Second Chance (30 page)

Read Second Chance Online

Authors: Jane Green

BOOK: Second Chance
8.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

‘Yes, but look up at the sky when you do it. I do that a lot. Still. I have little chats with him.’

‘I know. It feels a lot of the time that he is watching and, corny as it sounds, I feel like he’s become my protector a bit, sort of a guardian angel.’

‘It’s not corny.’ Holly can feel the tears well up. ‘It’s exactly how I feel.’

‘Oh God.’ Olivia reaches around in her bag for a tissue. ‘Don’t set me off. I cry at everything these days.’

‘You’re supposed to.’ Holly smiles through her tears
as Olivia hands her a tissue. ‘Your hormones are all out of whack.’

The phone starts ringing, and Holly picks it up, plugging the earpiece in as she looks at the screen to see who it is.

Will.

‘Hey,’ she says softly. ‘Did you get my message?’

‘Oh Holls,’ he says. ‘I was so shocked. I can’t believe he did that. I can’t believe you left. How do you feel? Are you okay?’

‘Yes. Better than, actually. But I can’t really talk. I’m on my way down to the country. Long story. I’ll tell you another time. Is everything okay with you?’

‘Everything’s great. I’m just worried about you.’

‘Don’t be. I’ll call you when I can.’

She hangs up to find Olivia looking at her with raised eyebrows.

‘What?’ Holly says although she is flushing with guilt.

‘Sounds like there’s more to the story.’

‘What? The phone call?’ Holly attempts to laugh it off. ‘That was just a friend. Oh God. Okay. It was Will.’

Olivia tilts her head. ‘Oh I didn’t realize. Thought it might have been some other dangerously sexy, single, completely gorgeous man.’

Holly laughs. ‘I thought he wasn’t your type?’

‘Only because men that perfect terrify me.’

‘There’s nothing going on. I promise you. We’re not having an affair.’

‘Holly,’ Olivia says, ‘I couldn’t care less whether there’s anything going on. And I’m hardly in a position
to judge, given that I’m pregnant after what was basically a four-night stand.’

‘But there really isn’t anything going on.’

‘You don’t have to explain anything to me. Anyway, Will is lovely, and Tom was never very keen on Marcus so I know he’d approve.’

Holly is stunned. Tom not keen on Marcus? He never said anything, never gave her any indication he didn’t like him.

‘What did Tom say about Marcus?’

Olivia groans. ‘Oh God. Here I go again, putting my foot in it.’ She sighs. ‘Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound. Do you remember that time Tom and Sarah met you and Marcus for a drink, somewhere in the West End, I think, one of the bars?’

‘Yes. It was the Blue Bar at the Berkeley. Marcus’s idea.’

‘I don’t know if I should tell you this…’

‘You can’t not.’ Holly flashes her a look, the anticipation almost too much for her to bear.

‘Okay, so Tom apparently made it clear that the drinks were on him, and Marcus looked at the menu and when the waiter came he looked at Tom with a raised eyebrow and asked, “Do you mind?”’

‘Do you mind what?’ Holly tries to remember that night but can’t.

‘Well, that’s exactly what Tom thought, so he said no, not at all. And then, when the bill came…’ Olivia tails off, wincing at having to tell Holly, who clearly has no idea. ‘He’d ordered a glass of cognac.’

‘I vaguely remember.’

‘It cost a hundred and twenty-five pounds.’

‘What?’ Holly almost chokes. ‘What?’ She is aghast.

‘I know.’ Olivia’s face is pained. ‘Tom was completely horrified.’

‘But, but…’ Holly splutters. ‘Who does that? Who in the hell does that?’

‘Marcus, it would seem.’

Holly shakes her head. ‘Oh my God, that’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard. He knew Tom was paying so he ordered that. I don’t even know what to say. It’s just so fucking Marcus, and…’ She groans.

‘I’m so embarrassed.’

‘After that,’ Olivia continues, ‘it was pretty much all downhill. He just never got it. He never understood why you got together, what you saw in him. He said that Marcus was pompous beyond belief. He always said that you hadn’t changed, that you were still as down-to-earth as you’d been at school, and he never understood how you put up with Marcus. So, bottom line is, I would think Tom would be delighted if there was something going on with you and Will.’

At that they both lean forward and look up at the sky, then look back at one another and burst out laughing.

It’s dark by the time they bump over the old gravel driveway that leads up to the barn. The children are fast asleep in the back, and Holly and Olivia haven’t stopped talking for a second, discussing everything from how they feel about the things in their lives, to whether they are where they expected to be, and where
were the forks that might have led them down a different path.

And Holly realizes that, given the events of the morning, she is exactly where she is supposed to be.

With friends that feel more like family, not because of her closeness to them now, but because of the strength of a shared history. They know her mother, she knows theirs. She knows their brothers and sisters, who they were before they adopted the mantle of adulthood, the mantle of who they thought they were supposed to be.

And it may only have been a few hours, may be, as Holly suspects, the vaguest separation in the history of separations, but in her mind it is real. It is undeniable. And there is no going back.

She no longer has to be Mrs Marcus Carter, wife of a successful lawyer, mother of two, sometime illustrator of greeting cards. She no longer has to walk in unfamiliar, uncomfortable shoes. Since around eleven forty-four this morning, Holly has remembered who she is.

Holly Mac.

No more, and no less.

‘Hello!’ Paul comes out of the house and tramps over the driveway to help them in. ‘Good God, Holly. Are you moving here permanently?’ He peers anxiously into the back, where the bags and possessions reach the roof.

Holly starts to laugh, and then finds herself suddenly, unexpectedly, sobbing.

‘I didn’t mean anything,’ Paul says nervously, hopping from one foot to the other and wishing he’d said nothing. ‘I’m really sorry.’

Olivia walks over to Holly and puts her arms around her, and Holly leans her head on her shoulder and lets the sobs come.

‘Mummy?’ A small voice from the back of the car. ‘Mummy? Are we there yet? Why are you crying?’ And Holly gently disengages and plants a bright smile on her face as she tries to think of an excuse to tell Oliver.

‘Wow… this place is… unfinished.’ Holly and Olivia stand in the living room and look around at the piles of paint in one corner, the dust sheets in another, the sawdust and the lack of furniture.

‘I thought I warned you we were redoing it.’ Paul grins.

‘I thought… well, I didn’t think you were
building
it,’ Olivia says. ‘Is this part of your evil plan?’

Anna walks in from the garden. ‘You mean, get you down here and get you working? Absolutely. Do you think we are idiots or something like that? What is that expression… there’s no such thing as a free lunch?’ And with a laugh she comes over and gives them both hugs.

‘So where is she?’ Holly says. ‘Where’s Saffron?’

‘She couldn’t get any reception on her mobile phone,’ Anna explains. ‘She went to the top of the driveway to try to make a call. Didn’t you pass her?’

‘You probably did,’ Paul says. ‘It’s pitch-black out there, though. Which reminds me, can we see if we can
rig up some sort of outside light? Seriously, I think it’s a bit bloody dangerous.’

‘I’ll add it to the list.’ Anna rolls her eyes. ‘I have to warn you, the beds are a bit funky.’

‘Beds? I thought we were on the floor with sleeping bags.’

‘We were, but we’re starting to look at doing furniture on Fashionista, and we found this company that makes wild and wonderful blow-up beds in these seventies retro patterns, so we’ve brought a load down.’

‘Excellent – have to say I wasn’t particularly looking forward to a sleeping bag. Lots of fun approaching twenty, not so much approaching forty.’ Olivia laughs.

‘I’d say lots of fun approaching ten, myself,’ Holly says. ‘Not too much fun at any point after that.’

‘Does anyone realize it’s been around half an hour? Do you think we should check on Saffron?’

‘I’ll go,’ Paul says, jumping off the kitchen counter.

‘You should all go,’ Holly says. ‘I’ll stay here with the kids, but I’m jealous. I love smelling this clean country air at night.’

‘Wait until morning,’ Anna says. ‘The views are to die for. At least walk some of the way with us, sample what I’m talking about.’

‘Saff!’ they all chorus as they walk up the driveway, then more urgently as they reach the end. ‘Saff? Saff!’

‘Oh fuck,’ Paul says suddenly. ‘I know exactly where she is.’

‘I don’t suppose there’s a pub nearby, is there?’ Holly looks at Paul with eyebrow raised.

‘Funny you should mention it. I’ll go.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ Anna says, concern written all over her face. ‘God, you don’t really think she’s drinking? She said this morning that this was it, she wouldn’t drink again.’

‘From what I read this morning online,’ Holly says, ‘those statements are pretty much par for the course.’

‘You mean they don’t mean anything?’

‘Coming from an alcoholic in relapse? I’d say not worth the paper they’re written on.’

‘Great,’ Anna groans as she makes her way gingerly back to the house to get the car keys. ‘Can you perhaps put the kettle on for coffee?’

Chapter Twenty-two

Saffron has passed out on a pink and orange inflatable bed in one of the bedrooms off the gallery upstairs. The children are fast asleep, Anna and Holly are in the kitchen making coffee, and Olivia is helping Paul bring logs in from the shed outside to keep the fire going.

It is almost as cold inside the house as it is outside. Holly leans back on the counter as Anna puts the kettle on the stove and practises blowing smoke rings with her breath.

‘I am really sorry,’ Anna mutters, rubbing her hands together over the gas flame of the stove. ‘I think the pipes must have frozen or burst or something. I cannot say I expected to have a load of friends down just yet.’

‘I think we’re probably all much hardier than we look,’ Holly says. ‘Anyway, I for one certainly feel spoilt by the way we live. It seems ridiculous to have all the stuff we have, and this feels sort of like getting back to basics. This barn is gorgeous, and it just makes you realize that you only need a few things to make it perfect – a sofa, a table…’

‘… beds.’ Anna laughs.

‘Well, yes, but not all the things that we all tend to collect. I just feel like I have so much, and all of it’s so unnecessary. I just don’t need all of this
stuff
.’

‘Paul said you’d brought most of the stuff with you…’ Anna turns to give Holly a questioning look. ‘Is everything okay?’

‘Well, I feel like saying it’s a long story, but it really isn’t.’ She takes a deep breath. ‘I think I’ve left Marcus.’

‘I should say I’m surprised, but I am not.’ Anna frowns.

‘I have a feeling that nobody is. The truth is, Anna, I haven’t been happy for ages. Years, I think. Not that there haven’t been happy moments within that time, and obviously I’ve got my wonderful children, but I think it just dawned on me really recently that the thing that’s making me so unhappy is the one thing I haven’t been able to face.’

‘Your marriage.’

‘My marriage. For so many reasons. I never see Marcus, I don’t feel that we have a marriage, or a partnership of any kind.’ Holly sighs deeply. It is good to finally talk about this, to say all these hidden thoughts out loud, the thoughts that have kept her awake night after night for months. The thoughts she was too frightened to face.

‘I don’t feel that we’re nice to each other,’ she continues. ‘There’s no kindness or respect or love. And by the way, I’m just as bad to him. It feels like we’re in a constant war of words and wits, our humour always at the other’s expense.’

‘Do you think he loves you?’ Anna asks.

Holly sighs. ‘I think he loves who he wants me to be, which isn’t who I am. I don’t think he’s the slightest bit interested in any parts of Holly that don’t fit the
picture he has of me in his mind, so I’ve become someone else, a Holly I don’t recognize. And although it’s fun to step into somebody else’s shoes, to play a part for a while, it’s finite. It’s not something you can do for ever.’

‘To thine own self be true,’ Anna says. ‘My grandfather always used to say that, except in Swedish, obviously.’

‘It’s so true.’ Holly nods. ‘I haven’t been true to myself at all. I understand the reasons why I married him. On paper he seemed to be everything I thought I should want. I was completely on the rebound, and he appeared to offer such a glamorous, steady, wonderful life. I thought… well… I suppose I knew I wasn’t in love with him, but I thought we’d have a different kind of love. I thought it would grow, and I kept telling myself that passion always dies, so it didn’t matter if you didn’t have it there in the beginning, and that the important thing is that you’re best friends.’

Anna tilts her head. ‘It sounds like you never thought it was possible to have passion and a best friend.’

Tears suddenly fill Holly’s eyes. ‘I didn’t. I didn’t think I could do better than Marcus, and he seemed to adore me, and, honestly, I’d never been adored and I thought that was enough.’

‘I hope you do not take this the wrong way,’ Anna says carefully, ‘but that night we all came over for dinner, when Paul and I left, he asked me if I thought the marriage was okay.’

‘He did? But how could he have known anything when I didn’t even know myself?’

‘For exactly the reasons you just gave to me. There did not seem to be any kindness between you. You were funny together and obviously something worked, but he seemed to take every opportunity to put you down, pretending to be funny except it was not funny. It was horribly uncomfortable. I think he put down everyone. It would seem to be a habit of his.’

‘I know.’ Holly winces. ‘He isn’t bad, he’s just incredibly insecure with an enormous superiority complex that disguises an even bigger inferiority complex. He thinks he’s being funny, but it’s a way to subtly keep everyone beneath him.’

Other books

A Magical Friend by Chloe Ryder
Stark's War by John G. Hemry
Just a Flirt by Olivia Noble
All We Want Is Everything by Andrew F Sullivan
Bayne by Buckley, Misa
My Sergei by Ekaterina Gordeeva, E. M. Swift
The Only Poet by Rebecca West
Without Saying a Word by Ward, Amanda