It had been four days since I’d heard from Blake, four whole days since I’d sent the text asking about his meeting with the possible band members. I also told him that I missed him and hoped to see him very soon. He hadn’t replied to my jokey text about Jim Morrison and the maracas, that being the reason I’d texted again. Okay, four days wasn’t that long, I supposed, but because we’d been in touch a lot, I was getting worried.
Visions of him being in some sort of trouble flashed through my mind. Had he been kidnapped by some dodgy French gang who was after—I don’t know—his guitar? Fallen over in the street and banged his head? Been involved in a car accident? Or, horror of horrors—worst thing of all—had he gone off with another woman? I felt distinctly down and dispirited, and the only thing I seemed able to do was to sit there on my bed and gaze at my phone, waiting impatiently for a message to pop up.
How frustrating that text messaging or possibly ringing was our only contact. I had no email for him and no actual address, although I could possibly contact the B&B he’d been staying in if I could remember what it was called. We’d been so caught up with La Petite Amelia and La Bar as meeting places that nothing else had seemed to matter. With a sense of relief, I realized I could contact La Bar if I really needed to. My mind was all over the place—how lucky that it was Saturday and I didn’t have to work.
My phone beeped, and looking at it straight away, desperate for it to be a message from Blake, I saw that, yeah, it was a message…but from James! I read it curiously. I’d never had a text from James before, and of course, I hadn’t got in touch with him while I was away, so I could only think that he’d got my number from Rose.
Hey Ruby, hope u okay and enjoyed your trip to France. Don’t forget the gang’s night out tonight cos of firework night. 8.00 pm in the Bluebell. Will be good to have a catch up. Seems ages since we spoke J xxx
By the gang, I assumed he meant me, Rose, Vanessa, Steve, Craig, and, of course, James. All purely friends. None of us were couples. I’d known nothing about it. Obviously Rose hadn’t invited me but, thinking about it, why shouldn’t I go? James had asked me to, and I had more right to be there than Rose did, really, considering that Vanessa was my friend first from college. Okay, we’d both known the boys since school, but I’d invited Rose along the first time we’d all met up, just to make it an even number really, and also because, at that time, Rose and I went everywhere together. Oh, happy days.
I felt quite buoyed up and excited about a night out. After all, I hadn’t been out to a bar for a drink since being in France with Blake. That, of course, encouraged all sorts of worrying things to flit through my mind, and, gazing longingly at my phone, I wished it would beep, and a reassuring message pop up. Also, though, I hadn’t been out with the usual gang to the local pubs in Emsworth for ages, weeks before I went away. I’d been bored with it but now felt that a night out would do me good, and it would be great to catch up with James.
The bedroom door opened and peering over the top of the room divider, I was pleased to see it was Rose. She looked good in a pair of skinny jeans and a long red T-shirt, the words, I Love Music With Soul, written across the front in loopy white letters, which immediately made me think of Blake and his comment about today’s music having no soul. I had the exact same T-shirt hanging in the wardrobe.
“Hey, Rose.”
She looked up in alarm. “God, Ruby. You made me jump. I thought you’d be out walking. It’s Saturday….”
“I’m going out soon, but….” Just having a response from her and hearing her voice made me really tempted to confide in her about Blake. At one time, we would have discussed it in depth for hours and gone through, and even written a list of the pros and cons of hearing from him or not hearing from him. The thought that we didn’t do that now made me sad.
She gazed at me questioningly, yet not quite meeting my eye. “But what?”
“Oh, nothing. Just that James texted me, so I know about tonight, about meeting in the Bluebell. Just thought I might go.”
“Okay.” She shrugged as if she couldn’t care one way or another and then flounced herself down full length on the bed and began to study her phone as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. “I’m thinking of having a little sleep,” she told me. “So don’t slam the door on your way out.”
“Rose, can we talk?”
“No, not at the moment,” she replied sulkily. She put her phone on the bedside cabinet and turned on her side, away from me. “I’m tired, couldn’t sleep last night.”
A sense of elation crept through me at the fact that Rose was at least willing to talk, so, picking up my rucksack and shrugging on my coat, I said cheerfully, “Okay, tonight then.”
She pretended to fall asleep really quickly, her breathing long and exaggerated, but I knew she hadn’t, and that she watched me through half-closed eyelids as I went out and gently closed the door.
Mum and Dad were busy in the garden, cutting and mowing and sweeping colorful leaves into piles. I shivered in the chilly air, hunching my shoulders, pulling on my gloves, and watching as a strengthening breeze chased the leaves around the garden, making it virtually impossible for Dad to collect them all and put them in his big green garden waste bag. Mum, giggling hysterically at his antics, looked young and happy and decidedly more positive than she had the other day. Maybe our good long talk had done her good. With a cheery wave, I set off out the garden gate and headed down the High Street. Maybe I’d call in at the bakers Smith & Vosper on the way. They did a really yummy vegetable pasty.
I checked my phone as I came to the shops, hoping to see a text message from Blake, but there was nothing. The awful thought that he was ignoring me flashed through my mind, and my stomach churned. No, surely not—Blake wouldn’t do that. He was far too upfront and truthful, and I was pretty sure if he had found somebody else, he would tell me. Wouldn’t he? Hmm, maybe not.
There was only one thing for it. I couldn’t keep sending text after text, so later, when the time was right, when I was totally alone on the seashore, I would ring him and find out exactly what was going on. No excuses. I had to know the truth about the awful long silence he was putting me through. I felt suddenly strong and empowered as I strode down the slippery cobbled street.
An unusually strong smell of incense, mixing with the odor of bacon sandwiches and baking pastry, wreathed its way through the air, bringing to my attention that a new shop had opened up a couple of doors away from the baker’s. I stopped to admire the jewelry displayed in the window. Beautiful long silver chains draped across little red satin cushions, earrings hanging from little trees and rings in sumptuous boxes set with twinkling diamonds, rubies, and emeralds. Whether or not the stones were real at such a cheap price, I wasn’t sure, but whatever, they looked pretty good to me. The shop also sold things like joss sticks, scented candles, tarot cards, spiritual healing and self-help books. I didn’t remember ever seeing a shop like this in Emsworth. It would be interesting to see how it fared.
I was just about to walk on when I spotted a little handwritten poster in the window advertising tarot readings and palm readings by Joanna—introductory offer ten pounds for thirty minutes instead of the usual twenty pounds. Come on in, and let me tell you your future! Normally I scorned this type of thing. How could anybody predict your future with a pack of cards or know what was going to happen to you from the lines on your hands? Ridiculous. But, I don’t know, maybe because I was worried at not hearing from Blake and was desperate to know what was going to happen, I found myself walking into the shop, going straight to the counter, and asking for Joanna.
~*~
Later, sitting at home, my mind returned to the conversation I’d had with Mum. I remembered her blowing on her tea, her breath mixing with the spiraling steam, before taking a sip, grimacing as the hot brew burned her tongue. The tea pot, sugar bowl, and milk jug stood close by on the table. Mum loved her tea. We’d decided to stay in the kitchen, so I took off my coat and hung it over the back of the chair before sitting down opposite her. Gulping at my creamy hot chocolate—I didn’t like tea. Even the smell of it made me cringe—my hands wrapped around the mug, I inhaled the lovely smell coming from whatever was still baking in the oven. I noticed that Mum looked tired, the lines on either side of her mouth deep grooves, and the skin beneath her eyes yellow and thin as paper.
“Chicken pie,” said Mum as if reading my mind, and then, “Okay then, tell me all about the library job.”
“Hey, that’s not fair, Mum. You said you’d tell me all about Michael and his dad first of all.”
Mum looked slightly shamefaced and, taking a deep breath, said, “Well, I’ve seen Michael’s dad over the years. We always kept in touch because…. Well, Michael is his baby too, and okay, he was taken straight away, but at least I saw him, I had a glimpse. Nick never did—”
“Nick?”
“Yes, he’s called Nick Peters. Look, I’m going to be very truthful here. Whatever you might think of me, even though we were so young at the time, Ruby, we loved each other. If we’d been older, if things had been different, we would have had the baby and gotten married.”
“Wow. I didn’t realize…. What does this mean, though, Mum? What about Dad?”
Mum frowned. “This has nothing to do with my feelings for your dad. I met dad a long time after all that happened. Nick and I had moved on and—well, I couldn’t stay with him, not without our baby. Good God, Ruby, I care about your dad very much. I have a very good life with him. After all the years together, we’re still good friends.”
A question that I knew I shouldn’t ask hovered tantalizingly on my tongue. I took another sip of hot chocolate before saying quietly, “Have you been unfaithful with Nick Peters, Mum?”
“No.” Mum shook her head and then repeated firmly, “No. Not physically, anyway.” I frowned and looked at her questioningly, sipping at my drink. “Maybe mentally. Sometimes after we’ve met and talked for an hour or two…well, I miss him and think about him for a long time after.”
“Is he married?”
“Yes. He lives in Horndean with his wife, Julie, and has two daughters, Lisa and Gemma. I think they’re twenty-eight and twenty-nine, just a little older than you and Rose.”
Mum looked up and gazed at me, an expression on her face that I’d never seen before. The sort of look that said this is the total truth, and you’ll just have to take it.
“Tell me about the day Michael turned up. What happened?”
“Well, it was weird,” she told me. “And really, I’m still reeling from the shock.” She was warming to our talk and poured more tea, adding a splash of milk and so few grains of sugar it was hardly worth it. “I was alone in the house, which I was glad about when I thought about everything later. It would have been awful if your dad had been home. Anyway, I heard a knock on the front door. I was hoping it was a delivery from Amazon. I’d ordered a book that I was really looking forward to reading, so I rushed to the door, opened it, and bam, there he was, just standing there.” She gazed into the middle distance as if she had forgotten I was there but was strongly reliving what had happened that day. “And Ruby….” She looked at me fully now. “Do you know what? I knew it was him. I knew it was my Michael. Even though it had been such a long time, and I hadn’t seen him since he was a newborn baby, I knew it was him.”
I nodded my head. “Go on,” I urged. “What happened next?”
“‘Mum?’ he said, and I said, ‘Michael?’ Well, he crushed me in a massive hug until I could barely breathe and kept saying, ‘Mum, Mum! I’ve found you. I’ve found you!’ I had never thought I’d ever see him again. My mum had to wrench him from my arms that day as I sat in my hospital bed. I really didn’t want to give him up. I really didn’t think I’d feel that way, but I made the decision to do it with Nan and Grandad.” Tears started to well up in her eyes. She tried to stop them with a finger, but they trickled slowly down her cheeks. I dug around in my coat pockets and brought out a packet from which I peeled a tissue and thrust it into her hand.
“Thank you, Ruby,” she said, sniffing hard, then blowing her nose and dabbing at her wet cheeks. The now damp tissue shredded in her fingers, and little white bits fell onto the table like flakes of snow. “When I finally got with your dad,” she told me as she tried to gulp back tears, “I couldn’t bring myself to marry him for years, even though he’d asked me to, because—this will probably sound stupid to you, Ruby—but I felt disrespectful to Michael. I couldn’t see how I could ever get married and have other children because it wouldn’t be fair to him. How could I give birth to and keep other children if I couldn’t keep him?”
Slowly I shook my head. “No, that doesn’t sound stupid, Mum. I understand. I can relate to that, as I’m sure most people could.” I snaked my hand across the table and clasped hers.
She smiled and, nodding towards our entwined hands, said wistfully, “My hands used to look like yours, smooth and white with no wrinkles and lines. Look at them now.”
“Hey, Mum,” I said with a giggle. “They’re not bad for a fifty some year old.” There was a short pause, just the sound of Mum sniffing and blowing her nose, before I said, “Do you think Nan and Grandad would like to meet Michael?”
“I’m not sure,” she replied. “I don’t know whether or not to tell them about him yet. To tell you the truth, Ruby, I don’t want to dredge up bad memories. I know they’ve regretted the decision over the years, just as I have. I just don’t know.” There was a short silence before she said, “Oh Ruby, I was such a silly young girl.”
“No, Mum,” I reassured her, shaking my head. “You weren’t. You fell in love; that was all.”
Sniffing hard again, she blew her nose and then poured more tea while saying, “Well come on, Ruby, quickly, before Rose and Michael get back. Tell me everything about the library job. And,” she fixed me with a hard stare, “About your holiday too. I feel there’s been something on your mind since you came back.”
Taking a deep breath, I unburdened myself, as it were, and told Mum everything.