“Do you want to divorce her?”
“Laura, trust me, I do.”
I turn to look at him and feel a flicker of hope. “Where is she now?” I ask.
“I left her with Dad. She was upset to see he’s got so frail.”
Reaching up for Ted’s hand, I’m unsure of what to say. Ted takes it, his fingers entwining in mine, and with the other, he slowly rubs my back.
“I know we haven’t known each other long, Ted, but”—I sigh—“well, someone like Belinda casts an intimidating shadow. She was the love of your life, your dad adores her, she’s so beautiful and—”
“And she broke my heart,” Ted cuts in. “She left me, without allowing me the chance to even discuss it.” He takes my hand in his and pulls it onto his lap. “Besides, I don’t believe you only get one chance at love in a lifetime, I hope not anyway.”
He pulls my face up to meet his and kisses me tenderly, and I feel how much he wants me to believe him.
“Look, things weren’t right in our marriage for a long time before she left. We both changed a lot in our thirties; we both hit this life junction, and we went different ways. When she left, I felt I’d failed her, failed us—but when we spoke on the phone on Saturday”—he pauses, thoughtful for a moment—“I realized I’d been clinging on to an idea, to two people who don’t even exist anymore.”
“That makes sense,” I say quietly, trying to sound mature and understanding.
“But still the sad face,” he says, needling his chin into my shoulder.
“I’m just—I’ve never felt like this before and I’m jealous that you have.”
“I’ve never felt like this either,” says Ted, turning to hold me by both shoulders. “How could it be the same? Laura, from the moment you got into my cab and shouted at me, I’ve done nothing but think about you.” I cringe at the memory, but smile despite myself. “Like it or not, you do make the world a prettier place for me, and when we started talking in the car, well—it was kablammo central for me.”
I smile up at him because he’s saying all the right things.
“I think for me, it was when I saw you coming out of the sea in your wet clothes.”
“Oh, so you’re just after my body rather than my sparkling conversation, are you?”
“Am I allowed to say I enjoy both?”
And then he kisses me again and I don’t have any more doubts.
Chapter 32
The next morning, I wake to find an empty space in the bed next to me. I walk up to the main house, wearing one of Ted’s shirts as a nightgown, hugging it around myself against the cool wind coming up from the sea. I assume Ted must be doing a last bit of cleaning in the house. The skip is being collected this morning, and then he’s handing the keys over to the estate agents this afternoon.
There’s a smell of fresh coffee coming from the kitchen, and I find Ted in the living room, looking at the memory cabinet, which he’s hung on the wall. I move to stand next to him, and he puts an arm around me, then notices I’m wearing his shirt.
“Do you ever wear your own clothes, Laura?” he asks, a teasing smile on his lips.
“Not if I can help it,” I say, resting my head on his shoulder. “You hung it up.”
“I wanted to see what it looked like. It fits perfectly here.” He points out what he’s put into each compartment: his mother’s scent bag, the hair slide Gerry picked out as one of the memories he had of his own mother, a piece of sea glass, a snuffbox his grandfather James brought back from the war, and even an old collar tag with Scamp’s predecessor’s name on it.
“I didn’t know what to put in for Dad. I thought maybe his old guitar pick—something to symbolize all the things he used to take joy in under this roof.” He opens one of the small doors in the cabinet, and there’s a miniature gin bottle inside.
I look sideways at Ted and realize he’s Benjamin Buttoned on me again; I swear with his bright eyes and his bed-ruffled hair, he’s verging on early thirties now. Just looking at him makes my stomach drop. My body feels like a sunflower, drawn toward the sun.
“Perfect. I’m glad you like it,” I say, wrapping an arm around his waist.
“Knock knock,” comes a voice from behind us, and we turn to see Belinda standing in the porch, her hair cascading over her ridiculously attractive shoulders. She’s wearing a silk tiger-print kaftan over jeans so skinny they could be chopstick holders. My balloon of happiness instantly turns into a bowling ball and hits the ground with a thud.
“I thought you’d left?” I find myself saying, trying to pull Ted’s shirt down to cover my luminous white thighs.
“Grrrr,” says Belinda, making cat paws with her hands, “you’re jealous, that’s good, it means you like him.”
I have never felt such a strong desire to wrestle another woman to the floor and strangle her with her own ridiculously expensive-looking kaftan.
“Bell, don’t,” Ted says, taking a step toward her.
“It’s OK, I’m on my way to the airport, I’ve done what I needed to do here.” Belinda looks serious for a moment. “I’m pleased I got to see Gerry, and I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. I won’t leave it so long next time.”
What, she’s coming back? She disappears for years, not a trace, and now she’s planning her next visit like some tanned, toned specter. She’s going to be like that scary girl in The Ring, showing up whenever I’m half naked, just to show me how much browner her legs are than mine. The disappointment must show on my face, because Belinda turns to me with a sharp smile.
“Don’t worry, little bear, I won’t be getting in your way.”
“Why are you calling me little bear?” I ask, giving her my best Paddington Bear stare.
Belinda gives me a cryptic smile. “It’s your inner animal.”
“My what?” I ask. She sounds as though she’s quoting Tiger Woman.
“Laura, don’t engage with this—” Ted starts to say, but I bat him away with a wave of my hand.
“No, I want to know.”
“Well,” says Belinda, inviting herself in and pacing around the empty room, “I am a tiger, Ted here is a bear, as are you, so you see you two are far better suited; your auras match. You’ll enjoy doing beary things together.”
“I’m not a bear,” I say, through narrowed eyes. “If it’s my ‘inner animal,’ I get to choose, and I don’t want to be a bear. I’ve read Tiger Woman too, you know.”