The Cornish Guest House (28 page)

‘Leave me alone. I’m ill.’ If she’d once told him how she actually felt, the floodgates would have opened and she wouldn’t have been able to stop.

He’d come back to check on her after every lunchtime when she was in bed, the curtains closed. ‘Can I make you some soup or something?’ But she’d grunted no. ‘Pat seems to have turned a corner,’ he’d added today, making conversation, and, ‘See you later, babe,’ as he’d headed out again for the evening shift. ‘Hope you feel better soon.’ She hadn’t replied.

She wished he wouldn’t be so understanding; his kindness was killing her.

The sun dipped below the horizon, the shadows lengthened and she was still lying there in the dark, almost in the same place where he’d left her, when he returned again at eleven that night.

‘Boss let me off early,’ he said cheerfully, strolling into the room and switching on the light because he could tell that she was awake, ‘so I could come home and look after you.’

Loveday bit her lip. ‘You shouldn’t have bothered.’

‘What?’ He stood still, waiting for her reply, clearly unsure if he’d heard her correctly.

She sat up, eyes blazing. ‘I said you shouldn’t have bothered to come back. There’s nothing you can do.’

His expression changed from one of surprise to anger as something in him finally snapped, and she watched his body tense, his eyebrows lower. It was inevitable, really. You could push him so far then – bam! He’d explode like a volcano. She was just as bad.

He stalked over to the window and flung it open to let fresh air into the stale room.

‘What the fuck’s the matter with you? You’re acting like you’re dying, so why don’t you call a doctor?’

She could tell that he was hurt more than anything. Who wouldn’t be with the way she was behaving? But instead of saying sorry she shouted back.

‘Thanks for the sympathy. I’ve got a stinking headache and all you can do is yell.’

Tears dribbled down her cheeks but, of course, she didn’t say why. He claimed she was shutting him out, then accused her of being obsessed with Luke, and that really set her off because he was right, but not in the way he thought.

‘Stop trying to control my life,’ she screamed. ‘I don’t want to live with you any more.’

His face fell and she thought that he might burst into tears. She hated what she was doing to him, but she hated herself even more.

‘Babe,’ he said, suddenly quiet. ‘This is stupid. Why don’t we—?’

‘Get out, for God’s sake! Just leave me alone!’

She lay on her stomach, her face buried in the pillow, and heard him hurl something across the room that hit the wall. When she peered round, he was smashing a chair leg against the paintwork. ‘See what you made me do?’

‘Stop it!’ she cried, and he whacked the wall once more before storming out and slamming the door behind him so hard that the walls shook.

Of course she hardly slept that night, hoping he’d come back but knowing that he wouldn’t. He’d have gone to his mum’s to cry on her shoulder. Thank God she was there because he was going to need her. As she lay there, feeling the darkness pressing down, tears welled up yet again; she’d wept so often that you wouldn’t think she’d have any left. She couldn’t bear to think how much Jesse would detest her if he found out the truth.

She shivered, picturing Luke’s bright blue eyes that she’d once found so mesmerising, his smooth skin, the gold cufflinks on his crisp designer shirts. She’d once measured him up against Jesse and had found her boyfriend lacking, and she couldn’t believe that she’d been such a fool. It was too late now. Everything about Luke had become ugly and tainted, including The Stables and all those tasteful things in it that she’d marvelled over, wishing that she had the style to pick them out herself. Only little Oscar still gleamed bright like a star, but Tabitha was a different matter.

Loveday balled her fists, not sure whether to get up and punch the wall like Jesse, or wail. She assumed that Tabitha must be involved, too, which meant that every kind smile and word had been fake. Perhaps even that scene in the car park had been staged, to win her sympathy or something. Loveday had adored their chats and confidences; she’d even flattered herself that they were friends, yet all along Tabitha had been buttering her up to make her do exactly as she wanted.

As daylight filtered through the thin curtains, she got up with a sigh. Time was running out. No doubt Liz would be round again soon with Robert, probably, anxious to find out what was going on. And what if Tabitha called by, or even Luke himself? If she wasn’t back at work on Monday, he’d want to know why.

She rose slowly and went to the wardrobe, fishing out a big black suitcase, the one that she’d used to bring her clothes here when they’d moved in. She and Jesse had been so happy then, almost unable to believe that they had their own place at last. Life had seemed pretty near perfect. How rapidly it had gone sour! Whatever happened to her, at least she was going to keep him out of danger.

She threw in what she could – bras and knickers, socks, jeans, sweaters, make-up; her waitressing clothes, she might need those. She thought of one more thing and guiltily slid open the drawer containing Jesse’s T-shirts. He had three white V-necks, almost identical, and she took one, hoping that he wouldn’t miss it. She held it to her face and it smelled of washing powder – and him. Quickly, she plonked it on the other things and tried to zip up the bulging suitcase, but it was too full so she dragged it to the floor and sat on it, working the zip around.

It wasn’t easy and she caught her left forefinger in the metal teeth, drawing blood. The sharp pain made her wince and she stuck the finger in her mouth. No time to search for a plaster now. She was about to carry the bag out when she noticed her stripy zebra, propped up against the pillow beside Puff, the pink and yellow dragon. She paused for a moment then grabbed Puff with her injured hand, stuffing him in her fabric shoulder bag because there was no way she was going to open up the case again.

In the kitchen, she found a pen and an old leaflet advertising story time for toddlers at the local library; she’d picked it up for Oscar, thinking he might enjoy it. She was going to miss that little boy. On the back of the leaflet she scribbled a quick note. It was for everyone, really. Jesse, of course, and Robert, Liz, Rosie and all her other friends in the village. It had to be final, leaving no room for doubt. There was so much to say, so it was easier to say practically nothing at all:

‘I’ve gone away to start a new life. Don’t try to contact me. Please send my love to Pat and tell her to get better soon. Loveday x’

She left it on the worktop by the microwave, where she knew it would be found, along with her mobile phone, from which she’d hurriedly erased the content. She’d dispose of her bank card later, so she couldn’t be located that way, and borrow what she needed. Then she dragged the case down the stairs and waited.

Ten minutes later, the unlicensed cab arrived and parked a few metres up at the end of the street. The driver was an Indian guy who ran a corner shop near one of the Plymouth nightclubs that she used to go to, and he did a bit of ferrying on the side; he’d given her his number when she popped in once for chewing gum and she’d figured that he was a good choice because he wouldn’t want to be traced.

It was very early and the street was silent, save for an old man putting out an empty milk bottle. He didn’t see Loveday or the driver, carrying her suitcase in the opposite direction towards the car. As they moved off, Loveday gazed out of the back window, keen to soak up every last detail of the little village that she’d made her home and in which she’d been so happy.

Her very last view was of Tremarnock’s higgledy-piggledy rooftops, some with smoke curling comfortably from skew-whiff chimneypots. They reminded her of warm kitchens and loving company, laughter and cups of tea. Would she ever be back? She had no idea. She forced herself to turn towards the windscreen, the road ahead and whatever future lay beyond.

*

The upstairs flat at Jack’s Cottage stood silent and empty for two nights, but no one noticed. As it happened, the tenant downstairs was away, too, visiting his girlfriend in Gunnislake. He was a self-employed plumber, on the road a good deal, and it often suited him to stay at her place because it was more accessible. Truth to tell, he was hoping she’d ask him to move in and he wasn’t much interested in Tremarnock any more, or the two young people; he wasn’t even sure he’d recognise their faces.

While he and his girlfriend lay in bed, listening to the church bells summoning the faithful to the Sunday morning service, and luxuriating in the fact that they didn’t have to go anywhere, Jesse was clutching the TV remote, flicking aimlessly through channels at his mum Karen’s house, and contemplating his own unhappiness. Karen had been doing her best to put a smile on his face, but he missed Loveday and didn’t know how to patch things up. If only someone would wave a magic wand to make it all OK again. If only he were better with words, like Luke…

Jesse had turned up, white-faced and weepy, at his old home in the early hours of Friday morning and Karen had welcomed him in with open arms. She could tell that he didn’t want to talk – she was brilliant like that – so she’d made hot chocolate and they’d sat and half watched an old film until his eyelids had been drooping, then she’d made up the bed in his old room and he’d fallen into a deep sleep.

It had been hard, going to work on Friday and Saturday, and Robert must have realised something was up because he’d kept looking at him to check that he was all right, but Jesse had pretended not to notice. After all, Robert was Loveday’s uncle and he was bound to take her side. Families were like that.

On Saturday morning, over breakfast, when his little brother, Finn, had already gone to football practice, Jesse and Karen had had their first proper chat and she’d been super-sympathetic. Now, though, she was getting fed up; you couldn’t blame her.

‘For goodness’ sake, stop moping,’ she said, standing at the living-room door, her arms crossed. ‘Go and see her and sort it out.’

Jesse flicked the channel again and turned up the volume. It was something he’d done as a boy and it had always driven her mad. The house was filled with the smell of bacon that she’d cooked for breakfast, along with sausage, fried egg and beans, a Sunday morning ritual.

‘I want to play X-box!’ Finn grumbled, trying to grab the control himself, but Jesse held it above his head so that he couldn’t reach it.

‘She doesn’t want to see me,’ he said, not looking at Karen because he didn’t want her to see his bloodshot eyes.

Karen snapped at Finn, ‘Get dressed – now,’ before sitting down beside her big son and patting his knee.

‘Look, love,’ she said gently, ‘I’ve told you, there’s not a couple in the world who haven’t fallen out. I know it feels like the end of the world, but sulking won’t make it better. You two need to talk and it’s your day off, so you’ve got the perfect opportunity. Why don’t you swallow your pride and go to the flat? She’s probably desperate for you to make the first move.’

Jesse pulled a face, remembering Loveday’s cruel words.

‘She’s the one who should apologise, she’s been a complete cow. Anyone would think she’s the first person to have flu and I don’t even think she’s been that bad. She’s making it up—’

‘Hush,’ Karen interrupted. ‘There must be something else bugging her, but you won’t find out unless you ask. You can be the bigger person.’

Jesse considered this for a moment. He was very close to his mum, who’d mostly been on her own since his dad had left when he was four. She’d had one boyfriend since, and Finn had been born when Jesse was fourteen, but his father had been a waste of space, too, and soon it had just been the three of them. Karen had always been there for Jesse and now was no exception.

‘Have a shower then head on over,’ she coaxed, sensing that she might be getting through at last. ‘It’s still early, she should be in now.’

Jesse flicked off the TV and rose, stretching. ‘You’re right.’ He was trying to sound nonchalant but felt as if he had a bag of frogs in his stomach. ‘Will you be round later – in case I need to come back?’

Karen smiled. ‘Of course, love. I’ve got a pile of ironing upstairs like you wouldn’t believe. I’m not going anywhere today.’

*

‘Hello?’ He walked gingerly into the front room, half expecting Loveday to leap out from the kitchen or behind the sofa, screaming abuse. She could be a wildcat when roused. When he couldn’t see her he went into the bedroom, noticing the broken chair and dents in the wall and glancing away guiltily; he shouldn’t have done that.

The bed had been made up tidily and there were no clothes strewn across the floor or socks, pants and bras drying on the radiator. Swiftly, he bent down and picked up the pieces of chair and shoved them at the top of the wardrobe underneath some towels, not wishing to be reminded of his bad temper.

He checked the loo – empty – listened at the bathroom door and, realising there was no one there, opened it and walked in. Everything was the same, yet different. There was that familiar, musty smell because the extractor fan didn’t work, and his blue towel was hanging beside her pink one on the rail, which was dry. He bent down and checked the bathmat; dry too, and there was no water in the basin either. You didn’t need a detective to tell you that she hadn’t been in here this morning.

When he noticed that her toothbrush was gone, his heart started to pitter-patter. He opened the wonky cabinet where she kept her make-up to find that the pink plastic bag covered in fluffy kittens was missing, too. She never went anywhere without that. Perhaps she’d moved out, gone back to live at her friend’s mum’s place, or with Liz and Robert. Or maybe there was another man.

Jesse swallowed, feeling sick, as the image of Luke swam into his head. He remembered how one of his mates had been cheated on and he’d pitied him, wondering how he’d been stupid enough not to notice what was under his nose. He’d never thought Loveday would do it to him, though, not in a million years. There again, Luke was some competition.