Page 15 of The Runaway Wives

She took her mug out into the garden and sat down on one of the chairs. The cat jumped onto the table and lay down in front of her. A male, she noticed, as it rolled over onto its back, then onto its side, gazing at her. And it had been neutered so obviously did belong to someone. She stroked its tummy and it purred. ‘You’re friendly, aren’t you? I wonder what your name is?’ she said softly. This time the cat allowed her to look at the disc. ‘Snowy. Primrose Cottage.’ She remembered that name, it was one of the cottages near the end of the block. As she had guessed – a neighbour’s cat.

She’d always wanted a pet, but Nigel was against it, telling her he was allergic. She was sure he wasn’t though, as she’d never seen him sneeze when a dog or cat was about. He also always pointed out that there would be no one to look after the pet when they were both out. She thought a cat would be perfectly happy to curl up in its basket and sleep on the odd occasion they were both out together. She loved dogs, she’d always made a fuss of Babs’ old dog, Bozo, but as well as being allergic, Nigel said they were too messy, and needed a lot of exercise. It was a shame, a pet would have been company for her when Nigel was away on all of his business trips. The house felt so quiet and empty now the children had grown up and left home. She kept busy doing a bit of volunteering and some paperwork for Nigel but she still had a lot of time on her hands.

The cat jumped onto her lap and settled himself there. Dee stroked him gently, her mind going over the last couple of days. She hadn’t heard from Nigel again and doubted that she would.

She looked around the pretty courtyard with its colourful plant pots. She could live in a place like this. It felt like home. She sipped her tea slowly, enjoying the peace and quiet.

* * *

‘Morning! Oh, what a cute little cat!’ Babs, dressed in a bright floral dressing gown, stepped out through the open French doors a little while later.

‘Isn’t he just? He’s from a cottage a couple of doors down. He wandered into the kitchen for some milk as soon as I opened the doors,’ Dee told her. ‘I did think about bringing you a drink up, but decided to leave you to wake naturally.’ She tilted her head to one side and studied Babs. ‘How did you sleep? You look a bit tired.’

‘Not too good.’ Babs pulled out a chair and sat down. ‘I kept thinking about Geoff. I can’t believe this has happened. I was looking forward to us both retiring, doing things together. I thought it would bring us closer but instead it’s driven us apart.’

‘It’s just a hiccup. I’m sure you’ll sort it out. You two are so good together.’ Dee had often envied their close relationship. Although they bickered sometimes, they adored each other and she was sure they would sort things out soon. Meanwhile, it was lovely to have Babs’ company for a while.

‘I hope so,’ Babs said. Then her eyes rested on the kimono Dee was wearing. ‘I knew that would suit you.’

‘It’s perfect,’ Dee replied with a smile. ‘The postman has been too and Annabel’s cards have arrived. I’ve put them on the unit.’ She’d picked up the letters when she’d gone inside to make another cup of tea.

‘That’s great. I wish the post came that early back at home.’ Babs gazed up at the blue sky. ‘What a gorgeous day. How do you fancy a walk along the harbour once we’ve had breakfast? We could pop into that café, too.’

The cat jumped off Dee’s lap and she brushed the white hairs off her kimono. ‘That sounds good. I think I’ll go and have a shower now.’

‘Go ahead. I’m going to make myself a cuppa and enjoy the view for a few minutes.’

Dee could see that her friend was upset but decided it was best to leave her to her thoughts. As she went up to the shower, she mused over what she would do if Nigel suggested moving to Spain. Or Portugal. He did go there a lot to play golf. Would she agree? The thought would fill her with dread, she realised. To move away from her friends and their children and everything she knew. Sometimes the days seemed long when Nigel was away, as he was now, but she had lots to keep herself busy and often met up with Babs and other friends, or went over to visit Annabel and Hallie. She’d miss Babs, she was like the sister Dee had never had. It would be just Dee and Nigel, and he would probably be off playing golf every day. She guessed she could go with him, but the game bored her, and Nigel had never suggested she accompany him. It was as if she was excluded from this part of his life.

They hadn’t actually got much in common. Nothing but the children – who were now grown up and had gone their own ways – to hold them together. The thought hit her with a jolt. She’d never really considered whether she was happy with Nigel before. She’d simply accepted her lot and done her best to keep the family together. It was the only family she had. Her parents had died years ago and she’d been an only child. She sat down on the edge of the bed as a sudden realisation hit her. She was sixty. She’d spent thirty-five years doing what Nigel wanted, and trying to be a good mother to Annabel and Hugh. Did she want to do that for the rest of her life? Wasn’t it time to do whatshewanted?

12

BABS

‘It’s breathtaking,’ Babs enthused as they walked along the harbour front, past the small beach where there were already a few children playing in the sand whilst their parents chatted. Rows of shops along the front were open, selling a selection of items from souvenirs, surf equipment and clothes to confectionary and pasties. Granite-grey and white houses scattered the cliffs rising up from the harbour on the left, and a long, narrow cobbled road wound up the hill into the town.

‘There’s the café the estate agent told us about.’ Babs pointed to a little café with a cobalt-blue square-paned bay window and wooden door. Above the door was a hanging sign with the words:

Moira’s Café

written above a picture of a steaming cup. It looked very welcoming.

They crossed the road over to the café, Babs in the lead. A bell tinkled as she pushed open the door and a woman carrying a tray over to a couple sitting in the corner glanced over and smiled at them. ‘Hiya. Grab a table and I’ll be with you in a minute.’

‘What a pretty café,’ Dee said as they made their way over to an empty table in the bay window. All the tables were covered in white tablecloths, with a delicate glass bud vase with one white rose in it. Glancing over at the other tables she saw that people were drinking out of pretty china cups, not small cups, but big enough to hold a decent cup of tea or coffee, and interestingly, they were in several different patterns and colours. It was unusual, but she liked it.

‘Now what can I get you both?’ The woman, who looked to be in her early fifties, beamed at them. According to the name badge on her top she was called Andi. She was wearing a short-sleeved top which revealed a blue rose tattoo on her left upper arm. The colour had faded a bit so she must have had it done when she was quite a lot younger, but it was still very clear.

‘The estate agent recommended this café to us, and no wonder, it’s really pretty,’ Dee said.

‘Thanks. I think so too. I’ve worked here a couple of years now. Moira,’ she nodded at the slightly older dark-haired woman at the till, ‘is the owner. She and her husband used to run it between them but he passed away a couple of years ago.’

Babs looked over at the older woman. She had a friendly face and was joking with one of the customers.

‘That must have been hard for her,’ Babs said sympathetically.

‘It was but as she said, running the café helps keep her busy, less time to think.’ Andi smiled. ‘Now what would you like, ladies? We’ve got a selection of home-made cakes, scones and sandwiches, and we serve tea, coffee or various herbal teas.’ She handed them the menu. ‘Can I get you a drink while you decide?’

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