‘Bloody coward!’ she shouts aloud, kicking the corner of the coffee table and instantly regretting it, hopping on the spot and sloshing her wine. ‘Bloody coffee table. Bloody toe! Bloody Max!’
She starts to cry as she swears, hot, angry tears sliding downher face, making her feel even angrier. She doesn’t cry. She’sstrong.
Her phone buzzes in her pocket and she pulls it out of her pocket, seeing Max’s name glowing on the screen.
I’ll come back for the rest of my things tomorrow. I’ve covered this month’s rent, but if you want to stay in the flat, you’ll need to start covering everything yourself. I’m sorry it ended like this x
Her hand finds the bottle of wine and she fills her glass again. She takes a long sip, the slight numbing sensation that follows a welcome relief.
If you want to stay in the flat, you’ll need to start covering everything yourself.
Shit. The flat is hardly pristine – neither of them had the time to keep it particularly tidy – and she has never got around to painting, despite their landlord’s insistence that they could make the place their own. But it’s still home. She loves the view out over the high street to the valley and river beyond. And there’s a squishy sofa and a comfy bed to flop onto at the end of a long day. The flat has always felt like her safe place and she doesn’t want to leave. But how is she going to manage to cover everything by herself? So much for a bloody holiday!
As she slumps onto the sofa, her phone rings. As she sees her mum’s name, she suddenly remembers she promised she would ring back to speak to her nan. But she’s in no fit state to speak to anyone right now. Her face is covered in eyeliner and snot and there’s a high chance her tongue is already purple from the red wine. She cancels the call, turning her phone on to silent and placing it face down on the coffee table.
Briefly, she considers the techniques she would advise to her patients if they were in a state like this. She could do a body scan, checking in with how she’s feeling in an attempt to get out of her head and into the sensations of her body. But all she can focus on is the throbbing of her toe. She could try box breathing or a visualisation exercise, or, shit, even someactualexercise.
But she doesn’t do any of that. Instead, she takes another big swig of wine. Who needs mindfulness when you have Cabernet Sauvignon?
The sound of banging suddenly rises up from the shop below, making her jump.
‘Not again!’
The noise continues, the bangs followed by whirring and the beat of the radio.
‘It’s the middle of the night! Who does building work at night?’
She considers striding downstairs to confront whoever it is who has moved into the premises and clearly has no respect for others, but she can’t be bothered, so stamps her foot on the floorboards instead. It doesn’t make a bit of difference. Wine. Wine will help.
By the end of the fourth glass, everything feels softened, even the sound of the building work below no longer bothering her. A lovely warmth flows through her body. By the end of the bottle, she is fast asleep.
CHAPTER 9
The smell of apple blossom tickles Kate’s nose as she stands beneath the tree in her garden, watching the sun set over the valley beyond. There are bees and butterflies circling lazily around the messy flower beds, landing on the petals of foxgloves, delphiniums and wild, rangy roses. It’s in moments like this that she remembers why they moved. The sight of fields and trees in the distance calms her, quietening the questions that have been swirling around her mind ever since her mum and sister left.
‘Kate, where’s Rosie?’
Jay’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts. She looks up as he crosses the garden towards her, coming from the direction of the studio where he has been working all day. His anxious expression jolts her.
Rosie. She realises that standing under the apple tree feeling the evening sun on her face, she hadn’t been thinking about her at all.
‘She’s in her Moses basket inside, I just stepped outside for a second to …’
Why did she come out here? And was it really only a second ago? She suddenly realises she has absolutely no idea how much time has passed since Erin and Miriam said goodbye. After they’d left she had pinged a quick message to her Work Wives group:How’s it going there?
But there’d been no reply. They were probably busily making calls and typing at their desks, or heading out if the breaking story required field research. With no response from her friends, she had left her phone on the kitchen table next to the Moses basket where Rosie lay fast asleep. She had only stepped outside to catch her breath. But guilt rips through her now. How did she let herself get so lost in thought that she completely forgot about Rosie?
Jay is already heading in through the kitchen door and Kate follows anxiously. But Rosie is fast asleep in her Moses basket on the kitchen table, just where Kate left her. As they step inside, she stirs, though, and Jay reaches swiftly to lift her up to his chest, cupping her bottom in his hand and nestling her in against his shoulder. Kate watches, thinking how it looks as though Jay’s shoulder was made for this. How the two of them fit together perfectly.
‘How were your mum and sister? Sorry I didn’t come and say hi, I got totally caught up sanding the floorboards.’
‘They’re OK, thanks. Erin left us food and Mum hoovered.’
Jay smiles above the top of Rosie’s fluffy head. ‘Of course they did.’
‘Mum mentioned a mum and baby group she’s seenadvertised in the village. I might take Rosie tomorrow morning while you’re on your shoot.’
The way Jay’s face lights up makes something inside Kate ache.
