From a day that started as a solo endeavour, Bernadette couldn’t quite work out how it had ended with her, Hayley, Dev and Lizzy all sharing a car back to her hotel suite. What mattered was that she was loving every minute of it. This lot were a breath of fresh air. Dev was, without a doubt, one of the nicest, funniest lads she’d ever encountered. After he’d met up with Lizzy at the airport, he’d had no desire to go to the hotel where Cheryl was staying, so it had been easy for Bernadette to persuade them to come here. She’d only chatted to them on the car ride, but she could already see that Lizzy was all kinds of special. And it was patently obvious that she adored Dev every bit as much as she said in the letter. Even sweeter that it was reciprocated. Dev hadn’t stopped smiling since he saw her.
In the suite, it had been easy to reallocate the beds. It turned out that one of the rooms had a king-size bed, which Bernadette was happy to give to Dev and Lizzy. The other room had two queens, perfect for her and Hayley. And no, strangely, it didn’t feel weird at all to be sharing with someone she’d never met before this morning.
They attempted to switch their body clocks to St Lucia time, so they had to stay awake for the next few hours as it was barely 9 p.m., even though their bodies were claiming it was 2 a.m. the following morning and they should be horizontal. As a sleep-delaying tactic they ordered pizzas and club sandwiches on room service. Bernadette was just about to change into comfy pyjamas when her phone beeped. She took it outside on to the terrace.
It was a text from Sarah.
Got to the hospital. Eliza fine, just sore and in plaster. We’ve arranged to get her home tomorrow. I’m so relieved I could cry. Thank you for being so understanding, Bernadette. You’re the best kind of friend. I hope you had a good flight, and you weren’t too bored on the journey. I’ll call you tomorrow. Love you, Sxx
Bernadette smiled as she typed her reply.
I’m so relieved all is well with Eliza. Please give her a huge but gentle hug from me. Please don’t feel bad. I promise I’ve had the most surprising but wonderful day. I’m at the hotel now, with new friends and lots to tell. I’ll fill you in tomorrow and I love you back xxx
She could hear the others chatting inside, so she took a moment to sit and watch the stunning sunset that was shooting flares of colour on the horizon. It was perfect. Beautiful. The suite was spectacular, with its white porcelain floors, cream walls, overstuffed beige sofas and the sumptuous charcoal and gold palette of the curtains and cushions. There was a sitting area, a dining area and a mini kitchen that had everything she could possibly need and more. It was bigger than her little cottage, and much as she loved her home, it did lack the champagne on arrival, the fruit basket and the chocolate-dipped strawberries that were laid out on the ebony sideboard. It was perfection. And that extended out here, to the whitewashed terrace, with the huge grey love seats and the sun loungers with cushions so thick she could probably float away on them. All of it, the room, the resort, the smell of the ocean, it was paradise. And Kenneth was the only reason she was here.
How things change, she thought. This holiday had been booked by Kenneth, as some kind of twisted gesture of love, and yet, here she was, alone, yet having seen a whole new kind of love today. Watching Dev and Lizzy come together had been an unforgettable moment and even as it was happening, she could feel something inside her shift. After Kenneth, she’d been so relieved to get away from him, so jaded with the concept of love and relationships and – God forbid – marriage, that she’d pulled the shutters down on that whole aspect of her life. No men. No flirting. No dating. It had suited her fine. She’d told herself that she’d been there, done that, got the ‘I’ve been burned’ T-shirt, and she would only be a fool to go there again.
Now she wasn’t so sure.
On the shoreline in front of her, she could see a silhouette of a man, standing staring out at the ocean, watching the sun go down too. For a moment, Bernadette felt her heart quicken. He looked so like Kenneth. Same height. Same build. Same grey hair, swept back, so distinguished and the perfect style to complement the square jaw of his handsome face.
Of course, it wasn’t him. His heart attack had claimed him before he could be that man, standing out there, watching something so beautiful. Bernadette wasn’t sorry he was gone. Not for a moment. She was just sorry that she never got to say goodbye. And if she had…
Her mind went back to Lizzy’s letter today, so honest, so brutal, so articulate in her emotions and she wished she’d had that opportunity to express her thoughts and feelings to the man who’d turned her love against her. Even when she’d left him, there had been little dialogue, just a calm explanation from her, and some furious, castigating insults from him.
She closed her eyes, so that the only things in her world were the sound of the waves and the smell of the ocean.
Dear Kenneth…
So you’re gone. And not one bit of me is sorry, except perhaps the mother in me, who knows that despite everything, you were a good father to our children, and you’ll always have a piece of their heart. But not mine.
In some ways, I’ve come so far since I walked away from you. I’ve built an independent life of peace and simplicity that I adore. I only allow people in my life who are caring and kind and who want the best for me, just as I do for them.
I’d be denying reality though, if I didn’t admit that the awful parts of us have helped me to help other people. At work, in A&E, I’m always the first to spot signs of abuse. I don’t mean the bruises and the broken bones, I mean the wounds that aren’t visible: the blunt force trauma to the self-esteem, the cuts to the confidence, the footprints that show where someone stamped out the light in the victim’s soul. Those are the ones I see, because those are the wounds you inflicted on me.
Today, our history seeped into the present yet again. A young woman on my flight was married to a man who reminded me very much of you. I don’t need to go over that all again – you know who you were. We both do. You’d probably have been friends with this woman’s husband had you met him. A surgeon. By all accounts, a very intelligent respectable pillar of society. By my own account, a reprehensible bully.
Do you know, Kenneth, thanks to you, I saw who he was. Thanks to you, I had the experience to step in and help his wife. Thanks to you, I had no fear of him, because I’d already lived with that person and survived. He was a pale imitation. An abuser who hasn’t fully grown into the cruelty of his skin yet.
Thanks to you, and thanks to him, today she walked away. And I supported her. Because thanks to you, I knew what to say and what to do to help.
Thankfully, not all men are like you.
Today I met a young man who was as far from you as it is possible to be. He reminded me a lot of our Stuart. Kind, gentle, the best friend and partner in any crisis or celebration. He had many wonderful traits, but the one I admired most was his courage. No matter how many times he’d been hurt, he was opening his heart again, to love, to trust and to hope.
Maybe it’s time for me to do that too.
Maybe I want to live my life having known two kinds of love. The kind that takes away and the kind that gives.
Now, I’m ready for the kind that gives, for someone who supports, someone who sees the joy in life and in the person that they give their heart to.
So thank you, Kenneth. Being with you for thirty years taught me what I didn’t want. Now I feel ready to go find the life and the person that I do want.
No longer yours,
Bernadette
The man on the shore was wandering away now, strolling off across the sands. Time for Bernadette to do the same.
Invigorated, she pushed herself up from the edge of the terrace, and inhaled, exhaled, then went back inside, feeling like she’d finally said goodbye, finally turned the last page on that chapter.
As she opened the terrace door, she heard laughter, she heard chat and she heard love. And she knew it was time for her to join the party. She just wasn’t sure where to start.