Single All the Way: An unputdownable and uplifting Christmas romance Page 2

  Then it had come to her: Smuggler’s Haunt, the little fisherman’s cottage near Boscastle that held so many happy memories for her. She just hoped that it wasn’t booked up. She did a quick Internet search, saw to her relief that the cottage was free until 2 January, and immediately booked it with her credit card. Then she’d phoned Meg.

  She felt a mixture of trepidation and freedom: she really wanted this, had wanted it for so long, but now she had to break it to Ted. Not a prospect she was relishing. She’d pack a case first then go out into the garden where Ted was busy, as usual, and tell him.

  She went up to their bedroom and started packing some things into a suitcase. She was almost done when the bedroom door opened and Ted walked in, dressed in his usual gardening gear of faded navy corduroy trousers, red and blue checked shirt, and navy quilted body warmer. He’d put on some weight since he’d retired, despite the hours he spent in the garden, and his cheeks were always ruddy – probably the fresh air, and the tipple of Scotch he liked to have every night before bed. He glanced at the case, a puzzled frown creasing his forehead. ‘Where are you going now? You never mentioned you were going away.’ She could hear the mix of resentment and annoyance in his voice.

  ‘Meg and Oliver have split up. I’m going to spend a couple of days with her.’

  ‘What? Why?’ Astonished, he sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘I thought they were both happy together.’

  ‘I don’t know why but it sounds serious.’

  ‘Where are you both going?’

  ‘Cornwall. Meg needs my support.’ She carried on folding her clothes into the case, then closed it.

  ‘Cornwall?’ he repeated, puzzled. ‘How long for? And what about Christmas? Meg’s still coming for Christmas, isn’t she?’

  Is that all he could think about? His traditional Christmas? ‘Oliver and Meg have split up, Ted. I should think Christmas is the last thing on her mind.’ She paused. ‘And it’s the last thing on my mind too, right now. I’m not sure when I’ll be back.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Or if I’ll be back.’

  He stared at her uncomprehendingly. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Isn’t it time we stopped pretending? Meg’s marriage isn’t the only one in trouble. Our marriage hasn’t been working for a long time, Ted. We both want different things in life. I think… I think we’d be better off apart,’ she stammered.

  She saw his confusion turn to hurt. ‘You mean you’re leaving me? At Christmas?’ He ran a hand over his almost bald head. ‘Is this because I don’t want to go gallivanting around the world on a perishing cruise with Frances and Martin?’

  That was typical Ted. He never listened to her, never tried to understand. ‘No, Ted, I’m not leaving you because you don’t want to go on the cruise. I’m leaving you because you don’t want to do anything or go anywhere with me.’ She stuffed another pair of leggings into the case and slammed the lid shut. ‘I don’t even think you actually want to be with me, you’ve just got used to me being here.’ She looked over at him, silently begging him to understand. To say something that made her feel like he cared. ‘There’s so much I want to do with my life, Ted, whereas you don’t seem to want to do anything except be out in the garden or play bowls.’

  Ted snorted. ‘What’s this? Some kind of old-age crisis?’ He stood up and pointed a finger at her. ‘I never stop you doing anything. You can live your life how you want. And you do.’

  If only. ‘That’s not true, and you know it. When I go anywhere you sulk about it even though you refuse to do anything with me. Don’t you see we live separate lives, Ted? We’re not a couple any more; we’re just like friends who share the same house.’

  Ted glared at her. ‘And what’s wrong with being friends? Life isn’t all about soppy stuff, you know. It’s about getting along. We’re too old to be bothering about all that romantic nonsense.’

  ‘That’s just it, we aren’t too old for romance, Ted. You’re never too old for romance.’ She sighed. ‘We don’t share any interests or do anything together any more. I’m sorry, but – especially with what’s going on with Meg and Oliver – I can’t face pretending we’re happy together just for the sake of a family Christmas. I’m sure Dan and Katya will invite you to their house; it won’t hurt them to cook the dinner for a change. I’m going away with Meg and I don’t know if I’m coming back.’

  ‘Well, you have your “singletons” Christmas then, see if I care. Of course you’ll be back. And when you do, I hope you’ll have changed your attitude and learnt to appreciate what you’ve got. There’s plenty of women who would love to have a steady, reliable husband like me,’ retorted Ted, and he walked out of the room.

  He’s treating it like I’m going on a holiday, Sally thought crossly, and he’s only miffed because it has left him in the lurch at Christmas. Typical Ted to pooh-pooh my feelings and just carry on with life as normal.

  When she went downstairs with her case, he was back in the garden.

  ‘I’m off now. I’ll keep in touch,’ she told him.

  He looked up, his face stony. ‘Do what you want. You always do.’

  Which is wrong, she thought. She hardly ever did what she wanted. But starting from now, she was going to.

  3

  Meg

  Meg checked out of the hotel and drove down to Goolan Bay in a mixture of disbelief and shock as she tried to get her head around the fact that her parents had split up. Something major must have happened for her mum to walk out after all these years – it was their fortieth anniversary in a few months – and right before Christmas too.

  Surely her dad hadn’t had an affair? Meg shook her head. He wouldn’t. Dad had never been the sort to go off with another woman; he was solid, reliable. Had Mum found someone else, then? Surely not. Although she did still turn heads, even in her sixties. Mum looked years younger than her age and was so outgoing and popular. No, she wouldn’t cheat on Dad. It had to be something else. But what? And why had Mum chosen Cornwall for her escape? The announcement had certainly taken Meg’s mind away from her own troubles for a while.

  She turned off the motorway and drove down isolated country lanes, flanked by bare-branched trees silhouetted in the dusk. It looked so eerie; she was a little spooked and wished she’d been able to set off earlier and arrive before it got dark. Still, according to Google Maps she would be there in ten minutes. The app led her down another long country lane which wriggled through a small village of whitewashed houses, the roads so narrow that she was thankful she was driving her Volkswagen Golf, not the van they used for their party planning business. Her mother had said there was no parking at the cottage itself but plenty of road parking nearby at this time of year.

  She glanced around for an empty spot and was relieved when she drove around a corner and found one, noticing her mother’s silver Corsa already parked a few spaces away. Meg’s phone buzzed as she pulled on the handbrake. Oliver?

  She took her phone out of her bag and was pierced by a prick of disappointment when she saw her best friend Helen’s name flashing on the screen. Her first instinct was to ignore it but then curiosity got the better of her. Helen normally texted, and if she did call, it was on a Friday or Saturday evening when they’d both finished work.

  ‘Are you okay, babe?’ Helen asked as soon as Meg answered the call. ‘Oliver was in Mersey’s last night, totally off his head, telling everyone you had dumped him.’

  Anger surged through her. How could he go out drinking as soon as she had left, as if he was celebrating being single, and then announce their private business to everyone? She’d thought Oliver was better than that. They had both agreed to never talk about private stuff to anyone, and she had kept to that promise. Always. That’s why she hadn’t told Helen that she’d left. Obviously, Oliver had decided to announce it to the world and make her sound like the bad guy.

  ‘The utter bastard!’ She then demanded furiously, ‘What else did he say?’

  ‘He was a bit too drunk to make much sense, to b
e honest,’ Helen told her. ‘I was surprised though. I thought you two were perfect for each other. What’s happened?’

  ‘It’s personal. I don’t want to talk about it right now.’ Meg could hear the wobble in her own voice. ‘I’ve come down to Cornwall to spend a few days with Mum. She and Dad have split up too.’

  ‘What! Wow! That must have been a shock.’ Helen sounded incredulous.

  ‘It was. Please don’t tell anyone.’

  ‘Cross my heart.’ There was a pause. ‘I’m so sorry, babe. You must be devastated.’

  ‘I am. Look, I’ve got to go now, Helen. Mum’s waiting for me. I’ll catch up with you in a couple of days.’

  ‘Okay, babe. Take care. And remember, I’m here if you ever want to talk.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Meg slipped her phone into her bag as she got out of the car, pulled on her coat, then grabbed her case out of the boot and made her way along the thankfully well-lit street and around the corner. A row of quaint former fishermen’s cottages lined the cobbled street. She checked the names on the doors for Smuggler’s Haunt – the name of the cottage Mum had said she was staying at. There it was, half a dozen houses down.

  She knocked on the door, and a few seconds later it opened to reveal her mother, clad in black leggings and a long red jumper, her arms outstretched in welcome. ‘Meg, darling!’

  ‘Hello, Mum.’ She anxiously scanned her mother’s face, noticing that her eyes were red as if she’d been crying, but she was wearing make-up and was smiling, as usual. For the first time in her life, Meg wondered what her mother hid behind that perfectly made-up face and permanent smile.

  ‘I’m so sorry about you and Oliver, love,’ her mum said as she stepped aside for Meg to pass into the hall. ‘Can you patch things up, do you think?’

  ‘I don’t see how.’ Meg put her case against the wall as her mother closed the door. ‘But never mind me and Oliver, what about you and Dad? I can’t believe that you’ve split up! What’s happened? He hasn’t… he hasn’t had an affair, has he?’

  Her mum looked surprised. ‘Goodness me, no. It’s nothing like that.’ Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinised Meg’s face. ‘What about Oliver? Is that why you two have split up?’

  Meg shook her head vehemently. ‘No, of course not.’ Oliver would never cheat on her; she was sure of that.

  ‘Well, now we’ve got that out of the way, why don’t you take off your coat and boots and go and sit in the lounge – first door on the left. I’ve got a fire burning. I’ll bring you a hot drink – coffee and brandy okay? – and we’ll talk about things then.’

  Coffee and brandy sounded perfect – she had no intention of driving anywhere else today – but before she could reply, her mum had already disappeared into the kitchen to put the kettle on. Meg slipped her coat off and hung it on the coat hanger in the hall, put her boots underneath and headed to the half-open door on the left. As she pushed it open, the warmth from the log fire in the centre of the room hit her. She looked around: the room was small but comfy, with a faded cream-and-blue floral sofa and two matching chairs, the thick seat cushions inviting you to sit down and sink into them, and the big blue scatter cushions just right for resting your head on. She chose one of the chairs which were placed each side of the roaring fire. A beige patterned carpet covered most of the floor, the gap around the edges revealing varnished floorboards. The walls were painted white, with low dark-wood beams, and various nautical pictures and objects hung here and there. Very cosy.

  The door opened and her mother came in carrying two steaming mugs. ‘Here you are, this will warm you up.’ She placed a mug on the coffee table next to Meg then curled up on the other chair cradling the second mug, her legs tucked under her. ‘Now do you want to talk about it?’ she asked. ‘I don’t mind if you prefer not to. Although I admit I’m surprised. I like Oliver a lot and always thought you two were perfect for each other.’

  Meg didn’t want to talk about her and Oliver; she wanted to talk about her parents. To find out why, after almost forty years of marriage, her mother had walked out. Her mind couldn’t take it in. Her parents’ marriage had seemed rock-solid. She’d thought they were devoted to each other. They were never openly affectionate, that wasn’t their way – Dad didn’t like public displays of affection – but they always seemed to get on well. Never in a million years had she expected them to split up. ‘I will in a bit but first I’d like to know why you’ve left Dad. What’s he done?’

  Her mother sighed and gazed at the fire for a few seconds before she answered. ‘I don’t know how to explain it, Meg. We’ve drifted apart. All your dad is interested in is his garden and playing bowls. He never wants to go out, go away, do anything with me.’

  Meg stared at her, bewildered. Had Mum really walked out just because Dad was a bit of a homebody? ‘I know Dad is a bit set in his ways, and that must get you down, but surely that isn’t enough to split up over, is it? Besides, you have lots of friends to go out and on holiday with. And Dad loves you and you love him. Don’t you?’

  Her mum’s face crumpled, and she tugged a tissue from the sleeve of her jumper, dabbing her eyes with it. ‘That’s the trouble, Meg. I don’t think we do love each other. On the surface we’re jogging along, but we’re just tolerating each other, really, and I can’t live like that any more. I want more out of life. I want to live. To experience things.’ She paused then gushed out, ‘I know you might think this sounds silly at my age, but if I’m with a man, I want it to be because he loves me and wants to spend time with me, not because we’ve been together for years. The thought of living the rest of my life with your dad fills me with dread. There’s no… affection between us.’ Her cheeks reddened at this admission. ‘I can’t do it any longer, Meg. I really can’t.’

  God, this was awful. She hadn’t realised her mum felt like this. Poor Dad probably hadn’t either. He must be sitting at home, upset and bewildered, wondering what had happened. She’d give him a ring as soon as she had the chance, see if she could get more out of him. She had to get her parents back together for Christmas.

  4

  Sally

  The cottage brought back so many memories, as she knew it would. Images of them so in love, so happy. They couldn’t get enough of each other, always touching, kissing, holding hands. Curling up on the sofa in the evenings, arms around each other as they watched the little portable TV that had now been replaced by a sleek, modern one, lying in each other’s arms in the morning, his wavy chocolate-brown hair half over his eyes, smiling down at her, pulling her towards him for another kiss, hug or more. The cottage had changed, of course, had been modernised, the furniture updated, the metal-framed bed they had shared – the springs squeaking so much when they made love that they had both giggled, hoping the sound didn’t carry to the house next door – replaced by a huge divan, but essentially it was the same. She had taken their old room for herself, leaving the other slightly smaller one for Meg, because it didn’t seem right for Meg to sleep in the room where they had been so happy, where they would stand every morning, his arm around her shoulders, gazing over the rooftops at the ribbon of shimmering sea beyond. She wondered if the seagulls still pitter-pattered over the roof early in the morning, if they would wake her up with their loud squawks. Probably not as it was winter.

  ‘Mum?’

  Meg’s voice dragged her out of her thoughts. ‘Sorry, were you saying something?’

  ‘I asked you what made you come here. I can’t remember us ever coming to Cornwall for our holidays when we were young. I remember going to Weymouth a couple of times, and Woolacombe, but not Cornwall.’

  Meg was right. Sally and Ted had never taken Meg and Dan to Goolan Bay. Sally hadn’t wanted to. She’d wanted to keep it their special place.

  ‘I came here once a long time ago,’ she said slowly. ‘I loved it and it seemed like a good place to spend Christmas.’

  Meg was staring at her. ‘Who did you come with?’ She paused. ‘It wasn’t an old boyfriend, was it?�
�

  ‘What’s with all the questions? Can’t we have a relaxing evening and not question each other? Just let each other talk when we’re ready?’ Sally said, with a note of aggravation in her voice, then she instantly regretted it when she saw the hurt look on Meg’s face. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.’

  ‘Why did you? It was an innocent enough question.’ Suspicious, Meg narrowed her eyes. ‘You’re not having an affair, are you?’

  Sally glared at her. ‘Of course I’m not! What a question to ask!’

  Meg shrugged. ‘Well, it would explain why you’re being so secretive.’

  ‘It’s personal, Meg. I haven’t asked you why you’ve left Oliver, have I? I know you well enough to realise that it isn’t a decision you have taken lightly, and that’s good enough for me. Just because we are your parents it doesn’t mean we aren’t entitled to our privacy.’

  Meg looked a bit taken aback but then she nodded. ‘Okay, I didn’t mean to pry. I’m shocked, that’s all. You’ve been together so long. Dad must be devastated.’

  ‘So am I. I didn’t want to leave, you know. You’ve no idea how much I’ve hung on, tried to make it work…’ Sally swallowed the lump in her throat and got up out of the chair. ‘Look, I’m going for a stroll – do you want to join me? It’s still quite early and the harbour is just down the hill. It’ll look so beautiful this time of the evening.’

  Meg nodded. ‘I’ll get my coat.’ She was up and out of the room in a flash.

  I guess she doesn’t want to talk about things any more than I do, Sally thought. When she’d invited Meg to join her, she hadn’t thought any further than her daughter needing somewhere to spend Christmas, and that they could keep each other company. It was only natural that Meg would take the break-up hard; she was sure Dan would too. She couldn’t bring herself to phone her son and tell him yet; she was dreading his reaction.