Page 92 of You Only Live Once
Ending our relationship was the right thing, the only thing, to do, but if it was, why did I feel so awful? A warm, furry body rushed in and pressed itself against me and I wrapped my arms around the solidness of the dog and buried my head in his golden fur until all the tears had been spent. I sat up and stroked his now damp coat. Eventually, I pushed myself up and headed downstairs to take him out. Hopefully the fresh air would do us both some good and help me convince myself that I hadn’t just made a huge, horrible mistake.
Two hours of tramping around did not bring the hoped for respite from the anguish and emptiness that resided within me. When we returned to the house, Jack’s truck was still gone, and I wondered where he was but then told myself I had no right to. Jack had come to the house as a lodger and that had worked well until I had allowed emotion to cloud the situation. I’d never intended to spend as much time as I had with Jack, even when we were just friends. He’d been talking about finding his own place a little while before we got together. I realised that both of us had been finding excuses for him not to, but now there was nothing to stop him. Still, that was bound to take a little time and I hoped that, given that space, Jack would forgive me and that we could at least part as friends. Clive scampered into the house and went zooming off to check it out as he always did. Coming back, he had another sniff around and then went to his water bowl and began lapping away. Hanging up the lead, I bent and undid my trainers and pushed them off before heading upstairs to shower and change. As I passed Jack’s room, I noticed the door was ajar, but I was sure it had been closed earlier.
‘Jack?’ There was no reply, so I pushed the door open a little more. It was empty. All his things were gone and the room once again looked like just another guest room instead of Jack’s room. The duvet was folded on the end of the bed and it was then I noticed a note, together with the keys to the house and the studio.
Lily, have made other arrangements, think that is best. Sheets etc in washing machine. Look after yourself and Clive. Jack.
I read the note three times before sitting heavily on the bed, staring out of the window across the beautiful countryside, not seeing any of it.
30
With Jack gone, each twenty-four hours seemed to stretch for far longer, the days and nights dragging out without the distraction of his company, his smile, his love. I went to bed early in an attempt to shorten the long days, but all that succeeded in doing was to lengthen the nights.
I looked down at the dog, who was now ensconced in his upstairs bed, snoring contentedly, completely oblivious that he was the one thing that kept me from tumbling back down to the absolute depths of sadness, despair and loneliness I once had before.
Summer turned to autumn and, although I took Clive out for his daily walk, I couldn’t appreciate the changing season, the burnished gold and bronze leaves fluttering to the ground and collecting around our feet. Clive had finally stopped looking for Jack every time we came into the house, but he’d become more clingy to me since Jack had left, as though afraid I would disappear too. If my heart hadn’t already been shattered, the fact that I’d hurt this beautiful, innocent animal would have destroyed it again. All I could do was reassure him that I wasn’t going anywhere, just as Jack had tried to reassure me of the same thing. The dog would look at me with big brown soulful eyes and then rest his head on whatever part of my body was nearest with a big sigh. I wasn’t sure if he understood any of it, but I hoped he at least got the gist. Felix and Poppy had tried to help, but both they and I knew there was nothing to say. I’d made a choice and had to live with it. One time, when I couldn’t stop myself, I asked them how Jack was doing. Poppy had looked unusually grave and shook her head.
‘Not great. He’s working every hour that he can. The children and I have barely seen him either.’
‘I’m so sorry that I put you all in the middle of this. That was never my intention.’
She laid a hand on my arm. ‘We know that and I’m sure Jack will come around when he’s able. He adores his godchildren too much to stay away for long, but I think he just needs to get his head in the right place.’
I thought I had been saving myself from hurt, but the pain of losing Jack, even by my own volition, was still as raw now as the day he’d left. I’d hurt him badly, but I’d also hurt my family and even my dog. Time heals all wounds, so they say. I wasn’t so sure about that but could only hope that in this case it would be true.
* * *
‘You’re still coming to the wedding, though?’ Felix was wolfing down a piece of the Victoria sponge cake I’d just set out on a plate.
‘What wedding?’
‘William’s. You RSVP’d that you would months ago. You can’t cancel now.’
William was one of the village boys made good. He’d risen through the ranks of the law to become a top barrister in London and was getting married in the local church to a girl he had gone to school with. They’d dated as teenagers but drifted apart, and both had been through several relationships as adults. A chance meeting had set them back on the path to love and now they wanted to celebrate that in the place where it all began. The whole village was invited and I knew that included Jack.
‘Don’t even think it, let alone say it.’ Felix was unusually sharp.
‘What?’
‘Whatever excuse you were coming up with to not go. Faith and William are really excited that you said yes, and they’d be hurt if you didn’t turn up now.’
‘I wouldn’t just not turn up! Obviously I’d let them know.’
‘And you think that makes it all better?’
‘Felix…’ Poppy’s voice was soft, but her tone had a warning to it.
‘What?’ He turned to her. ‘I thought she’d got over all this.’
‘Got over all what?’ I said.
‘This whole bloody recluse thing.’
‘I’m not doing it out of choice!’
‘Of course you are! Everyone understood at first, of course we did. You went through a horrible experience, but you refused to get help and instead shut yourself away, missing out on events, special moments in the children’s lives, in our lives, in your own life…’ He shook his head. ‘And now this with Jack? You were happy, Lily. Why on earth would you throw that away? He was so good for you. He got you out of this bloody mausoleum!’
‘It’s not a mausoleum!’ Oddly enough, I was more offended at him criticising my house than the other things he was saying, perhaps because I knew the other things were true.
