Page 52 of Always Beth
Her gentle laughter echoes through the garden. ‘In your eyes no one was good enough for me.’
‘Damn right. No one was good enough for me either, not after—’
‘Let’s not, we’re having a good day.’ She waves her hand dismissively. ‘Hasn’t stopped you having fun the past few years though, has it?’
Suddenly the heat in the garden becomes stifling and I jump up from the lounger. I’m not having this conversation with her. ‘I’m thirsty, I’ll get us some drinks.’
I hurry into the cottage, closely tailed by Dick. ‘Will you sod off? I’m not going where you think I’m going,’ I hiss at my feet.
His tail drops between his legs and his disappointment projects straight on to me. ‘Fine, I’ll text her.’
I was going to take some time to think about how this might work and whether I could bring Beth into my life with the way things are at the moment, but who am I kidding, it’s not like I’ll be able to stay away from her. I’m addicted to her in a way I’ve not felt in a long time.
I push my phone back into my pocket and grab two bottles of water from the fridge. Tonight’s the night. I’ll tell Beth how I feel, but first I need to tell her about Lauren.
Beth
The heat in this post office is overwhelming and only heightens the musty smell of gift cards and magazines that, by the dust on them, have been on the shelves since the turn of the millennium. I’ve been in this queue for twenty minutes and I swear it’s the longest I’ve ever waited to collect a parcel. Finally the gentleman in front of me leaves, clutching his passport application that in any other location would have been applied for online, but not here with the lacklustre signal in these parts.
Stepping up to the window, I wave my ID through the Perspex screen, hoping I’m not in for a further wait.
‘Hi, I’ve some packages to collect. It’s Bethany Cross.’
‘Do you have a card?’ the monotone voice sounds back at me.
‘Oh erm, no actually, David said they were here for me.’
She sighs as she drags herself from the rickety old seat, slowly stepping one foot in front of the other as she heads off on her quest for my parcels.
My pocket vibrates as I wait and my heart races in the hope that it might be him.
James: Hey, sorry I didn’t text last night, had a lot on at home. I’d love to see you later if you’re free? I need to talk to you. X
He’s so cryptic. I’m going to see him though, how could I ever say no? His company’s addictive and if he wants to talk even better. I’m about to formulate a suggestive reply when the shuffling of feet draws me back to the window.
‘Ah yes, Bethany Cross. Here we go.’ She pushes the packages through the gap one after another and hands me a pen to sign. ‘I see you’re in the Taylors’ cottage?’
‘The Taylors’ cottage?’
‘Yes, you know James and Lauren. Your landlords. Lovely, aren’t they?’
Landlord, he’s my fucking landlord? Wait a minute. ‘I’m sorry, you’ve lost me…Lauren?’
‘Yes, Lauren Taylor, the cottage you’re in used to be hers, but after moving in with James, she kept it to rent out.’
What the actual…?
‘I, er, I have to go.’ Stumbling backwards, I knock into a card display and send envelopes flying across the shop.Shit.‘I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.’ I gasp for air as I stand on the pavement. I’ve done it now, I’ve become everything I despise. I’m no better than Stephen. I wander on autopilot back to my car and slide into the driver’s seat. Placing my parcels next to me, I sit in silence, my heart becoming heavier by the second. He made me fall for him, worse still, I allowed myself to fall for him.
A married man.
How did I not see the signs? They’ve been staring me in the face this whole time. He comes and goes at a moment’s notice and doesn’t respond to messages for hours at a time. As for London and Melanie, it’s clear it isn’t the first time he’s done this. For a second I contemplate that Stephen’s mistress wasn’t as complicit in their adultery as I first thought. My bottom lip quivers and tears stream down my face. I wish I was angrier with myself right now, but I can’t bear the thought of not being with him again. It’s like he’s brought me back to life.
They say the first cut is the deepest, but this, this hurts.
James
Tucking the bottle of wine under my arm, I pluck some flowers from the hedgerow. This is sickeningly pathetic behaviour on my part, but I know she’ll appreciate the gesture. It’s the small things, after all. She never replied to my text and a million explanations run through my mind. It can only be him though – if that rat of an ex-husband has upset her, I’ll be livid. My stomach somersaults as I walk down the pathway; it’s only been twenty-four hours, but I can’t wait to have her in my arms again. She’s my escape and I can pretend that everything’s right in the world when we’re together. I knock lightly on the door and step back, with the wine in one hand and flowers in the other. As the door opens, my heart drops, she’s been crying.
