It was as if the executioner had stayed his axe, and Ted’s sigh of relief was audible.
‘Thanks for understanding. Have fun in…’ He screwed up his eyes.
‘Midwinter. Thanks, Ted. Have a good time in Vilamoura. I hope you don’t get rain.’
He grinned at me and then dashed over to my side of the bed, bending down to plonk a kiss on the top of my head.
‘It’s been great, Lucy.’ He winked. ‘See you around.’
I gave him a small smile. ‘Yeah. Whatever. Please make sure the front door is locked behind you. I’m going back to sleep.’
I turned off the light and snuggled down beneath my duvet, keeping my eyes open until I heard the front door click shut.
But when I closed my eyes, I couldn’t get back to sleep. I had known things weren’t going that well between us over the last few weeks, but I hadn’t wanted to end our relationship. I had been trying to save it.
Ted was right though. It was probably for the best.
I wasn’t sure how I felt.
Certainly not heartbroken. I had only experienced that once.
A little sad, perhaps.
I puffed out a long sigh as it dawned on me that, once again, I had been unlucky in love. And once again, I was single.
Would I ever find someone who truly loved me? And someone I truly loved in return.
Five
Ihad a bit of a hangover the next day, and was also tired from a lack of sleep, so when Mum told me I could have the afternoon off, I jumped at the chance. I had told her about Ted and me splitting up and although she said she was sorry, she hadn’t seemed that surprised.
‘You’ll know when you meet the right one, my darling,’ she said, turning the sign on the shop door to say ‘closed’. We shut the bridal shop for half an hour each day from twelve-thirty till one, because Mum believed a work-life balance was important. And yet she always checked the online orders while eating her sandwich, or her salad, or whatever she was having for lunch that day. ‘Ted obviously wasn’t Mr Right.’
I followed her into one of the back rooms where we had a kitchenette, a small circular table and two chairs, plus a two-seater sofa.
‘Did you think Dad was the right one?’ I asked, after a moment or two as I filled the kettle to make tea.
She shrugged and smiled, taking her tuna sandwich from the fridge, and placing it on a plate on the table.
‘I was only fourteen when I met him and all I could think about was how handsome he was. He looked like an angel with his golden blond hair and green eyes. When we married, I wasn’t grown up enough at sixteen to realise that he was the type of man who would find marriage and things like mortgages and other responsibilities, boring. He tried his best, but I’m surprised we stayed together for as long as we did after you left for uni. He only did that for you.’
I loved my dad, and I knew he loved me, but it had taken a while for me to forgive him for telling Mum he wanted a divorce. Since they divorced, he’d had several girlfriends but no one serious. Mum on the other hand, had remarried. My stepdad was a lovely man named Chris.
‘And Chris?’ I queried.
Mum’s smile said it all. ‘I knew from the moment he touched my hand.’ I’d heard the story of how they met, many times, but I never tired of hearing it. ‘We were in Sainsbury’s and we both reached up for a jar of olives that were on the top shelf. I couldn’t quite reach, so, like the gentleman he is, Chris handed me a jar, and his fingers brushed mine. It was like a bolt of electricity and we just stood and stared at one another. Until someone else wanted to get to the olives. We smiled at each other and then I turned and walked away, but he came after me and asked if he could buy me a coffee. It was only later that he realised he hadn’t got a jar of olives for himself. So yes. I knew he was Mr Right from that very first moment.’
That’s exactly how I’d felt when I’d met Sam. And I’d experienced a similar bolt of electricity the first time Sam’s hand had brushed against my skin. But I’d never told Mum that.
Even after all these years, I hadn’t told her how much I’d loved Sam. She knew I’d met him on the very first day of that holiday, ten years before, of course, and that we were seeing one another.Sam and I had spent almost every moment of that week together so someone would have had to be blind not to know that.
She’d asked me one evening if I was “being careful” and told me that, if I wanted to talk to her about anything, anything at all, I could. But the only person I told was Erin. I’d phoned or texted or video-called her every day.
And when Sam broke my heart, the day we left Fairlight Bay, I hadn’t told Mum. I’d said I’d caught a cold, which was why my eyes were running, and then I’d spent most of the following week in my room. Erin had visited me every day and hugged me while I’d cried. Moving so far away from Erin, when Mum, Dad, and I went to Aberdeen, had been almost as devastating. Except I still spoke to Erin every day. I never spoke to Sam again.
‘Is this anything to do with that boy?’ Mum asked me once or twice.
‘Him? Oh no. That was just a holiday fling.’ It tore my heart to shreds just to repeat Sam’s words, but Mum had seemed convinced.
