I was considering taking some time off to go to New Zealand. I had a friend there, she used to be my dental nurse in Edinburgh and she was forever inviting me over. If I liked it, I could work as a hygienist in New Zealand. They accepted the British hygiene qualification; I wouldn’t have to sit any exams. The fact that it was on the other side of the world, away from everything and everyone that reminded me of John Kelly, was especially appealing. I didn’t need a constant reminder of what I’d nearly had.
I chose not to elaborate on my plans. Instead, I shrugged and drank the scalding hot liquid.
Three cups later, my mum gestured to the phone in my hand and asked, ‘Are you ever going to switch that thing on?’ I’d been flipping it over from one hand to the other as I contemplated my options.
‘I’m not sure to be honest. I considered throwing the damn thing out to sea and starting from scratch again.’ I actually managed a tight-lipped smile at the thought. The first in three days.
We walked the length of Ryde Beach, all the way to Seaview and back again, stopping outside a small beach front café for coffee. Christmas music taunted me again. If I had to hear one more word about George Michael’s broken heart I was going to scream. He wasn’t the only one who’d been hurt. Tinsel and fresh holly wreaths mocked me. I couldn’t bear to even look at them, opting to sit outside with our coats on.The morning was blustery but bright. The great outdoors was the only thing soothing my soul, and my mother knew it. I guessed she was trying to heal me discreetly. The great outdoors promised endless opportunity; the wide-open sky, grey or blue, the crashing waves, the oceans that extended into each other washing up anything in its path. It signified freedom, and the minute possibility of hope.
For a few short seconds before that overwhelming sinking sensation of loss attempted to drown me again, I felt maybe one day, there could be life again after John. It was a brief, but it was there, far far away on a horizon I didn’t recognise and didn’t like the look of.
I still couldn’t face the thought of telling the girls, but I’d have to bite the bullet and send out a group message. I couldn’t be doing with going over it again and again. I’d say it once and that would be it. I contemplated going sick from work until Christmas, at least that way my notice would be up and I wouldn’t have to face anyone, colleagues or patients. It was cowardly, and not how I wanted to leave, but I couldn’t go in jolly and pretend my world hadn’t been turned upside down.
That afternoon, I was brave enough to switch the phone on. I was immediately bombarded with eighty-two text messages, two hundred and forty-three WhatsApp messages and endless amounts of Facebook notifications. I wouldn’t have bothered, only I was supposed to be in work the next day. It was never going to happen. The only company I could stick right now was my mother’s, and I was under no illusion anyone other than her could stick me right now.
John’s messages relentlessly flew through.
Phone me girl. I can explain. Please ring me Lucy.
I love you.
I can’t believe you won’t even hear my side of the story.
That one particularly irritated me, as I didn’t realise there was any story to tell in the first place, because he didn’t willingly volunteer it. I’d have far more respect for him if he did. I thought we had been honest with each other from day one, but I’d been wrong.
I had about fifteen messages from the desperate housewives, Jane and Trisha as they had been irrevocably nicknamed.
Jane: Are you okay?
Trisha: Call me. Please just let me know you’re safe.
At that second the phone rang in my palm, the shrill tone sent me flying a foot into the air with fright. John’s name flashed in front of me alongside a picture of his perfect face. I hit the red decline button, which alerted him to the fact that he knew I was actually looking at the phone. It would have been safer to turn it off again, but I had one person to call first.
I waited for a split second between incoming bombarding calls and rang Clara. She answered on the second ring.
‘Lucy? Are you okay?’ I shouldn’t have been on the missing list yet, but Clara’s tone was heavy with concern.
‘I’m okay,’ I mumbled, forcing a cough. ‘Just wrecked and run down after everything. I won’t make it into work tomorrow, I’m afraid.’ I coughed again, for effect.
‘Lucy, please come in tomorrow. I know what happened,’ she added sympathetically.
‘You know nothing, Clara,’ I assured her. ‘And I don’t want to talk about it. My resignation stands. I’m going to New Zealand for a few months.’ My mother looked on with raised eyebrows. I had neglected to mention my plan to her.
‘New Zealand?’ she shrieked, and a familiar male voice spoke in the background.
‘New Zealand?’ his voice was cracked, tinged with despair. ‘For God’s sake, do not let her go to New Zealand.’ I’d place that accent anywhere. It used to sound like home. Now it made the hair on my arms stand on end, and not in a good way.
‘What is he doing there with you, Clara?’ I thought I was let down before, but this seemed even more of a betrayal.
‘He turned up at work this morning and refused to leave. I told him you weren’t due in until tomorrow and he said he’d wait. I didn’t think he meant it literally, but he’s been sat in the waiting room for the entire day. As I locked the practice up, he was planning on waiting outside for you until the morning. He’d freeze Lucy. What was I supposed to do? He actually booked himself in as a new patient for four cancellation appointments tomorrow.’
‘Did he tell you what he did?’ I asked her icily. A roaring rage had begun to grow inside me, anger replacing the hurt. How dare he inflict himself on my friends and assume the role of the wronged?
‘No, Lucy. I didn’t ask, it’s none of my business. He said there was a massive misunderstanding, that you jumped the country, Luce. You didn’t even give him the chance to explain.’
‘There aren’t enough explanations to excuse the bare truth. Tell John Kelly he can wait there day and night, I won’t be coming. And please tell Maria I’m truly sorry. I’ll have a sick note faxed to her in the morning. I have no intention of returning before Christmas, after which my resignation will be in full force.At least if he took four appointments, there will be less patients to call and cancel in the morning.’
‘Wait,’ Clara and John said simultaneously as I hung up the phone and switched it off.
