‘We could make a go of us you know. Be a family. Start again.’
Was he for real? It was like the things I’d just said had been erased from his memory somehow. ‘James, I am starting again and you need to move on too. The things you’ve done are unforgivable and you’re starting to feel the consequences. Now you’re lucky because you will get your second chance. You get to scrap “shallow tosser James” and become “James the father”.’ I cocked my head to the side. ‘That’s a pretty big deal and not something you deserve.’
His eyes were fixed on the carpet and it was impossible to tell if my words had penetrated so I got my things and left. I managed to drive to the end of the road before bursting into tears.
***
‘Charlotte!’ Megan screeched when I walked in.
I pulled at my earlobe, trying to dispel the ringing noise. ‘Please, you don’t need to say anything. I’ve spoken to the travel agent and I’ll need your passport details, but otherwise, you’re good to go. Perhaps you and Sam can spend some time together and finally figure out what it is you’re both doing,’ I said.
I had my cottage move to look forward to and the time alone would help me prepare mentally.
‘It’s so generous! I need to start planning what I’m going to wear. I can’t believe it’s only a week away – there’s so much to do.’ She jumped up and down like a child before bouncing upstairs, presumably to go through her wardrobe.
I sighed before shouting, ‘Megan?’
‘Yes?’ She popped her head over the bannister at the top of the stairs.
‘There’s a suitcase in my car that has a label saying “summer clothes”. If you hoist it in for me, you can pick whatever you’d like to take – it’s not like I’ll be fitting into them any time soon.’
‘Eek, thank you!’ she squealed again, and I envisaged dogs everywhere with a five-mile radius cowering under coffee tables.
Just seeing her cheerful face perked me up, though – so much so that I had an idea. Once she’d lugged the case in along with another marked ‘everyday clothes’, I got in the car, drove to the charity shop on the high street, and dumped every single box. What did I want with all that fancy stuff that wouldn’t fit in my cottage anyway? The last box was the large one marked ‘shoes’ and I stood, lingering with it in the doorway. ‘Did you want to leave that one too?’ the nice lady behind the counter asked.
I looked down at the open box, hesitating. The red Valentinos that I’d worn years ago to my engagement party were in there. My ivory Manolos, worn only on my wedding day, and the beautiful black Jimmy Choos that I’d bought for our tenth anniversary dinner lay just underneath. Each pair of those shoes had a story; each pair had been selected specifically for a special occasion.
But it wasn’t the shoes that should have held sentiment, it was the memories and those I’d always have. Despite their tarnished glaze, I was happy on each of those occasions, but not because of the expensive shoes. I was embarking on a new adventure, one that probably required a more substantial choice of footwear. I didn’t want to dwell on the past, and there wasn’t a pair in there I could wear while running around after a baby. I thrust the box forward. ‘Yes please.’
The phone rang as I stepped outside the shop. It was my solicitor. My fingers started to tingle as I fumbled with the slippery casing to answer.
‘Hello?’
‘Hello, Mrs Emsworth. We’ve been reviewing everything and in light of your husband’s adultery and everything else you’ve told us, we expect the divorce to happen quite quickly. The divorce application has been issued and now we’re awaiting the Acknowledgement of Service form from the respondent.’ I thanked him and hung up.
I was on a high-speed train heading for an unknown destination and it both excited me and scared me in equal measure. But it was happening, and fear was something I’d just have to put up with. My body started to feel lighter, despite the small neat bump protruding from my middle. It was all starting to feel very real.
***
A few days later, things seemed to have died down a little. I’d not heard anything from James, and Megan and Sam were looking forward to their holiday. I’d always been a believer in being in charge of your own happiness and despite losing sight of that belief for a few years, I was starting to feel it again. I’d snuggled into a great group of friends who loved me, my baby was on the way, and I was excited about my new home – I was in control of my happiness and wasn’t going to be disappointed by another human again.
This belief was partly why I’d accepted James’s poor decisions. He hadn’t figured out how to be happy and still believed materialistic things were the answer. Until he knew what he wanted, I could never have made him happy because he’d always want more. It was a toxic and consuming way of life that he’d have to figure out on his own.
Once he sorted himself out, we could perhaps be friends. I didn’t even hold malice towards him because, ultimately, we’re born alone and we die alone and we have one life in between. That gap between life and death is a one-time opportunity and we either enjoy it and make the most of what we have, or we’re consumed by negativity, be that greed, longing, hatred, spite, envy, or whatever. What I’m trying to say is, life is too short.
I was sitting flicking through furniture brochures alone, still pondering life when my phone buzzed. It was a text message from Andrew.
Sorry if this is a bit weird, but I know you mentioned you worked with the Springwell Children’s Hospice and my class are
