It had been over a week since Charlie had found out about Javier. Tasha hadn’t heard from him since he had left the house on Sunday. She had hoped that he might get in touch after reading her letter, having realised how genuinely remorseful she was, but maybe her words hadn’t expressed her feelings accurately enough. Besides, Charlie had always preferred actions over words. It was wishful thinking on her part that a heartfelt letter could do anything to rectify the damage her actions had caused. She had never felt so powerless.
On Wednesday evening the house phone rang. Hoping it would be Charlie, Tasha practically fell over herself in her rush to pick up the receiver in the kitchen.
‘Hello?’ she said.
‘Hi.’ Charlie’s voice echoed down the line. God, how she missed him.
‘Hi, Charlie, how are you?’ she asked, cringing at the formality between them.
‘I’m OK.’ There was a pause. ‘I read your letter,’ he said.
‘Oh…’
‘I think we should talk.’
Tasha’s heart skipped a beat. She felt a wave of relief flood through her. ‘I’d love that,’ she said. ‘When?’
‘I’m away this weekend – in Zurich, remember?’
‘I know,’ she said. It was in their shared calendar. ‘How about tomorrow?’
‘I can’t do tomorrow. Next week though. Tuesday?’
‘OK,’ she said, immediately wondering why he couldn’t do the following day, what he might be doing, who he might be seeing. ‘Do you want to come here?’
‘Not really.’ She knew he wouldn’t want to run the risk of bumping into Javier.
‘How about I come to you, then?’
‘We can make a plan next week.’
‘I’ll see if Nina can look after the children.’
There was an awkward silence. She couldn’t bear how different their attempts at communication were these days.
‘Are the kids around?’
She took the handset back into the sitting room and passed the telephone to Flora, who chatted to her father before passing him onto Bella and then Max. As she listened to their conversations, Tasha tried to take comfort from the fact that he wanted to meet up. Perhaps all was not lost after all? She was praying that he would find it within him to forgive her enough to come on their family holiday the week after next. The thought of staying at their little rented cottage in Dorset without him was unbearable. They had first gone four years ago when Max was only two-years-old. Each summer since they had returned to the same place, building new layers of memories, getting to know the area better and better each time. Tasha hadn’t allowed herself to contemplate what she would do if he told her he didn’t want to come. The children would be heartbroken, and so would she. Once again, her stomach lurched with guilt and the by-now-familiar panic that there was no way she could undo what she had done.
‘I wish Dad didn’t have to stay at work,’ Bella said later that evening as she tucked her in.
‘I know,’ Tasha said, feeling even worse than usual as she kissed the top of her head. ‘It’s rubbish, isn’t it?’
‘And he said he’s on a business trip this weekend.’
‘Poor Daddy. He’s working very hard.’
‘I think we all better be extra good next time he comes home,’ Bella said. ‘Maybe we can make him breakfast in bed?’
‘That’s a lovely idea.’ Tasha felt overwhelmed with emotion. ‘What a kind thought.’ She could only hope that Bella would get the chance.