‘Yes. We were waiting till everything was finalised. I was going to tell you.’
‘Really?’ she said, her voice sounding tired and hollow to her own ears. ‘When exactly? You’re a liar, Duncan. Get out of my fucking way, right now.’ She saw him roll his eyes, and just about resisted the urge to punch the flash little ponce in the face. She looked across to Sasha, to try to show in a look how sorry she was that she’d caused a scene, but her blood ran cold when she looked around the room. Some people were openly staring now, a sea of faces, all turned to the pity setting. They feel sorry for me.
Suddenly she could barely hold herself up. She made it out of the doors and into the car park before she threw up at the side of her car, tears streaming down her face as she dry-heaved on the pavement. Broken and spent.
The very next week, researching old haunts for the perfect resting place for Mum, she saw the advert for Shady Pines, and she’d put in the offer in two minutes flat.
Chapter 7
Beyond the blue gate was a long winding stone path, leading to a huge house. There were outbuildings all around it, the same brickwork and architecture design throughout, making it look like a Cornish picture postcard. Elvis the goat was in a large pen to her left, and he sprang to the fence when he saw April approaching. He was seemingly saying hello, quite loudly too.
‘Hello, Elvis.’ It came out flat, even to her ears. If she couldn’t muster up the enthusiasm to say hello to a friendly goat, then what chance would she have with Judith? She huffed glumly as she passed the little fella, already wondering how long she would have to stay before she made a quick and hopefully more dignified exit than the last time they met.
Chalet hopping and commando rolling across the Cornish coastline wasn’t quite what she had planned for her new life here. She had thought it would be easier, granted, to fall off the face of the earth and, quite literally, live on it in peace and solitude. The thing that she hadn’t thought about, not once through it all, was the fact that wherever she went, the rest of her followed. Her bloated stomach, her muffin top, the ‘tyre’ that Duncan teased her over. Her general feelings of despair at being left with a life that she never asked for, and a constant feeling like something was passing her by. Did you get FOMO at the end of the world? It seemed so.
She was doing her own head in with her moods, but she fluctuated from sheer panic to the pits of despair and back to blind optimism four times before her first coffee hit her system. Given how things were going, she was amazed that she was able to get out of bed at all. The mood to do so certainly hadn’t embraced her yet. Every morning was met with the same ‘meh’ feeling, and it was starting to get boring. Back home, would she have been any better? She doubted it, and the thought of going back to her old life … it made her chest feel just that bit tighter, her resolve just that little bit stronger. She wasn’t about to fall on her face here, despite the continual worry that she felt.
She needed to shake herself out of it, she knew. She could hear her mother in her head. ‘My girl, get yourself back up. Don’t let them see you cry, or they’ve won.’ She was the toughest woman, in the end. The dark moments of her illness were lifted by her herself, simply and bloody-mindedly choosing to ignore how sick she was, and embracing every second of the life she had left. Even then, on the worst days, it had reminded April of when she became this woman. When the strong, fiercely protective woman dying in front of her changed from the mousy woman who watched her take her first steps. The woman who had dragged her only child out of bed in the small hours and made a run for her life.
‘That woman,’ April muttered to herself, looking up at the blue sky above, ‘would be kicking my behind right now. Right?’ She threw the question to the clouds, already knowing the answer to her question.
‘April! You’re late!’
Judith came bounding over to her, sans chicken this time. She was clad head to foot in a rather sexy-looking tracksuit, a bit Juicy Couture with a hint of country garden. It was a look, and topped off with a bright yellow sweatband and a pair of pink DayGlo trainers, it looked like she was off to be a backing dancer for a weird exercise video.
‘I didn’t think we’d said a time actu—’
‘No matter!’ she said brightly, stopping abruptly in front of her and lunging forward to touch her toes, her arms stretched straight and wide from her body. ‘Just a few of these and we can start the run.’
April looked behind her, and back at Judith, puzzled.
‘Run?’
Judith grinned. ‘Yes, city girl. A run. If I know anything about living here, I know you need to run. Do something for yourself.’ Judith checked her pulse with her fingers, frowning at the screen of the get-fit activity watch on her wrist. ‘Bloody thing, it’s never worked right. Curse Tim and his bloody dodgy deliveries.’ She jabbed it a few times with her finger, eventually just glaring at it and giving up altogether. ‘Ah well, sweat equals workout. Right?’
April was staring at her as if she was deranged. ‘Well, yes I suppose …’
‘That’s the ticket!’ Judith slapped her on the shoulder, in a friendly way. It made April feel a bit like a piñata, but she shrugged it off. ‘You might need to get changed first though. What were you
