‘And did you manage to finish the book and send it off?’ Ridiculously, it still feels likemyjob,myresponsibility. It’s like being trapped in a too-tight garment in a changing room that you can’t pull off.
‘Um, not quite, but I’m almost there...’ He sounds calmer now, and more amenable. Perhaps he’s coping without me after all.
‘So, Zoe was okay about you missing the deadline?’ I start, but Vince leaps in.
‘Kate, I’m not worried about deadlines right now. I mean, it’s not my priority, okay? ’Cause I have other things on my mind, like you telling me yesterday that you weren’t coming home.’ He takes in an audible breath. ‘Did you mean it?’
My heart thuds hard. ‘I... I don’t know, Vince. I just haven’t been very happy lately. Well, for a long time. I’ve been miserable actually, for ages now. I’ve tried to talk to you but we never seem to get anywhere and I just can’t carry on—’
‘Can’t carry on with what? With me?’
‘Don’t keep shouting over me like this,’ I say firmly. ‘I’m trying to explain things. This is the problem, you see? I don’t feel listened to, or even seen. I’m like this floating ghostly thing, and I can’t—’
‘Just come home, Kate. Get the first train you can. Or I can come and get you—’
‘Vince, I’m not in—’ I start.
‘We’ll make things better,’ he announces. ‘I promise. Look, I’m sorry if you’ve felt taken for granted or whatever, or if I upset you by laughing about those chocolate things, the crispy dollops for the festival. They weren’t that bad.I’dhave eaten them—’
‘Vince, you wouldn’t!’
‘I would! Honestly. Well, if I wasstarvingI would...’ He snorts. ‘Who cares about baking anyway? It’s become like this competitive sport. You’re not very good at it, but you’re good at lots of other things, aren’t you? Like, um, er...’
‘Vince, this isn’t about my chocolate clusters,’ I say firmly, but he leaps back in.
‘Tell you what. How about I book you a half-day at a spa with a fluffy robe—’
‘What?’
‘A nice spa thing. Wouldn’t you like that? I could ring a few places, sort something for later this week, once the book’s finished. I can call right now. Shugbury Spa’s meant to be nice. Deborah said it was. She had a hot stone thing or something like that. Scorching rocks put on her naked bum—’
‘Vince, I don’t need hot rocks on my—’
‘I thought it’d be relaxing for you?’ he says, in awomen-there’s-no-pleasing-’emway.
‘And I don’t need to be told what Shugbury Spa’s like,’ I remind him sharply. ‘I work there, remember? At least I did...’
‘You mean you’ve quit?’
‘Yes!’
‘Oh. Right.’ A beat’s pause. ‘But this would be forleisure...’
‘Oh, would it? So I wouldn’t have guests complaining about finding a pubic hair in the shower?’ A man unloading a tray of loaves from a van spins round and smirks.
‘Go somewhere else then, if it’d be awkward,’ Vince huffs. ‘Just give me some ideas.’
I want to explain that women don’t want to have to ‘give ideas’ about gifts. They don’t want a bottle of handwash either, which is what he gave me at Christmas as if I was his Auntie Joan. But suddenly the signal’s gone, and when he calls back I ignore it. Now Alice is approaching with the dogs, her face breaking into a wide smile.
‘Gosh, you’ve been busy.’ She glances down at the bags. ‘Did you find everything you need?’
‘Yes, everything,’ I reply.
‘Great! Youareefficient, just like they said. Let’s head back then, and get started. Ready?’
‘Yep, I’m ready.’I can do this, I tell myself. I can be the Kate that Alice needs me to be. And as for Vince? He didn’t even get around to asking where I am.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
