“Well, what kind of a day have you had?”
“Busy but fizzy.”
“Ah. Right. Well in that case, maybe a nice sparkling rosé? How does that sound?”
“Like heaven. How’s Kitty?”
His already handsome face breaks out into a doting smile that makes him even more attractive. Wowzers.
“She’s fabulous! Not only did she sleep through last night, but this morning she rolled over all by herself!”
He couldn’t look prouder if his daughter had won a Nobel Peace Prize, and his happiness is so infectious it makes me grin.
“Amazing. She’ll be up and about before you know it, and then you’ll be in trouble.”
He pauses midway through pouring my drink and frowns. He’s obviously turning that idea over in his mind, and shakes his head as he says: “I know. We really need to sort our living arrangements out… I’m not sure a pub is the right place for a baby.”
“I shouldn’t worry too much. A pub is a fine place for a baby. Just make sure she’s not living in a pub when she’s fifteen.”
Jake nods, passes me my drink, and predictably enough refuses to take any money from me. We all kind of operate on a barter system here, and I can’t remember the last time I charged Ella for her coffee either.
I sip my drink, revelling in the slightly decadent sensation of doing a tiny bit of boozing in the afternoon, and find myself staring in the direction of the stairs that lead up to the guest rooms. Maybe he’s up there, I think. Maybe I should just take my drink back through with me, and go and knock on his door. That could be a lot of fun, and I’m very much in the mood for fun.
Jake notices me looking, and I have a brief moment where I panic in case he’s read my mind. Not that it would matter – we’re both single. We’re both adults. We’re both very much consenting. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, I know, but I’d still like to keep things as discreet as possible for the time being. Apart from anything else, our children might die of embarrassment if they found out.
He nods towards the stairs and says: “It’s a shame he had to leave early, isn’t it?”
I stare at him, wondering if I’ve been so distracted that I missed a conversational shift. Have we moved on from Kitty to something completely different?
“Sorry?” I reply. “What?”
“Zack,” he explains, frowning slightly as he looks at me. “He left a couple of hours ago. Checked out early, saying there was something he had to deal with at work.”
I blink several times in a row, and feel the world freeze around me. The sound from the jukebox fades into the background, almost as though someone has turned the sound down, and the noise of people chatting becomes a dull buzzing drone. I stare at Jake some more, and put my glass down on the counter.
“Oh,” I say, aiming for nonchalant but not at all sure I’m hitting the mark. “Right. He’s gone, has he?”
“Yep. Some kind of emergency he had to deal with at the office, he said. Connie, are you okay?”
The concern in his voice helps to snap me out of my reverie, at least long enough to pull myself together for a few seconds.
“All good, Jake, thanks. Just tired. Like I said, a busy day.”
He nods, but I can tell he’s not convinced. He’ll probably be yet another person reporting in on my emotional state to Ella. Luckily, one of the walkers arrives at the bar to order another round, which distracts him and gives me some much-needed space.
I take some deep breaths, and try to blink the confusion out of my eyes. Everything feels unreal and hyper-vivid, but at the same time blurred and out of focus.
Zack has gone. He has left Starshine. He has presumably driven back to London with Bear, without any explanation and any attempt at saying goodbye. I know that messages aren’t reliable here, but I’ve been in the café all day long – not exactly hard to find. If there was really a work emergency – and it’s hard to imagine that there was anything that couldn’t be sorted out on the phone – then there was no reason at all that he couldn’t simply call in and tell me.
I sip my rosé, my hands so shaky the liquid sloshes over the side of the glass, and revisit the way we’d left it the night before. We’d kissed on the doorstep after the girls had gone to bed. He’d asked if we’d see each other tomorrow, and I’d said yes, definitely – that it was ‘to be continued’. He seemed happy, eager, as pleased with the situation as I was. At least that’s how I interpreted it – could I be misremembering? Did I just hear what I wanted to hear? Have I rewritten the whole thing in my mind? I feel so uncertain that I think possibly I did. Because if I didn’t, then that makes his sudden disappearing act a callous and cruel way to behave, doesn’t it?
I feel tears stinging the back of my eyes and swipe them away. I am half angry and half sad, which is always a lethal combination for me when it comes to crying. I’m sad that Imisjudged him – that I took him as a decent guy – and I’m angry that he’s been so disrespectful. Even if he’d changed his mind, even if in the cold light of day he decided it wasn’t such a good idea, then I thought our friendship was strong enough that he would discuss it with me face to face, not just run away, leaving me feeling like this. Like an idiot.
I put my glass down again. It’s probably not a great idea to start drinking right now. Because added into the sad and the angry there is also a sprinkling of self-loathing – a little voice inside my own head saying: “I told you so.” Telling me I’ve been foolish to assume a man like him would be interested in a ‘to be continued’ with a woman like me. Telling me I’m a terrible judge of character. Telling me I was a fool to let myself get so carried away by something that he clearly saw as a mistake. I’ve been walking on sunshine all day after what happened between us, whereas he obviously woke up with so many regrets he left the county. Way to go, Connie – still got the magic touch.
I wave goodbye to Jake, and head outside. As I stroll around the green and back towards home, I can’t quite believe the change in mood – how different I feel walking in this direction to how I felt walking towards the inn only minutes earlier. I know I’m being stupid – I know I’m a grown-up and I’m tough enough to handle a little rejection – but I can’t help it. I feel deflated and down and a teensy bit humiliated. Nobody knows anything about it all other than me and him, so there’s no call for the humiliation – it’s still there, though, niggling away at me. I decide I will delete the dating app as soon as I have time. I suspect I was right all along – this dating business is not for me. I will go back to my nice, quiet, boring life, because at least it was safe.
I open the door, and pause in the kitchen for a moment. I can hear a racket coming from upstairs, which tells me that Dan is playing one of his shoot ’em up video games, and the soundof the television in the living room, which tells me the girls are probably here too. I put my game face on, and remind myself to smile before I walk in to greet them.
