‘It’s her birthday next week. A big one,’ mouths Hope in a stage whisper.
‘Oh, you must be forty, then, Bertha!’
‘Add two decades and you’d be spot on,’ she groans.
‘Well, you’re looking very good on it. You should be proud to be sixty.’
‘Ssh!’ She grimaces. ‘Don’t spread it around.’
‘Birthdays are a fabulous chance to spoil yourself, or let other people spoil you.’ I nudge her. ‘I bet Ron has something special planned.’
She snorts. ‘I doubt it. I keep dropping hints but I might as well save my breath to cool my porridge. The last time I had flowers from Ron was after he accidentally flushed my engagement ring down the toilet. Hardly a great romantic moment.’
‘Oh, no. Did you get it back?’ I ask horrified, glancing at the gold band on her finger. Then I shake my head. ‘Stupid question. Of course you didn’t.’
‘He promised to buy me a new one.’
‘Oh, well, there you are, then. When was this?’
‘Seven years ago.’
‘Ah.’
‘You should buy yourself a new ring,’ says Hope, disappearing into the kitchen. ‘I would.’
I glance at Bertha’s despondent expression. She tries to hide it with funny banter but I can tell it hurts.
‘You’re still together, though. You must love each other really.’
She shrugs. ‘I do love him, that’s the problem. I almost wish I didn’t because then I wouldn’t mind that he doesn’t seem to actually see me any longer. Like he used to.’
‘Has Ron ever been romantic?’
‘Oh, yes. When we were first married, he used to tell me all the time that I was gorgeous. He used to say I looked like the actress, Debra Winger. You probably don’t know who she is.’
I smile. ‘An Officer and a Gentleman?’
‘That’s her. No, Ron and I used to go dancing all the time, and he proposed over dinner at a fabulous hotel.’ She sighs, remembering. ‘Arcot Manor. Gorgeous place. Gorgeous memories. I keep saying it would be lovely to go back, even just for a drink in the bar, but…’ She shrugs. ‘Just ignore me. I’m fine.’
‘You should tell him you miss him; that you miss what you used to have together.’
‘I did, the other night. But he just grunted, rolled over and was snoring inside sixty seconds.’ She laughs and shakes her head. ‘Sorry. I think approaching the big six-oh has really got to me. It’s stirred up all these scary thoughts about what I’m actually doing with my life and how I need to make the most of the time I have left.’
‘Bertha! You’re sixty, not a hundred and five! You’ve got decades ahead to misbehave.’
She laughs. ‘I like that. Yes. Maybe I’ll give Ron a shock and get myself a toy-boy.’
‘Could you handle a twenty-year-old, though?’
‘God, no. Forties with own hair and teeth. And a large – um - wallet. That would do me fine.’ She winks and goes off to serve a customer.
Later, during my lunchbreak, I take a walk outside, along by the workshops. I tell myself it’s to clear my head and admire the daffodils that have sprung up in the woods, but deep down, I’m know I’m hoping I might see Matt. I thought he might come into the café the way he usually does for his morning coffee, but he didn’t appear today.
I keep thinking of running into him on the village green in Sunnybrook. How we were getting on so well, but then Jaxon snaked his arm around me and ruined the moment. I hate the fact that Matt probably now thinks Jaxon and I are an item. It’s been preying on my mind ever since that day. I need Matt to know that I’m not even friends with Jaxon, never mind with him in a romantic sense…
But the book-binding workshop is closed and there’s no sign of Matt’s car. If he doesn’t come into the café, the next time I’ll see him will probably be at the 10k on Saturday. If I can find a babysitter for Eva and drum up the energy to do it…
*****
It’s Friday – the day before the 10k – and I get off the bus at the top of the high street, and start walking along to collect Eva.
She’s already looking forward to her play-date tomorrow when Mr Taylor’s daughter has his grand-daughter, Jess, to visit. We arranged it when we had him over for Sunday lunch, which ended up being a really lovely afternoon.
For the play-date, I’ve provided Frozen 2 and Mr Taylor has got the pizzas and coke. Eva will be happy and well looked after, which means I’ll be able to give all my attention to the 10k and hopefully get around the course with a bit of jogging, but mostly walking.
I’m actually feeling in fairly good spirits today.
After shouting at Jaxon for taking Eva and finally accusing him of being the low-life that he is, I’ve been secretly dreading him taking some sort of twisted revenge on me for my public outburst. But as the days have passed, I’ve relaxed a little. I finally stood up to the bully. Perhaps, now that Jaxon’s realised I’m not the weak and vulnerable woman he thought I was, he’ll leave us alone…
I’m walking along, the school gates in my sight, thinking about the 10k and wondering if I should take a trip to my favourite charity shop and see if they have any suitable running gear. Anything would look better than my shabby, cobbled-together outfit, and –
I stop dead in my tracks, my heart pounding.
Jaxon.
He’s leaning against the wall by the gates, arms folded, watching all the mums and dads arrive to collect their children. He could be one of them, just a stay-at-home dad waiting for his kids to emerge before shepherding them home for beans on toast. Except I know differently.
A shiver runs through me.
Is he here to mete out my punishment for the scene on the green?
Feeling protected by the people everywhere, I take a deep breath and stride along the pavement towards him. He sees me approaching and stands up, as if ready for battle.
My heart is thudding fast as I approach and I feel sick. He stares at me, stony-faced, and my heart is in my mouth as I prepare for the inevitable confrontation. I know some of the parents milling about nearby and I’m desperate to avoid a scene here, outside Eva’s school of all places. I can feel my defences rising, even though I’m trying to remain calm as I walk right up to him.
We eyeball each other and the glint of malice in his eyes almost breaks me.
And then he smiles. Just like that. As if we’re friendly acquaintances accidentally bumping into one another. ‘Molly Hooper. Good to see you. How’s that little cutie of yours?’
I swallow. ‘Eva? She’s fine.’ My voice is steely. I know he’s after something. He wouldn’t be here otherwise.
‘Good. Well, I just came to tell you that in future, I won’t be bothering you. We’re landlord and tenant, and there are boundaries to be observed. I get that. I really do. I’m leaving you to get on with your lives.’ He shrugs cheerily. ‘So…that’s all I wanted to say.’
I stare at him, completely thrown off guard.
Is this for real? Can it be true?
For one glorious moment, my spirits lift.
Then he laughs. Nastily. Right in my face.
‘I’m joking! Did you really believe that’s why I’m here? Oh my God, you did!’