He intended on fanning the flames of the spark that had been lit to see where it might lead him.
‘Another coffee?’ Lila waved her empty mug at Roxie.
Roxie pushed her sunglasses back on her head and frowned. They were sitting in Lila’s back garden enjoying the late February sunshine. The sounds of birdsong, someone playing classical music on a piano further along Sunflower Street and the squeaking of a rusty swing floated through the air, soothingly familiar. The air smelt of soil, a deep rich aroma, as if the earth was preparing itself for spring.
Behind the garden, fields stretched out for as far as the eye could see, and Lila often gazed out from her bedroom window at the greenery beyond, watching cows grazing, lambs frolicking and tractors rumbling over the bumpy ground. Of course, having farmland right behind her home provided Willy with the perfect hunting ground, which was why he had access to so many small furry creatures but every area had some drawbacks.
‘We’ve had three already, Lila, and it’s becoming a bad case of procrastination now. We really should get cracking on your bedroom.’
‘I know but it’s so nice out here.’
‘It’s a little suntrap, your garden.’ Roxie nodded. ‘I could easily sit out here all day but we do need to get on.’
‘Have you got plans tonight?’ Lila asked.
Roxie’s smile faltered.
‘No… unfortunately. It’ll be me and a good book, probably a bubble bath and a glass of wine.’
‘Fletcher out again?’
Roxie inclined her head. ‘Late business dinner, then he’s staying in London.’
‘Oh love, so sorry.’
Roxie shrugged. ‘It’s nothing new, is it?’
‘No, but… it must be hard sometimes.’
Roxie adjusted the scarf on her head, released a deep sigh then nodded. ‘It can be… hard, but I’ve had years to get used to it. I often think it would have been far worse if we’d had children because then they wouldn’t have seen enough of him. However, I also wonder whether, if we’d had children, then he’d have been around more often. Would he have had a reason to come home every evening, a reason to spend time with us at weekends, a reason…’ She fell silent and closed her eyes. ‘Well, what can you do?’ Roxie shook her head.
‘Roxie? You okay?’ Lila suddenly felt terrible for her friend. They rarely spoke about Roxie’s marriage in this much detail because Roxie usually brushed it off, laughed it away with a wave of her hand, a joke and a glass of wine. Being busy, being strong, acting as though it didn’t bother her was Roxie’s way of coping with the fact that she did, clearly, miss her husband and wish that things between them had been different.
Lila had known Roxie for years and never seen this vulnerability before. Or had she just failed to notice it because until Ben left, her own life had been reasonably happy and she’d felt secure? What had changed for Roxie that had let the walls she’d built around herself slip? Was it seeing Lila’s pain or was there something else going on?
‘Is there anything I can do, Roxie?’ Lila leant forwards and placed a hand over Roxie’s.
‘No, sweetie, I am absolutely fine. It’s your life we need to sort out.’
‘But you know I’m here for you too, right?’
Roxie nodded. ‘I do. Now… let’s get back inside and tidy up that bedroom. I do hope that Willy hasn’t hidden any more… gifts.’
‘Me too.’ Lila wrinkled her nose. ‘I’m horrified that he turned my bedroom into a rodent graveyard.’
Roxie stood up and held out a hand to Lila. ‘Come on then, no time like the present.’
They went back into the cottage and Lila resigned herself to the task that lay ahead, but not before she’d vowed to find out more about what was going on with Roxie and her marriage. She would do anything she could to help her friend. Anything at all.
Ethan had decided to head to the village pub that evening to enjoy a beer and to look over his plans. He had his laptop, a folder under his arm and a spring in his step.
The latter was strange, to feel something akin to hope. It was an emotion that had eluded him for so long that he was very aware of it and almost afraid of it in case it was a trick. Was it possible that his mind could be fooling him and at any moment it would all come crashing down and the fathomless darkness would return?
He paused outside the door of The Plough and considered his thoughts. Of course it was possible that this was just a flash in the pan, a candle in the wind, a positive moment that would soon disappear. But it was good to have a positive moment, even if it vanished as quickly as it had come. Wasn’t it a good sign that he was feeling some hope again?
It had to be a good thing.
He pushed open the door to the pub and entered the warmth that smelled of beer, chips and woodsmoke. He’d been inside so many times before and a host of memories washed over him, all linked to the familiar scents: coming here for a pint at seventeen, aware that the owner knew exactly how old he was and would never serve him while he was still underage, but asking for a pint anyway as it was a rite of passage. Bringing his mother here for birthdays and Mother’s Day, for the pub quiz and with Tilly that first time he introduced them many years ago. He’d been so nervous that day, worried that his mother might not like Tilly and vice versa, but they’d hit it off immediately and he’d been able to relax as the two women he loved had chatted like old friends. He’d heard horror stories from male friends about animosity between their mothers and girlfriends, about jealousy and insecurity that could arise, about trying to maintain calm and being stuck in the middle until they were forced to choose between their mother and their partner. Then there were other tales about his friends’ mother-in-laws and how they could never please them, how they’d always be struggling to prove they were good enough. Luckily for Ethan, his mother and Tilly got on.
As for Ethan’s mother-in-law, Tilly’s mother was sweet and kind, a practical woman who believed her daughter should make her own choices and be trusted to do so. It was why Tilly was such a strong and independent woman, Ethan felt sure. Her mother, Gwen, had instilled a sense of pride and ambition in Tilly that meant she would never need to be in a relationship, but would be able to choose to do so with a man she felt could be her friend, partner and equal. There had been times over the years when Ethan had found himself wishing that Tilly would seem to need him just a bit, or at least show him that she did, but he was full of admiration for her strength and independence, and even if she didn’t show him much in the way of vulnerability, she did show him that he was loved.
He went to the bar and ordered a beer from a young man he didn’t recognise, then took it over to a corner table close to the open fireplace where flames crackled and the warmth filled the air. It was a cosy, comforting space and some of the tension he usually carried around with him began to ebb away. He walked a daily tightrope of unease which meant that he was always conscious of when he was able to let go and relax.
Ethan placed his laptop, folder and beer on the table then removed his jacket and sat down. From here, he had a good view of the rest of the pub. There were a few people in, sitting at tables, enjoying an early evening drink and from the back room he could hear the sound of balls being hit with cues; someone was in there playing pool. He hadn’t played pool in years. Admittedly, he’d never been very good, but he still enjoyed a game. Hopefully he’d have a chance to play again now that he was home.