Eve turned the key in the lock and the door swung inwards. She walked into the hallway and was greeted by a stale smell that was a mixture of damp washing and old food. She sighed as she closed the door and dumped her holdall and handbag on the floor next to the downstairs cloakroom, then carefully propped Jack’s parcel and the bag of food from Mary next to them. She’d left her suitcase at Mary’s with some of her belongings; it made her feel a bit better, as if it was some kind of security measure. She’d have to return if her things were still there, wouldn’t she?
She picked up the post that had scattered on the hall mat and went through to the kitchen. Everything was as she had left it following her hasty departure. She’d done a quick clean-through before leaving but she must have missed a few things because there was something mysterious growing mould in the fruit bowl and the smell of damp washing was even stronger. A quick glance in the utility room made her groan. She recalled opening the washing machine door before leaving, meaning to take out the towels she’d washed, but she’d been distracted and forgotten about them. She filled the cap with non-biological liquid and flung it into the drum, then poured fabric softener into the drawer and put the machine on a sixty-degree wash.
As the drum filled with water, Eve went around the house opening windows, as well as the French doors that led from the dining room into the garden. She didn’t want Darryl thinking she was living in conditions resembling a student house in the eighties. Once a breeze was blowing through the house, she placed the plastic boxes of food in the fridge and freezer, then sat at the kitchen table and went through the post. Nothing of any real interest, just bills and a letter from the bank offering her an extension on her credit card limit – she was the perfect customer, paying off her entire balance each month – until she got to one with the school’s stamp on it.
Her bowels seized up.
Her mouth went dry.
Her heart began to pound.
What do they want?
She stuck a shaking finger under the seal and pulled out the page inside. It was a formal and courteous letter from Sandra Winters enquiring after her health and asking if there was anything that the school and governors could do to help. It stated that they’d received her sick note and that they were keen to do all they could to support her. Eve had seen such letters before – hell, she’d sent them out herself to staff with long-term absences as part of the managing sickness absence policy – so she knew it was just a formality, but being on the receiving end of one was horrific.
How had she got to this place? This sorry state of affairs?
Eve didn’t do sick and she didn’t get into trouble with her employer.
She flung the letter across the table then followed it with the envelope. This couldn’t be good for her health. She’d been back all of half an hour and already she could feel the pressure closing in like a pack of hungry wolves. She didn’t want to feel this way. But she was trapped.
Or was she?
She had savings. She had no debt except for the credit card, which her salary covered easily, and the mortgage, but they’d put down a healthy deposit on the house after making money on their first house sale and had paid the mortgage monthly without fail. That meant there was a considerable amount of equity in the property, which was only just three years old and on a coveted estate near two of the best primary schools in Bristol. In spite of the housing slump, it would surely sell if they put it on the market. Besides, she needed to consider it or she’d have to buy Darryl out, and although she could afford that, she didn’t really want to stay here alone any longer. It was a house of shadows, a house of shattered dreams, and Eve was becoming convinced that it was adding to her worries. When she spoke to Darryl tomorrow, she’d agree to sell it, and quickly.
Then she would have more cash to squirrel away. Even without her salary she could buy a smaller place and, if she lived carefully, survive easily for a year or longer. So she was lucky, she reassured herself. Unlike some people, she wasn’t trapped; she had choices. It was just up to her now to make the biggest choice of all: did she return to work after the break, or should she quit? It was a terrifying prospect for a woman who’d worked all her life and striven to be independent.
Her thoughts drifted to her aunt’s cottages set on the hill overlooking Conwenna, with the tree-covered gravel driveway bordered on both sides by pretty bluebells, and the colourful roses about to bloom on the trellises around the cottage doors. Where she could hear the squawk of seagulls and the cooing of wood pigeons as well as the hoot of an owl at night. Where she could smell the salt in the air and gaze out to sea; sense the freedom of the open horizon even when she was indoors. Where she could sit with Aunt Mary and chat about life over tea and cake. Where she could see Gabe and rub his silky ears as he leaned against her legs.
Where she could wrap her arms around Jack and bury her face in his neck, breathe deeply of his special scent and feel at once safe and exhilarated. Where she’d felt for the first time in her life that she was finally home.
Eve had experienced a different kind of existence in Conwenna, a life that was a life and not just an existence.
She knew what she wanted now; she just had to summon the courage to make it happen.
When Eve had showered and pulled on her softest pyjamas, she went back downstairs and picked up the parcel from Jack. She’d been afraid to open it earlier, had worried that it would deepen her heartache, but she couldn’t postpone it any longer.
She laid it on the kitchen table and gently undid the string Jack had tied around it to keep the paper in place. She held it for a moment, conscious that his hands had touched it, had tied the knot and bow. Then she carefully opened the paper and allowed herself to look at what Jack had created.
For a moment, she just gazed at the charcoal sketch, but soon tears welled in her eyes and she let out a strangled moan.
The drawing showed her and Gabe facing each other on the sofa in the assessment room. What stunned her most was how peaceful her expression was as she snoozed. She looked more serene than she thought possible. And as for Gabe … the big black hound was watching her closely, as if he was guarding her while she was at her most vulnerable. As if he was her dog.
But of course; he is my dog!
The thought came out of nowhere and pierced Eve’s chest. She covered her thudding heart with both hands. How could she leave Gabe there? Yes, he was well taken care of at the sanctuary, but he had bonded with her after all he had been through. After all the loneliness and pain and hurt. He had chosen to trust her, and such trust was a gift, to be valued and treasured, not ignored and left behind.
Gabe had chosen Eve.
She went to the kitchen drawer and took out a notepad and pen, then began making a to-do list. She needed to get everything in order, for her sake and for Gabe’s.
And for Jack’s too.
Because he had drawn this sketch, he had captured this precious moment forever, and that was something else that Eve shouldn’t forget. He had taken the time to do this then given it to her as a parting gift. So surely there was something there, something more lasting than physical attraction and deeper than pity and concern. There was a bond between Eve and Jack just as there was between Eve and Gabe, but would it be enough of a foundation to build a life on?
I hope so with all my heart.
There was a knock at the front door. Eve paused in the kitchen and checked the clock. It was ten minutes to six. If it was Darryl, he was early. She’d kept herself busy all day, kept moving as a way to fight the tiredness after a restless night in her own bed. She’d been sleeping so well in Conwenna and being back in the big empty house had left her jumping at every noise. But now, it was time to deal with matters she’d delayed for too long.
She checked her appearance in the hallway mirror. She’d changed five times, not knowing what was appropriate clothing for a serious meeting with your ex-husband. She’d ended up settling on black linen trousers and a black vest top. Cool and comfortable yet still smart. She’d tamed her hair with a touch of serum that she’d found in her bathroom cupboard and now it shone. It was lighter from her time in the sun in Conwenna and her skin also had a light golden glow. She did look better than she had just two weeks ago. Even she could see that.
She took a deep breath then opened the door.
‘Darryl, hi!’ She stood back to let him in, then jumped as he placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned in to kiss her cheek.
‘Oh … sorry. I just, uh …’
‘No, it’s okay, really. Don’t worry about it.’ Eve patted his hand.
‘I’m not sure what the correct etiquette is when you meet up with your soon-to-be-ex-wife.’ He flushed then handed her a bunch of flowers. ‘And I brought these for the same reason.’
‘Thank you. That’s very kind of you. And I didn’t mean to jump but you took me by surprise. It’s been a while since I last saw you.’
He nodded, a flush creeping up his throat. This was uncomfortable for both of them.
‘Come on, let’s go through to the kitchen and I’ll make us a coffee.’
Eve switched the kettle on. She’d cleaned around thoroughly that morning and hoped that the musty smell had gone completely now.
Darryl sat at the table and folded his hands on its shiny surface. Then he put them under the table. Then he folded them on top again.
Eve smiled. ‘Nervous?’
‘Yes. It’s ridiculous but I can’t help it. This is so weird.’
‘I know. But try not to worry. It’s just you and me. No one else here to criticize.’
‘No. Of course not.’
Eve poured water onto the coffee grains then added milk and two sugars to Darryl’s mug.
‘Here you go. You want a biscuit or a slice of cake? I have scones from Aunt Mary?’
‘No.’ Darryl shook his head. ‘But thanks. I don’t think I could swallow food right now.’
‘So how have things been?’ Eve asked as she watched him carefully. He’d lost weight in the months since she’d last seen him and she thought he had more grey spreading through his brown hair, but it could just be that she hadn’t noticed it before.
‘Oh, you know, I’m okay. It’s been tough, but with work and … and other things, I keep going.’
‘Other things?’ Eve asked.
‘Things like … I’m seeing someone.’ He let out a deep breath, as if it had taken him a lot of effort to say the words.
‘Oh?’ Eve tried to maintain a calm expression. She wasn’t really surprised, had expected it at some point, but now it was there in front of her, she didn’t know how to react. ‘Do I know her?’
He shook his head. ‘She’s a teaching assistant at one of the local primary schools. I met her through a mutual friend. She has … um … a little boy.’
‘A child?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well that’s … that’s wonderful. I hope she’s good to you.’ Not like me.
‘She’s very nice but it’s early days. I can’t move on properly while we’re still married, Eve, if I’m honest. I mean, things are done between us, aren’t they? There’s no going back?’
‘You left, Darryl. Months ago.’ Eve spoke as gently as she could, but she saw Darryl’s blue eyes cloud with hurt at the reproach.
‘True. But you wanted me gone. It wasn’t just me.’
Eve sipped her coffee. He was right. It had been over between them for a while before he left. If it hadn’t been for the pregnancy, it might well have happened sooner.
‘You’re right. It wasn’t just you. I guess it’s strange knowing that you’re with someone else now.’
‘How about you?’
Eve’s cheeks flushed and she considered telling a fib, but it felt mean to deceive him. ‘There wasn’t anyone … until I went to Cornwall.’
‘You met someone in Conwenna?’
She nodded. ‘But it’s not like a relationship or anything.’
‘It’s not?’ Darryl smiled. ‘What’s it like then?’
‘Oh I don’t know how to explain it.’ How could she describe her hotchpotch of emotions to the man she was still legally married to? It didn’t seem right, and yet … ‘I met someone kind, someone who hasn’t been through what I … what we … went through but who has been through his own tragedy in life. He kind of gets where I’m coming from.’
Darryl stared at her for a moment, then licked his lips and took a breath as if he was going to say something, but instead he released it slowly and sipped his coffee instead.
‘So how do we sort all this? I know the solicitors will make things legal, but if we can hammer out the details then it will be easier in the long run.’
Eve nodded. ‘I’ve made a list.’ She pushed the notepad in front of him and he read it in silence then gave a low whistle. ‘Very organized!’
‘You know me.’
‘And you’re sure that this is what you want? To sell the house, split our joint savings to pay the legal fees then go our separate ways?’
‘Yes, I think it’s for the best. Unless you want the house? If you do, we can arrange that instead.’
Darryl leaned back in his chair and folded his arms then gazed around the room. ‘It’s a great house, Eve, but there are too many memories here. It needs a family and a fresh start. Just like we do.’
‘So we sell.’
‘You want me to ring the estate agent?’
‘No, it’s okay. I’m still off work so I’ll contact them tomorrow and arrange it all.’
‘Thanks. Now, how about I come over at the weekend with my brother’s van and take away whatever you don’t want or need? I’m kind of rattling around in my rented place at the moment and it’s embarrassing having to offer visitors a deckchair.’
‘Oh no! You don’t have furniture?’
He laughed but shook his head. ‘I didn’t want to buy anything because I knew if I moved again it might not fit. Some of the houses out there have tiny lounges!’
‘Oh Darryl, there’s not much here I really want to keep. You make a list and we can split it all. Hell, you can have most of it!’
‘Very generous of you. But don’t sell yourself short.’
Eve bit her lip. She hadn’t known what to expect but was surprised that things were so civil. There was a lot of pain between them but there were also good memories. They’d both said hurtful things when their relationship had deteriorated and they’d both been angry, but Darryl was seeing someone he liked now and Eve was just glad to be able to end things properly. The last thing she wanted was to make life more difficult for him; he didn’t deserve that.