‘Of course. I’ll get one sent up for you.’

‘Actually, make that a bottle of your finest champagne,’ I said, waving my hand in the air in a theatrical gesture. ‘I’m celebrating! I’m getting married this weekend.’

‘Really. Well, many congratulations, madam!’ he said with a genuine smile.

‘Yes, well, thank you,’ I said, grinning like an idiot, but feeling desperately sick to my stomach. I might be able to convince an unsuspecting porter that I was a blooming bride-to-be, but I was still no nearer to knowing if the wedding was actually going ahead.

As soon as he’d gone, I ran the bath, depositing the entire contents of all three bottles of bath gel into the water, before making myself a cup of tea – which I needed much more than I needed a glass of champagne at the moment – and helping myself to both packets of Viennese Whirl biscuits. I undressed, wrapped the big white fluffy robe around me and slipped my feet into the towelling slippers, then I flicked on the telly. I didn’t want to be disturbed in the bath so I lay down on the bed, waiting for room service to arrive, listening to the seagulls swooping outside, their calling gently soporific.

Ten minutes later when my champagne turned up resplendent in an ice bucket, I poured myself a glass of fizz – it would have been a shame to waste it – and took a very large sip. Then I refilled my glass and went and immersed myself in the bubbles. What a luxury. We didn’t have a bath at the flat, only a shower, so this was a rare and proper treat. I sighed, thinking about the flat that had been my home for most of my adult life. Whatever happened now, I’d never be able to go back and live there. Not with Sophie. A huge pang of sadness swept over me.

No more drink-fuelled evenings watching soppy films and endless episodes of
Come Dine with Me
and
Dinner Date
. No dancing around the living room to Katy Perry as we acted out our own twenty- plus version of ‘Teenage Dream’. No late-night baking sessions of cupcakes or cookies to satiate our chocolate cravings.

However much I didn’t want to think about it, I could just about imagine meeting another man one day – if I ever wanted to, that is, which at the moment looked wholly unlikely; but to find another bestie like Sophie, with all our shared history and experiences, it was never going to happen.

I scrubbed my face with the flannel, washing away the tears.

The thing was I still couldn’t really believe what I’d read in that diary. It’d been like reading about a stranger. I was half expecting someone to come running to my side to explain that it had all been a huge misunderstanding and that if I just came home again my old life would fall straight back into place. Only that was complete and utter fantasy, I knew. I’d seen from Ben’s guilt-flecked features that everything I’d imagined and more about Ed and Sophie had been only part of the truth.

For all my other life disasters Sophie had been my go-to person. The one person in the world who I could totally offload on. Hell, I’d even bent her ear about Ed; his unreliable time-keeping, his annoying habit of clearing out his teeth with the edge of a business card and his undying devotion to the poker channel. She’d listened and laughed as I’d indulged in a bit of boyfriend bashing, but now I wondered if she’d secretly relished those conversations, knowing that she’d be sharing my little snippets later with Ed when they’d be able to laugh together over the stupid deluded girlfriend. I cringed thinking about the time I’d given her a blow-by-blow account of when we’d made love in his dad’s shed without leaving out any of the gory details. She hadn’t batted an eyelid.

Still, the way I saw it, I had one of two options. I took another slug of champagne to get my thoughts absolutely straight in my mind as a new determination filled my water-soaked veins. Either I spent the rest of this week and the rest of my life drinking myself into a stupor, torturing myself with images of what Sophie and Ed might have got up to, trying to fathom out why they actually did it in the first place and only driving myself mad in the process or else I had to put the whole sorry episode to one side and start all over again.

Now either that meant starting over with someone new, which I couldn’t even begin to imagine, or it meant being the bigger person, thinking about everything I had to lose and maybe, just maybe, learning how to forgive Ed.

Which I couldn’t even begin to imagine either. No, whatever way I looked at it I could see no way out.

Still, other people had much worse things to contend with. I’d only being dumped on by my fiancé, been screwed by my best friend and been made homeless. You had to look on the positive side. And didn’t they say that the best revenge was being happy, living well.

Hell, if it bloody killed me, I was determined to live well and happy, if only to spite Ed and Sophie.

***

For supper I decided to give the hotel’s rosette-starred restaurant a miss and opted for fish and chips from a kiosk on the seafront instead. With a smothering of salt and vinegar and eaten from the polystyrene box, it tasted sublime. Much better than anything my local, or rather my ex-local, shop had dished up. It was a sad fact of life but my broken heart had given me a permanently ravenous hunger, but just as now wasn’t the time for slumming it, it also wasn’t the time for watching my calorie intake. I had my emotional well-being to think of and that meant keeping my blood sugar levels high. I found a bench to park my bum on and looked out to sea, munching on my supper, listening to the waves as they crashed into the rocks, watching as people meandered past in no hurry to get wherever it was they were going. When I’d finished I deposited my wrappings in the bin and that’s when I spotted the café on the other side of the road, The Rocky Road Café. The fine rain that had started less than five minutes ago was becoming more squally and my thin denim jacket was next to useless in protecting me from the elements. I picked up my bag, ran across the road and bundled through the door.