Page 119 of Love Letters on Hazel Lane

‘’Fraid so. He wasn’t nice to me either. I seem to have a habit of picking men who aren’t nice to me.’

‘I was nice to you. And I always will be.’

His words hung in the air between them. Jo wondered how to respond. How come she could think of the right words when it came to laying them on a board, maximising her points, working out how to use a tricksy letter like a Q or an X or a Z? But when it came to saying the right thing to the man she loved, once again, words quite literally failed her.

‘Let’s not talk about Tarquin,’ she said. ‘Let’s talk about happy things. My new job. The Scrabble club’s new venue.’

‘Yes, we should. Look, why don’t we do celebrate properly? Saturday night. Dinner somewhere posh. What do you reckon?’

*

‘I’m not sure it’s even a date,’ Jo said to Kate.

She still wanted to talk to someone about Sarah’s letter. She hadn’t managed to tell Razz the previous evening so had invited Kate over for a chat and a cup of tea. They were sitting on the sofa, now covered by a luxurious, red, velvet throw that Jo had decided to treat herself to. It had been expensive, more than she’d normally spend, but it brightened her little lounge up no end. But instead of asking Kate’s advice about the letter, Jo had found herself telling her about Razz.

‘Of course it’s a date. Posh restaurant. He’s picking you up.’

‘No, it’s a celebration. I found us a new venue for the Scrabble club.’

‘Just words, Jo. Semantics. Date. Celebration. The important thing is, the man you like…’

‘Love.’

‘Love already?’

‘Well, I think I’m falling.’

‘Okay, the man you lurve,’ Kate rolled her eyes but she was smiling, ‘is picking you up and taking you to a posh restaurant. You make yourself look good. You sparkle and twinkle at him all evening. You pick the right moment and you tell him how you feel. It can’t fail.’

‘I don’t feel that sparkly at the moment.’

‘We can sort your clothes. Go shopping. Find you a new outfit.’

‘No, I don’t mean that. I mean, inside I don’t feel sparkly. I’ve had this letter… Hang on.’

She stood up, went into her bedroom and rummaged in the drawer of her bedside table. She had hidden the white envelope at the bottom, hoping that by putting it out of sight, she’d be able to put it out of mind. But it hadn’t worked. She hadn’t been able to think of anything else.

She went back into the lounge and handed it to Kate. ‘Open it.’

‘You sure?’

‘Yes, please. Read it.’

She watched her friend’s face as she scanned down the page.

Kate sighed. ‘You’ve really been through it, haven’t you, Jo? I cringe looking back, thinking how I gave you all that silly dating advice.’

‘It’s fine. I wanted the dating advice. I wanted to meet someone.’

‘So what are you going to do about this? Are you going to agree to testify?’

‘I don’t know. I’m torn. I’m not sure I can face him across a courtroom. It would be my word against his. And he’s good at twisting the truth, at making people believe his version of events. He’s had a lot of practice.’

‘Is there anyone who’d corroborate your version of events? Anyone who witnessed what you were going through?’

‘Gemma did. I mean, he stopped me seeing her after she sent me an article about coercive control, not long after we got married. But she kept sending the articles. She still sends me articles – she likes articles as much as you like self-help books. I printed some of them off.’

Jo stood up and went to the bookshelves, pulled off a dusty pink cardboard folder and handed it to Kate.