‘There’s a lot we don’t know about each other any more, Pete.’
He smiles. ‘I know you like yellow roses. They’re your favourite.’
‘No, Pete, they’re yours. You felt red roses were too expensive and could get yellow ones for half the price and have bought them ever since. I like sunflowers and poppies.’
He falls silent. Then: ‘When shall we tell the children?’
‘Let’s tell them in the morning, shall we?’ I say.
‘What about other people?’
‘I bet no one will even notice I’ve gone.’
‘That’s not true!’
‘Tell them the truth. I’m having “a life pivot”. That’s what they call them, these days.’
‘Life pivot, right,’ he says, and stands very still.
I kiss him on the cheek as a best friend would do.
‘Will you come back in with me?’ he asks. ‘Share our last evening together, so to speak?’
I smile and nod, tears in my eyes.
He takes my hand and leads me back into the golf club where Maddie and Jake beckon us to their table with their partners and Fridge says, over the microphone, ‘And now we’re going to start the quiz.’
I wish I had quietly slipped away. This party isn’t for me. It was about trying to hold on to what we once had. But that’s okay, I tell myself. We should celebrate what we had. This is one last night as the old Jules. I’m already feeling lighter, freer. Tomorrow I will no longer be Mrs Juliet Townley. I will be whoever I want to be.
A huge wave of excitement and a happiness I haven’t experienced in a long time floods me. I may not look like the younger me any more, but something inside me feels it. And Ilike it. I regard my family around me, all about to spread their wings, and smile as they battle over quiz questions, cherishing the laughter and knowing that, from tomorrow, everything will change. Tomorrow is the start of a new chapter for us all.
Chapter 2
Everything seems to happen very quickly. We speak to Maddie and Jake over toast and tea in the morning, the eggs and bacon I was going to cook all but forgotten as Pete helps me explain that, as much as we love each other, we want different things in life. He wants to stay put and buy a La-Z-Boy chair, and I want to go and explore opportunities in France. We explain to their shocked faces that no one else is involved.
‘Mum and I still care very much about each other, which is why we want each other to be happy,’ he says.
‘But you’re Mum and Dad!’ ripostes Maddie.
‘Yes, but we’re also Jules and Pete,’ he says, surprising me by explaining so well. ‘And now, more than ever, we have to find out what makes us happy and go for it.’
‘And you’re going now, are you?’ asks Jake.
‘I am,’ I say. ‘No time like the present. I’m going to do it while I’m still feeling brave enough. Otherwise I’ll get cold feet.’ I smile, nervous as a kitten. ‘I’ve packed. Your dad’s loaded the car for me. We booked the Eurotunnel online. And I’ll be staying in Kent this evening. I’ve booked an Airbnb. Really close to the tunnel port. I’ll be driving onto the train and driving off in France. And Dad’s sorted out my satnav, loaded my journey, so I shouldn’t get lost.’
It’s all happened in such a rush. But now I’ve said it out loud, I just want to get going. I don’t want to lose my nerve. But I can hardly believe what I’m saying, let alone explain it. It’s just something I have an urge to do, to take my chance while I can.But now I’m suddenly gripped by fear. What if this is just a stupid wobble? What if I get there and want to come home? And just as I’ve thought it, Pete says, ‘And if Mum wants to come home at any time, that’s what she’ll do. This is her home, as well as yours, for as long as you and she need it.’
I couldn’t be more grateful for everything Pete has done for me and given me in our twenty-five years together. And right now, whether he really wants it or not, he’s giving me the best present of all, understanding why I need to go, and why we’re not Jules and Pete any more. I’m just Jules. That feels very scary – and exhilarating.
I hug them one by one as we stand by the car, packed with pillows and a duvet that Pete insists I’ll need when I finally move into my own place, even though I’ll be staying in B&B for a while, and the French have supermarkets where I can buy stuff. I take them anyway because it’s thoughtful of him and he insists.
I promise to let them know how I’m getting on during the journey and to message when I arrive. And not to talk to strangers! We manage a teary laugh and then, with a final wave, a slam of the car door and a toot on the horn, I’m off. Just me, just Jules, driving away from everything and everyone I’ve known and loved, with hugs, love and blessings from them all. Tears fill my eyes, so just down the road I pull into a layby and let them fall to clear my vision. I could just turn back and say it was a mistake and I’m too scared to go. Then a message pings through on my phone. It’s Annie:This is amazing. I’m so proud of you! Live your life! You only have one!
I sit and look at the message on the screen, and take a deep breath. I send a quick one to the family WhatsApp group to make them smile:Got to the end of the road! On my way!And get smiley faces back. Even from Pete, who rarely uses more than one word at a time:Safe journey. Good luckx. And now, although it will take time for this new ‘normal’ to settle in, Iknow it’s the right thing to do. My purpose returns to me. I put the car into gear and set off, back to where I need to be right now. Excitement begins to grow. I have sunglasses on, the window open, Dolly Parton playing, and I’m heading south. It feels strange. Strange, but thrilling. I feel alive.
After an overnight stay in an anonymous hotel somewhere near Folkestone, where only a month ago we’d been to start our holiday, I’m here on my own. It’s 1 April, and I’m making the Eurotunnel crossing. This is so surreal it almost feels like a joke. I remind myself it’s not. It’s very much real. And a very long way from where I was in life this time last year, wondering if I had a future at all.
On the train I check my messages.
