Page 36 of Coming Home
Shit, did I really just say that?
‘Are you dumping me, at Christmas?’
Leonora rolled her eyes and rubbed her forehead, exasperated. ‘No, I’m breaking up with you on a Friday in December. Christmas has nothing to do with it and I’m not being held to ransom because of one day, okay!’
‘No, it’s not okay, Leo. We’re getting married. What will your mum say? She’s been planning it for ages and what about the garden centre, and my job? Your mum respects my advice and one day I’ll be part of the team there. You know this, we’ve talked about it. You can’t just cut me off like this. And I am part of the family, I’m your fiancé.’
It was right at that moment when Leonora really saw her and Caspar for what it was. He wasn’t interested in her, not really. She was his foot in the door, an appendage, a side dish of fries, or onion rings, or–
‘Are you listening to me, Leo?’ His voice brought her back to earth with a bump.
‘Yes, and I’m sorry, Caspar. I didn’t mean to tell you like this. That’s why I wanted to see you tonight, so I could tell you face to face.’
When he spoke his anger seemed to have abated and nice, cajoling Caspar had returned. She should have known he wouldn’t take it lying down, it wasn’t in his nature. He always had to have the last word.
‘Listen, we can sort this. It’s just a blip. You’ve been working too hard and I’ve been neglecting you, I can see that now so I’ll come to yours later, pick you up and take you for a nice meal. My treat. I know, we’ll go to that Michelin place and you can steal ideas for your restaurant.’ When his fake laugh received no response he ploughed on. ‘You just need a bit of pampering and a bottle of the best champagne while we talk things through, see where we can make changes. That’s all it takes, compromise and understanding.’
‘No, Caspar. See, you’re doing it again, telling me how it’s going to be, controlling me. And I’m not a child who you can bribe with treats so for once, do as your told. I’ve already said that I don’t want you to come round and you totally ignored me so I suggest you give me some space for a few days and then maybe we can talk, on the phone. There will be things to sort out, like the money for the wedding – you’ll want your half back.’
Silence.
Leonora waited for a response as she stared at the cold-hearted woman in the shop mirror, with her black plaits popping out from her bobble hat, huddled into a green parka with its big shoplifting pockets, a thought that made her glance at the security guard who was actually looking the other way now. Maybe he’d heard her conversation and realised that corners of shops weren’t just for sticking things down your knickers, and that boyfriends weren’t forever or for Christmas. Unless they were called Caspar who just wouldn’t give up.
‘Christ! Have you been planning this? Because it sounds like you have. I can’t believe you’re being so callous, Leo, please. At least give me a chance to put this right. I’m sorry but I won’t take no for an answer. I’ll be at your mum’s in an hour. I’ll meet you there, then we can sort this out. Look, I have to go. I’m late for a client. I love you, Leo, I really do. See you soon, okay.’
When the call disconnected, Leonora stood wide-mouthed, staring at her reflection and it was only when she realised that she looked stupid she snapped her mouth shut and herself back to reality as her temper flared. How dare he railroad her into a meeting at her own home! That’s why he’d cut her off, so she couldn’t object. Well, she wasn’t having it. Swiping the screen she scrolled to his name and fired off a text. In capitals.
DO NOT COME TO MINE. I WON’T BE THERE. IT’S OVER. THERE IS NOTHING MORE TO SAY. STAY AWAY. I MEAN IT. I WILL BE IN TOUCH NEXT WEEK.
Emerging from the corner, Leonora made her way towards the exit and as she passed him by, received a nod and a kind smile from the security guard and in return, she gave him the thumbs up. ‘Have a happy Christmas, mate. Sorry if I stressed you out.’
Seconds later she stepped onto the street and sucked in the city air, embracing the chill and the wonderful feeling of being free. Looking upwards at the blue sky and winter sun, she imagined Granny Sylvia looking down and giving her a wink, or maybe a round of applause for finally getting rid of Shiny Suit. And while Leonora embraced the relief she took a moment to take stock and give herself a few words of advice.
She’d had a lucky escape and as much as she knew that Joel was the one, she was going to take things slowly, at her pace, follow her dreams and, if he was the man she thought he was, he’d be with her every step of the way. A bit like Bern had been with her mum; walking side by side, supportive, wanting the best for one another; not taking, manipulating, controlling.
Somehow she knew she’d be okay with Joel and with that thought in mind she set off on her way. Taking the route back to her car via the Christmas market she dodged pedestrians and soaked up the festive atmosphere of the stalls selling seasonal bits and bobs. Her thoughts then strayed to Sam. She wished she had his phone number so she could tell him he was right, that being honest with Caspar was the way to go, even if she had missed out the Joel element. And maybe she could ask him what the hell she was going to tell her mum about the wedding and if it would be wrong to ring Joel right there and then and not sound excited when she told him they could finally be together. She knew Sam wouldn’t have minded her asking for advice and not being able to made her feel odd.
Stopping by a stall selling mistletoe she read the sign, encouraging you to buy a sprig and make a wish and for the first time in a while a huge wave of sadness and longing swept in, consuming her right there on King Street. Trying to shake it off Leonora applied logic, telling herself it was merely a touch of stress-induced melancholy caused by dumping the stubborn boyfriend from hell.
The thing was, she missed Granny Sylvia so much it hurt. And knowing she couldn’t change that was worse and in times like these she wouldn’t have minded having a granddad. She would call in, have a brew and talk about what was going on inCorrieor what books they’d read. Because there was no doubt about it. If mistletoe wishes did come true she would ask for a granddad and one in particular. Leonora would choose Sam.
18
Rosina
Appleton Farm, Cheshire
Present day
The woodland trail car park was deserted, just as Rosina had expected it to be. Not even a dog walker to spot her sitting inside her people carrier and wonder why she was there, alone on a freezing cold day, staring out the windscreen. She’d surprised herself, actually managing to find her way, the state she was in.
The Herculean task of dragging herself out of bed and getting dressed was reminiscent of being drugged up on pethidine during labour with Max. She’d been so spaced out it was almost impossible to comprehend what the midwife was telling her to do yet somehow her body did what was needed.
It had been exactly the same this morning as she’d lain on the bed, watching the minutes of the bedside clock click over, her meeting with Norman getting closer, the walls closing in again and the whispers of her tormenters getting louder. She knew she had to go; the alternative didn’t bear thinking about. So through the fog in her head, a claggy, grey, dismal mist that made her muzzy and disorientated, she’d dragged off her pyjama bottoms and pulled on her jeans. Taking off the top was too much of an effort so instead she’d left it on and struggled into a jumper. She couldn’t remember going down the stairs, putting on her coat or leaving the house and it was a miracle that her depleted brain still had the capacity to change gear and drive in a straight line.
The day was bright and sunny but as she’d rounded the bend then pulled off the main road and drove along the short track to the car park, Rosina felt the mood darken, descending into gloom as the shade of the barren trees cut out the light. The forest beyond the parking area was dense and in contrast to the spring and summer months when it teemed with families and hikers, in the winter, alone, it seemed a desolate place. She could hear the odd car as it sped by. The main road was notoriously fast and a cut-through used by locals and speed freaks taking advantage of a rural, camera-free zone.
And there she waited for Norman to arrive, staring into the woods beyond her car, ignoring the buzz of her phone, another text, probably her mum checking to see if she felt better.
