Simon comes over, pointedly removes the top of the buns, and throws a slice of cheese on each one.
“I don’t want cheese,” she snaps.
He takes it off again and tosses it on his own burger, and they glare at each other.
I turn on my heel and walk out, through to the bedroom I was staying in.
After lifting the case onto the bed, I start putting my bits and pieces into it. My previously positive mood has dulled. I was too harsh onJude for being afraid of our relationship mirroring Kim and Simon’s. I couldn’t see it before, but I understand his fear now. The pressure of having a baby has destroyed them. Can I really blame him for not wanting to walk down the same path?
“I’m sorry.”
I turn to see Kim standing in the doorway, resting her temple against the door jamb.
I force myself to smile. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not. You’re going through all this stuff with Jude, and Simon and I can’t even force ourselves to be civil to one another. I’m so sorry.”
I go over to her and throw my arms around her neck, and we have a big hug. When I eventually move back, we’re both sniffing and snuffling. “I’ll be fine,” I say, with more confidence than I’m feeling. I get my washbag from the bathroom and toss that in the case, then zip it up. “I’m going to get the rest of my stuff from the house now, and then it’ll all be done.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
“No, thank you. I’ll be fine.” I pull up the handle and wheel the case past her, out to the front door. I remember then that I was going to redo my makeup and freshen up, but it’s too late now; I don’t want to stay any longer than I have to. “Thank you so much for letting me stay for a few nights, I really appreciate it.”
She hugs me again. I look over her shoulder to Simon in the kitchen. He’s leaning on the kitchen counter, looking out over the garden, and his expression is unutterably sad.
I move back. “Will you do one thing for me?”
She wipes beneath her eyes. “Of course.”
“Sit down tonight and talk to each other. It might be that your marriage has gone too far to save, but I don’t believe that’s the case. Simon still loves you. Not everyone is that lucky. Think carefully about that.”
She looks over her shoulder at him for a long moment, then back at me. “All right.” She gives a brief smile. “Call me if you need anything.”
“I will. See you soon.” Pulling the case, I walk away, along the path.
I head off down the road, feeling as if I’ve gone through a mangle and emerged wrung out, limp, and creased. But I still have to go to the house.
It occurs to me then that I can’t pick up much stuff because I only have my case. I didn’t think that through. I’ve told Jude that I’ll be there, though, and I do want some more clothes. I’d like the bike, too. I wonder whether I can convince him to give me a lift up to the cottage?
Biting my bottom lip, I take the turn onto our road, walk up to the house, and go through the gate before I can chicken out. I hesitate at the front door, then ring the bell.
Ten seconds later, Jude answers it and stares at me. He has a red mark on his jaw. Shit, that’s where Archer hit him.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“I wasn’t sure whether to use my key,” I admit. “I don’t live here anymore.”
“It’s your house, Beth. Your name’s on the contract.” He walks into the house, leaving me to lift the case up the step and close the door behind me.
I follow him in, leave the case in the hallway, and go into the living room. With some surprise, I can see that he’s cleaned it. The room is free of plates and mugs, and he’s even tidied up the books and magazines.
He stands in the center, slides his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and hunches his shoulders. He looks around. “What do you want to take?”
I swallow hard. “I’m going to get some clothes.” I turn and go back out, run up the stairs, and walk into the main bedroom. The bed is unmade; clearly, he doesn’t mind sleeping in here now I’m not in here. That makes me bristle, and, newly energized, I take out the rest of my clothes and lie them on the bed before going into the spare room and finding another large bag and my backpack. I fill the bag with the clothes, add more of the bathroom items, including all my makeup, and a few other personal bits and pieces—jewelry, my headphones, the plushie I stand my phone on at night, my donkey that has a heat pack inside, some books, a couple of ornaments, my hairdryer.
When I’m done, I carry the case down the stairs, leave it next to my other one in the hallway, and go back into the living room with the backpack.
Jude is still standing there. I walk around him, picking up the occasional item. Only personal things—books, my knitting, my Kindle, anything I can see that is mine, rather than ours.
