Independent Jenny (20 page)

Chapter Forty-Six

“It’s really lovely,” I told Anna, one of my brides-to-be as she showed me around her ground floor flat. It had a spacious living room with a fireplace and a large window letting lots of light in. In the small kitchen, which had been recently re-fitted, the oven looked liked it’d never been used. There was one bedroom, which was enough space for my queen size bed for me and my furry friend, which led to a shiny bathroom with a power shower. The walls throughout were standard magnolia, and out back there was a small garden for Wentworth to run around in, with a patio and a bit of grass, plus a short but pretty weeping birch tree in the far corner. I could definitely see myself living here.

“Thanks. When I moved in with Clive, we did it up a bit. I’d love to rent it to someone I know and trust.”

We had only met twice before; once at a wedding exhibition I’d taken part in at a local hotel, and again at my studio when she came to look at my portfolio and book her wedding in, but I guess that was better than a complete stranger.

“And you won’t mind my dog coming with me?”

“No, not at all, he’s so sweet and lovely.”

She hadn’t seen him eating fox poo or splashing in muddy puddles, but I thought it was better not to mention that. I looked out at the garden again and pictured him ruining her grass as he run about, then back at the laminated flooring and pictured his fur floating all over it. Daily hoovering is required with golden retrievers. It was a good job for him that he was so good looking, when I came to think of it. And sweet tempered.

The flat really was very nice and on a quiet side road, not a very long walk from Shane’s place or my studio, and most importantly it was cheap.

“What’s the parking like outside?” I asked.

“Never had any problems.”

“And the neighbours?”

“Don’t see them much, but they’re friendly enough.”

I nodded and wandered back towards the bedroom.

“So you like it?” she asked as I peered into the bathroom for a second time. Everything was immaculately clean, and it would be mine; my own place for the new, single, independent Jenny I was about to get to know and respect.

“It’s just what I’m looking for,” I said, a big smile on my face. “When can I move in?”

Her face lit up.

“As soon as you like.”

“How about this weekend?”

We talked through the necessary arrangements and once everything was settled, I left her to call Clive and tell him the good news.

I didn’t feel like going back to Shane’s just yet so I walked idly for a while. Anna and Clive had seemed so happy when they came to see me a few weeks earlier. They told me how they’d fallen in love while at university as they flicked through my portfolio, and they reminded me of Ross and I back in our heyday. I shook my head to dispel the thought; there was no point reliving the good times. Maybe one day I’d be able to think about those moments and reminisce, but right now it was too painful a reminder of how badly it’d gone wrong. I needed a clean break and to clear my head of Ross. Which made me decide to go round there and talk to him about the stuff I wanted from the house. I turned on my heel and walked towards my old home.

As I got to my old familiar front door, I hesitated. Was I really ready for all of this? A small part of me wanted to hold on to this limbo period, staying at Shane’s, not really moving on. The other part knew I’d be outstaying my welcome very soon, if I hadn’t already, and I had to take this step. I looked at the black paint peeling in one corner of the front door and wondered if Ross would notice or bother to re-paint it without me there to tell him about all the jobs that needed doing. Probably not. But did that stuff really matter? It had mattered to me while we were together, but somehow, now apart, I realised that those little things meant nothing, when it came down to it. I rang the doorbell.

I could hear his footsteps in the hallway and I felt the butterflies rush to my chest. No matter how nice he was to me, I couldn’t allow myself to feel attracted to him anymore, not if I wanted to move on and start my new life without him. But then he was there in front of me again, the man who I’d fallen in love with once, had placed all my hopes and future dreams in. Yet he was also the man who’d let me down. His feet were bare; his socks no doubt left lying around somewhere. Somehow, the thought seemed endearing now that I wasn’t the one to have to pick them up.

He looked surprised to see me.

“You could’ve used your key,” he said instead of greeting me.

“No, I don’t live here anymore, Ross,” I said gently.

“Come in,” he said a little coldly, walking away and leaving the door open.

The house looked exactly as it had before. Even the post was in a neat little pile on the table in the hallway. The framed photos of my parents were still hanging up, albeit with a thin layer of dust on them. And Ross was taking my favourite mug out of the kitchen cupboard and putting it on the counter ready to make me a drink. How familiar it all was, yet so strange to be back. It felt like a lifetime since I’d been here, since we’d gone about our routine and I’d been blissfully ignorant of what he was up to.

I hovered in the kitchen doorway and watched as he flicked the kettle on. Was I really never going to cook in here again? Never going to stand in that exact spot and hear him come through the front door? No more barbecues in the garden outside that kitchen window; no more seducing each other over several glasses of wine; no more Wentworth sitting between us on the sofa while we got addicted to a TV series … No more Ross. For better or worse, I’d promised to love him. And, despite his betrayal, it felt like I was the one breaking that promise. I was the one saying it was over. How had I become the guilty party? I gulped, hoping I could make it through this conversation.

“Tea or coffee?” he asked, turning his handsome face around to look at me. His eyes looked tired, and I wondered whether he’d not been sleeping well.

“Tea please,” I watched him making the drinks, wondering how we’d gone from a couple in love to an awkward silence in what seemed like a relatively short amount of time. I went and sat at the kitchen table and he joined me with our two hot mugs.

“So, it’s nice to see you. How are you?” he asked, followed by a genuine smile.

“I’m good. You?”

“I’m fine.”

“How’s Aiden?” I asked, thinking we might as well get the elephant in the room out in the open.

“He’s alright. Sad, but okay.”

“I’m glad you’re friends again.”

“I can’t blame him for trying, you’re a good catch.”

I smiled and sipped my tea.

“So are you staying with Shane again?”

“Yes, but just now I’ve been to see a flat, actually.”

Why did I feel so nervous? This conversation had a strange sense of finality about it. Despite the fact that I’d gone to Skye and had the kiss of my life with another man. Despite the fact that I’d slept with his brother, it was only now that I really felt things were officially coming to an end with Ross.

“Oh yeah, whereabouts?”

I told him the street name and he nodded. “Not far from your studio.”

“Exactly, it’s perfect.”

“Nice inside?”

“Yes, it’s lovely.”

He nodded.

“I’m glad you’re happy with it.”

“Yeah, it’s ideal for me really.”

“Good, I’m pleased for you.”

“Thanks.”

“So…”

“I’m going to move in next weekend.”

“Right, okay.”

“So we need to sort out all our stuff.”

“Yes.”

I looked at his cheerless eyes and a sudden sadness flooded me. Was this what it’d come to – dividing up a bunch of material possessions?

“I don’t want much really,” I told him quickly. “Just the personal bits, maybe the sofas and the spare bed, you can keep the rest if you like?”

“I’ll take the spare bed, you take the expensive one.”

“Okay, if you don’t mind.”

“Well, I do mind, of course. I mind all of it. I want you to come back, but I can’t have that can I?”

I looked at him and didn’t know what to say. I could get up right now and put my arms around him and tell him I’d move back in. But how could I know if I really wanted to, or if I was just dodging being alone again? And where would we go from here?

Yet, looking at the face I fell in love with, I couldn’t completely dismiss the idea.

“No, Ross, I’m not coming back…”

I was going to add a ‘but’, but I hesitated, unsure how to continue.

He sighed. “Worth a shot. If you ever want to, I don’t know, go on a date, or something, start back at the very beginning, then call me, okay?”

I considered for a second what I’d think of him if we met now, and he asked me on a date. I’d still be attracted to him and I’d probably say yes. So what was stopping me? How could I trust a stranger any more than him anyway?

“How about when I’m settled, we get together for a drink?”

His face lit up into that familiar big grin. “That’d be great! But you could just move back in. I’ll sleep in the spare room.”

“No, I need to do this Ross. I need to be on my own for a bit. And I don’t want you to get your hopes up. I’m just saying, we could try. If you just give me maybe a few weeks to be on my own, and then maybe we’ll go for a drink and see if starting over is a possibility. But no promises.”

He was still smiling and nodding. He went to take my hands but I pulled away.

“Not yet,” I told him, not wanting to back down on my resolve.

“Okay, okay.” He sat back, smiled and picked up his tea. I did the same. “So are you still happy to help me move?”

He agreed and we talked about the logistics for a while. He didn’t mind what I took so I said I’d take the television from the bedroom and a few lamps and other small kitchen items. He said he’d go sofa shopping and I said I’d hire a van. I felt awkward and uncomfortable, but it went better than I expected.

As I got up to leave, he gave me a quick hug and he smelled good.

“I miss you,” he said into my hair.

“I miss you, too,” I admitted.

“Then stay!” he said, pulling away but holding me close to him with his hands on my shoulders.

I looked up at him and for a split second, I thought about kissing him and letting all this upheaval and hurt and scary independence stuff drift away. We could go back to how it was. But I knew it wasn’t that easy. And the more I thought about her, the more I wanted to meet Independent Jenny and see how she got on.

“Please Ross, I need some space”

“I’m sorry. Well, just so you know, while you’re getting your space, I’ll be the best friend you ever had. And I’ll be getting some help – I’ve been seeing this great therapist. Maybe if things do go well, and we start dating, we could go and see her together? She’s really good.”

“That all sounds good, but just give me time, don’t rush me.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

He looked so happy I was worried I’d got his hopes up too high, but something about keeping it open and the possibility that there was an optimistic future out there for us was uplifting and I felt happier than I had done for a while.

I gave him a very quick hug goodbye and walked hurriedly back to Shane’s. It’d been almost two weeks since I’d told Aiden it was all off, and I hadn’t seen him since. Shane and Andrew were being kind and welcoming but it was time to finally sort my life out.

Chapter Forty-Seven

I got in and prepared a lasagne; Shane and Andrew wouldn’t charge me rent so I was trying to cook and clean for them as much as possible. Then I went and sat on the sofa with Wentworth and searched online for all the things I’d need for my new place. Ross had never been particularly fussy but it was nice to pick out furniture and appliances without having to consider anyone else’s opinion.

The next week flew by; I’d done a few school photo shoots and I had a lot to sort through, plus a few weddings from the end of the season. I worked hard, met with bronzed couples who’d returned from their honeymoons, drank coffee in Shane’s cafe and before I knew it, I was moving into my new flat.

“Blimey Jen, you’ve got a lot of stuff,” Andrew told me, carrying yet another box from my car to the front door.

“We’re nearly done,” I told him, grateful for the help. I lifted up a black bag full of clothes and followed him in. As I got to the front door I glanced back and saw Shane and Ross heave the sofa out of the van and bring it towards me. I dumped my clothes in the bedroom and went in to see them set it down gently in the living room, opposite the television unit I’d picked up and put together all by myself the night before. I was quite proud of my DIY talents. Who needed a husband? Not me.

But then Ross looked at me sadly and said, “Well I guess I’ll leave you to it,” and I almost grabbed him and asked him to stay with me, just for the first night.

“Thanks for helping,” I said, giving him a quick hug.

“It’s the least I could do isn’t it?” he said sadly. I turned away, unable to look him in the eye. “I guess I’ll be going then.”

“Thank you, again.”

“No worries.”

“I’ll see you soon?” I asked.

“I’d like that. How about I leave you to settle in and then we go for a drink? Maybe dinner?”

“I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

He squeezed my arm and I glanced at him. His eyes were watery. I smiled and he smiled back, then he turned and left. I shut the front door and turned back to face my chaotic flat; boxes and black bin bags everywhere.

“All right?” Shane asked. I nodded and bit my lip.

He gave me a quick hug. “Come on,” he said, “we’ll help you unpack.”

My two saviours continued working until it started getting dark, putting cutlery in drawers, making up my bed, lining books on shelves. Wentworth roamed from room to room, a little unsettled, before finally settling on the familiar sofa and snoozing while we moved around him.

“This place is perfect,” Andrew told me when we finally sat down. Shane had bought some champagne to celebrate and I served them each a full mug. Ross had kept all the glasses.

“To Independent Jenny!” Shane raised his mug and we chinked all three together.

“Thank you both so much for everything,” I told them. “And not just today but everything since Ross and I split up. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

“You’re stronger than you think, Jen,” Shane told me. I wasn’t sure where he got that notion from but I was too tired to argue.

We ordered a pizza and they stayed with me until late, for which I was grateful. When the time eventually came for them to leave they didn’t make a big deal of it, just gave me a quick kiss and a hug and then they were on their way, leaving me and Wentworth alone.

I was surprisingly calm, that night. I lay in bed, my fingers playing with the long fur on Wentworth’s tail, thinking about all that had happened. I hadn’t heard from Will since that last email, and although it hurt, I genuinely hoped he was happy and that he and Mandy had worked it out.

Okay, who was I kidding? I didn’t want him to be with her, I wanted him to be with me. But seeing as he was married and four hundred miles away, I didn’t know how that could ever happen. So I was going to stop thinking about him.

That was easier said than done, but I did manage to carry on with life without being too depressed. The first few weeks in the flat were tough, but I managed okay. Shane showed me how to change a light bulb and, so far, I hadn’t encountered any spiders. I managed to put together a nest of tables, and Sadie came to visit one weekend when we successfully installed a wardrobe. She slept on my sofa that night and we spent the rest of the weekend drinking wine, chatting to Mum and watching girly movies.

Ross texted me a few times, and I sent friendly replies but asked that we hold off on the whole drinks/dinner/date thing. I was enjoying being on my own, and although I missed him, I didn’t want to see him until I felt really settled, for fear of rushing back to him and making a mistake.

I got into a nice routine during the weekdays. I kept as busy as I could with work during the day and went out walking with Shane and the dogs in the early evenings. I painted my bedroom and I bought a few plants for my little garden.

I even managed to feel genuine happiness again for the couples I photographed on their wedding days, and actually enjoy all the big smiles, big dresses, big cakes. I googled the latest stats and it turned out that 42% of marriages ended in divorce, so that meant approximately six in every ten weddings I photographed resulted in the couple really staying together until ‘death do us part’. That was more than half, and that was enough to make me ensure they had photos to relive that day when they made that commitment to each other.

So I was alright on my own, and now couldn’t fathom why I’d been so scared before, or why my mum had never really tried it. I was lonely at times, but mostly I was reasonably cheerful until bedtime. That was when I started to feel a little low. I’d lie under the duvet thinking about Will, wishing I was back at Elgol, leaning against him while our dogs ran in and out of the water.