Ginny set the track playing, wiped her cheeks and drank more coffee. Her phone vibrated and her stomach skittered when she saw Adrian’s name. She quickly lined up “Roar” by Katy Perry and answered his call off-air.
“You’re right,” Adrian said. “I spoke to someone at the travel agency. There’s no way to get the money back.”
“I know I’m right,” she said, dismayed he hadn’t bothered to say good morning to her.
“Are you still going to go?”
Ginny shook her head, overwhelmed by the rush of sadness she felt. “I don’t want to go alone,” she said stiffly. “I can’t think of anyone else to invite...”
“We can’t let the holiday go to waste. There’re only a few hours left to amend the booking. Can’t Phoebe and Pete use the tickets for their honeymoon?”
“A honeymoonbeforea wedding? What a great idea,” she said, more sarcastically than she intended. Her brain felt floaty and sporadic tears kept escaping.
“I’m only trying to solve the problem, just like you always do,” he snapped.
Ginny couldn’t remember ever feeling this low before. Perhaps she could forgive Adrian’s dating site presence if it was a one-off, something he’d done out of confusion or experimentation. They had a great marriage and he’d never given her any cause for concern before. He knew about all the trials and tribulations her parents had put her through, and he’d promised never to do the same thing. Ginny still saw her and Adrian’s troubles like a loose thread on a sweater. If you left it alone it might be fine. If you kept on pulling, everything would unravel. “It’d be silly to lose all the money,” she said. “Pleasecan we go to Italy together, to work on things—?”
Adrian cleared his throat. “I can use the tickets,” he said.
“What?Who would you take with you?”
“I’ll find someone...”
When she realized her husband was willing to go on holiday with someone else but didn’t have the time to go withher, Ginny reeled. “Have you met someone else? On the dating site?” she demanded.
Adrian didn’t speak for a while. “Forget it. It was just an idea.”
Ginny shook her head, wondering how her marriage had come tothis. They were acting like boxers in a ring, ducking, diving and jabbing. There wasno wayher husband was taking someone else on their anniversary holiday, to the castle hotel she’d booked, with the posh spa treatments and tennis courts. The thought made her shoulders shake. As Katy Perry sang about roaring, Ginny felt like doing the same thing. “Hold the line,” she commanded, placing the phone down so Adrian could still hear her. “I need to go back on air.”
As she looked at the listeners’ problems she’d jotted down, Ginny recognized she wasn’t a super human with all the answers. She was a real woman with real problems. Problems that were too big to deal with alone. Problems that were swelling inside her, fighting to get out. Her cheeks felt fiery and she was overcome by a rage that made her feel like she was going to explode.
The record stopped. Ginny opened her mouth and scrambled for something to say.
Seconds ticked away and frost seemed to crackle over her skin. The airwaves were silent.
Get a grip, Ginny. Inhale and exhale. Thousands of people are listening to you.
But her tongue was bone-dry. She couldn’t find any words.
Tam arrived and stood in front of the glass partition, gaping as Ginny sat there motionless and speechless. “What’s up?” she mouthed.
Ginny saw the disdain in her producer’s eyes. She heard Adrian shouting her name from her phone and felt like she was about to crack in two.
She wrenched the scrunchie out of her ponytail and shook out her hair. She unfastened the buttons on her jacket and then the one on the back of her skirt. She kicked off her shoes and pressed her bare feet against the carpet, needing to feel something solid.
Emails pinged into her inbox.
What’s happened to the music?
Do you know Talk Heart FM has gone off-air?
Are you okay, Ginny?
The last question made her cry. No listener had ever asked her that before.
No. She shook her head.I’m not okay.She felt she had more in common with the strangers who contacted her radio show than she did with her own husband.
Ginny remembered what she always told her callers, “It’s okay tonotbe okay,” and she took a deep breath. For once, she was going to lead by example.
