Time After Time (11 page)

When Hayley rang Ellen and Mark’s doorbell she listened for the familiar sound of Morgan’s little feet pitter-pattering on the hardwood floor, but she heard nothing, not even Morgan the dog’s bark. She didn’t have much time to wonder what other oddities awaited on the other side of the door because Mark opened it, one arm already in his leather jacket.

‘Hey, you,’ he said. Hayley breathed a sigh of relief. At least Mark seemed to be his normal, curly-haired, friendly self. But then he lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘Ellen told me to go for a walk. Make that a
long
walk.’

‘Really?’ Hayley said, and frowned.

‘Well …’ He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘You know. Anyway, we got a gecko this morning, so she’s in a good mood. Ellen, I mean, not the gecko.’ Mark chuckled.

‘Where’s Morgan?’ Hayley said, looking around. Surely she and Ian would have paid for at least one round of IVF. They could have funded an entire clinic.

‘Who? Is someone else coming round?’

‘No, I … I …,’ Hayley stammered.

Shit!

‘Okay but listen, Ellen won’t tell you this because she’s as stubborn as a constipated mule, but she misses you. A lot. We both do. I’d better go. Good luck.’ He gave her hand an affectionate squeeze and disappeared down the garden path, zipping up his jacket as he went.

As Hayley walked down the hall to the kitchen, wondering why Ellen missed her, she stopped to have a quick look around the living room. Nothing seemed to have changed compared to when Hayley was there the day before; there were still no signs of a little girl – or boy – living there.

Ellen was in the kitchen, ironing a pair of Mark’s trousers, and she stopped to look up when Hayley walked in.

‘You’re very smart,’ Ellen finally said.

Hayley looked down at her black Gucci dress and impossibly high heels. ‘We had a snobby party but I did a bunk.’ She grinned and Ellen looked at her with a furrowed brow but made no comment. ‘Thank god you’re in. I really need to talk to you. I think I’m going mad.’ She pointed at the tank on the kitchen counter. ‘What’s that?’

‘It’s our new Leopard Gecko,’ Ellen said. ‘We got her this morning. I’m thinking of calling her –’

‘Morgan?’

Ellen’s eyes widened. ‘Yeah, how did you know?’

‘You always liked the name,’ Hayley answered as she put her arms around Ellen for a hug. ‘It’s so good to see you.’

She felt Ellen stiffen and then push her away. ‘Have you been drinking?’

‘What?’ Hayley waved a hand. ‘Oh, yeah. I had a gin and tonic but only because a short fat bloke made a pass at me.’

Ellen attempted to laugh but the unhappy sound seemed to catch in her throat. ‘Is that your latest excuse?’

Hayley’s expression turned into a frown. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Oh for god’s sake,’ Ellen said as she resumed ironing the trousers with such vigour it would have done the Royal Navy proud. ‘I haven’t seen you for nine months and you’re still lying.’

‘Nine months?’

Ellen shook her head. ‘When Mark said you called I thought you were ready to do something about it. I meant what I said when we met last time. I won’t see you until you accept you’re an alcoholic.’

‘Hang on! I’m not an alcoholic.’

Ellen rolled her eyes and put the iron on its end. It made a loud hissing noise as the steam escaped and billowed towards the ceiling. ‘Then there’s nothing left to say, so why don’t you leave?’

‘Wait, don’t make me go,’ Hayley said. She paused and ran a hand over her face, wondering how she could possibly explain what was going on when she didn’t fully understand it yet herself. She had to try. ‘You’re sure I didn’t see you yesterday?’

‘What?’

‘You don’t remember anything? About me waking up with Chris Jenkins.’

‘Chris Jenkins?’ Ellen said as she bent over to unplug the iron. ‘Bloody hell, Hayley.’ When she straightened herself back up she put her hands on her hips. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve had an affair with him too?’

Hayley took a deep breath. ‘And you don’t know Rick, do you?’

‘Rick who?’ She paused. ‘You should see a doctor.’ An even longer pause. ‘A shrink.’

Hayley pressed her hands over her eyes, trying to think.

I’m not married to Chris. I’m married to Ian. Yesterday was Saturday. Today is Saturday.

She caught her breath and watched as Ellen’s steely glare surveyed her every move.

This must be another glimpse, surely. Just a quick look at the way life might have been.

Wondering
what if
had been a fun game, at first, one she’d play during her commute. A harmless distraction – except the daydreams had become more and more frequent, to the point of becoming almost all consuming. She’d fantasise about where she would be, what she’d be doing, and with whom. And now she didn’t need to wonder anymore. Somehow she’d moved from one alternate life to another.

But how? And which life is real?

She gasped.

Is
anything
real? Am I supposed to choose?

‘Help me,’ Hayley whispered as she lowered herself into a chair. She hated the disapproval in Ellen’s eyes, something she hadn’t seen since she’d told her she was moving to Edinburgh. ‘Talk to me.
Please.
’

Ellen stared at her, sighed and flicked the kettle on. She silently dropped a teabag into each of the mugs she got from the cupboard.

‘I’ll make us a sandwich,’ she said, ‘Looks like you could do with ten.’

Without another word, Ellen pulled a loaf of bread from the cupboard and fetched cheese, tomatoes and mayonnaise from the fridge. When she’d finished making their snack, she loaded up a plastic tray then gestured for Hayley to follow her to the living room, where she sat down.

Hayley collapsed on the sofa opposite, pushing off her Louboutin’s and curling her feet underneath her. When Ellen passed her a full plate, she greedily sank her teeth into the squidgy sandwich and almost ate half of it in one bite.

‘So what do you want to talk about?’ Ellen asked.

Hayley put a hand over her mouth as she chewed quickly and then swallowed. ‘Tell me about Ian and me. Tell me about you and me,’ she said. ‘Tell me your side. It’ll help me figure things out.’ She realised Ellen would think she was owning up to being an alcoholic, but she didn’t care. Details, however small and potentially insignificant, might help her get out of this mess.

‘You want the whole, warts-and-all, ugly truth?’

‘Yes, all of it.’

Ellen looked at her for a moment and pursed her lips, apparently contemplating the options. ‘On three conditions,’ she finally said.

‘Anything,’ Hayley said, bobbing her head up and down. ‘Anything you want.’

Ellen counted on her fingers. ‘One, you’ll shut up until I’ve finished.’

Hayley put the rest of her sandwich down, then pretended to zip up her lips and throw away a key.

‘Two, when I criticise Ian you won’t defend him like you usually do.’

‘Not likely,’ Hayley said and Ellen shushed her. ‘Sorry. What’s the third?’

‘You won’t pretend everything’s,’ she made air quotation marks, ‘absolutely-
fucking
-perfect.’ Hayley shook her head.

‘Right then. My take on you and Ian? Blimey,’ Ellen shook her head as she sat back. ‘The match made in the depths of hell. I don’t even know where to start.’

Hayley soon realised that things in Edinburgh weren’t going to be fine. Not even close.

‘Make yourself comfortable,’ Ian had said when they’d first arrived. ‘But please don’t move any of my things, I like them the way they are.’

Consequently, Hayley left her knick-knacks in the boxes they’d arrived in and only unpacked half of her clothes.

The first few weeks had been quite exciting as she perused the job adverts in
The Herald
and explored the city as if she were on holiday. But then Ian started working late so frequently that she spent most of her evenings alone too. She’d spoken to Ellen on the phone but the atmosphere between them remained frosty.

‘So how are things with you two?’ Ellen said one evening.

‘Oh perfect. Everything’s just wonderful,’ Hayley answered quickly. ‘I’m so glad I moved here.’

She didn’t say that she felt like a guest in Ian’s huge flat. Or that its sparse furniture made it look more like a museum of modern art rather than the love-nest she’d been hoping to build with him. And she certainly wasn’t going to mention that he hadn’t touched her in over a week. It was just a phase anyway. He was so busy with work and had more important things he needed to take care of. This is what a grown up relationship was like. At least that’s what Hayley kept telling herself.

When Ian mentioned she’d put on weight, Hayley started walking around the city even more. She went down Princes Street, strolled through the parks and lingered to watch people play tennis at The Meadows, wishing it was her and Ian.

In the evenings she usually ate alone and had a glass or two of wine. On a few occasions she drank an entire bottle out of boredom.

One Thursday morning Hayley sifted through the post as she sipped her freshly squeezed orange juice. She came across an envelope from a local firm, McNealy & Partners, and tore it open, her eyes moving swiftly across the page. Barely reading past the first sentence, Hayley’s shoulder sank at the rejection. She’d applied for various jobs in the five weeks since she’d arrived in Edinburgh, certain she’d be snapped up within days. But now her savings were slowly running out and she was fed up with spending time alone with no money and nothing to do. She’d mentioned her frustrations to Ian a week ago, when she’d waited up for him to get back from work.

‘I’ll introduce you to my connections at some point,’ he said. ‘But I’ve been too busy. Actually, I’m thinking of buying a local company but I’m not happy with the terms of the contract. Why don’t you have a look and tell me what you think?’ Then he’d kissed her on the top of the head and gone to the bedroom. By the time she’d slipped between the sheets he was breathing deeply, but Hayley was sure he was awake.

She ripped the letter up into tiny pieces and ate half of her croissant before chucking the rest in the bin. Food was vastly overrated, and he was right, she could stand to lose weight, show him she could be the girlfriend he wanted her to be.

After breakfast, Hayley decided she and Ian needed a romantic night in. Feeling fresh enthusiasm, she went shopping, using their joint housekeeping money to fund the Beef Wellington she’d seen a recipe for. She spent the afternoon making a
gratin dauphinois
and green beans wrapped in bacon to go with the beef, and a white and dark chocolate mousse for dessert.

As she listened to Mozart’s ‘Piano Concerto No. 24’ – Ian had encouraged her to enjoy classical music – she poured herself a glass of wine, thinking that a little drop of chilled Chardonnay was well deserved, considering the effort she was going to.

She laid the table with Ian’s elegant china, heavy silverware and crystal glasses. As she appraised the results of her domestic goddess skills, she added the finishing touch in the middle of the table; a single red rose in a dainty Waterford vase.

When Ian came home she wished she’d waited for him wearing only heels and a tie like Julia Roberts in
Pretty Woman
– he might have taken notice if she had. Despite trying to engage him in conversation, he answered in monosyllables.

‘What’s wrong?’ she eventually asked him over dessert.

‘Nothing,’ he said as he pushed the chocolate mousse around his plate.

Hayley sighed. ‘Well something’s bothering you.’

He put down his spoon and looked at her. ‘Hayley, this is a bit difficult for me.’

Hayley froze.

Difficult? What’s difficult? Is it bad?

He leaned over and put his hand on hers, then smiled.

No … no of course not. Maybe … maybe he’s going to tell me he loves me. Or …

She could hardly breathe as her heart started pounding and her brain went into overdrive.

She smiled back at him and sat up straight, inwardly practicing the look of astonishment she’d use when he got out a massive diamond ring.

‘Go on, you can tell me,’ she said, picturing herself in a flowing wedding dress with Ian by her side. She’d want a spring or summer wedding. Maybe autumn, but definitely not winter, it would be too cold.

Why did I think it would be bad news? Silly!

He patted her hand and she watched his smile disappear. ‘This isn’t working,’ he said flatly, ripping Hayley out of her fantasy.

‘Wh-what do you mean?’

‘Us. The relationship.’

Hayley drew in a sharp breath. ‘Us? Why?’

‘I’m sorry, but I’m not in love with you.’

She put a hand to her mouth.

Ian sat back in his chair and smoothed down his trousers. ‘You should go back to London. I’ll stay in a hotel over the weekend so you can get yourself organised.’

Hayley finally found her voice. ‘Are you sure? I … I mean … that you don’t love me?’ It sounded pathetic, and she knew it, but she needed something – anything – to stop her from feeling like she was drowning in the quicksands of despair.

‘Yes, I’m sure.’

‘But, but …
why
?’ Her hands were franticly clutching for the thinnest straw Ian was prepared to extend to her. She couldn’t leave Edinburgh, go back to London with the proverbial tail between her legs. They were in love. It was supposed to be a fairy tale. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘What do you want me to say? This isn’t for me.’

‘What? You couldn’t figure this out before I came here?’

Ian shrugged. ‘I think we needed to live together so I could be sure.’ He held up his hands, palms facing her. ‘Sorry.’

‘
Sorry
?’ Hayley hissed. ‘How could you do this? I gave up everything for you.
Everything.
’ She paused. ‘Have … have you met someone …?’

Ian folded his napkin and looked away.

‘When?’ she shouted as she got up. ‘Who is she?’

He exhaled.

‘Tell me.’

He looked at her. ‘A couple of weeks ago, at work.’

The tears came. ‘So that’s where you’ve been every night?’

‘I never made any promises, Hayley. I never committed to anything.’

‘No,’ Hayley said. ‘You bloody sodding fucking well didn’t.’

Holding her head high she stomped into the guest bedroom and slammed the door. Then she fell on the bed, hot and bitter tears streaming down her face, wishing Ian would come into the bedroom to tell her he’d made a mistake, that he’d changed his mind.

For a split-second when Hayley woke up the next morning she thought everything would be okay. She rushed out of the bedroom, hoping to find Ian with a large bunch of flowers and a heartfelt apology. But only a note lay on the kitchen counter. Her hands trembled as she snatched it up, desperate for a miracle.

Hayley,

I’m sorry. Please leave my keys with Mrs. Phillips next door when you return to London.

Ian.

Hayley’s fingers ran over the paper again and again. She felt belittled, betrayed and angry – not just at Ian, but also at herself. Once again she’d let a boyfriend’s actions blindside her. Or was it that she’d been blind? But she loved him, admired him, wanted to be with him.

When she didn’t have any tears left, she picked up the phone and called Ellen, wanting to get the ‘I told you so’ conversation out of the way as quickly as possible.

Ellen listened intently and then said: ‘Get your stuff ready. We’ll come and get you tomorrow and stay the night. So open his best bottle of wine. Make that bottles.’

*

Hayley’s return to London was difficult at first. Before moving to Edinburgh she’d told everybody about her plans and had gushed about how much in love she and Ian were. She hated the pitying looks and whispers behind her back when she bumped into friends.

Shortly after moving back, Hayley spent a week in Kent with Jackie and Ray, grateful for the change of scene and the slower pace the countryside offered.

‘Only four months left to go,’ Jackie said, rubbing her belly as they were out shopping for groceries. ‘Actually, we were wondering if you’d like to be the baby’s godmother.’ She looked at Hayley. ‘What do you think?’

‘Me?’ Hayley said. ‘Are you sure? I’d love to but you’ll have to show me how it works.’

‘It?’ Jackie laughed. ‘What do you mean, it?’

Seeing her sister so blissfully happy opened Hayley’s eyes to the many things Ellen had been trying to tell her about her relationship with Ian. Ray rubbed Jackie’s swollen feet with his bear-sized hands and brought her a cardigan when she was cold. In turn, Jackie made Ray’s lunch, a cheese and onion sandwich, every single morning before they went to work, despite the fact that the smell of the onions almost made her gag.

‘Why didn’t you move back in with Ellen and Mark?’ Jackie said.

Hayley shook her head. ‘They need to live alone. And I haven’t seen Mum and Dad much over the past year or so. Living with them is kind of nice.’

Jackie nodded. ‘We all missed you.’

Hayley looked away. ‘I know,’ she said quietly. ‘I missed you all too.’

A week later Hayley finally summoned up the courage to call Ronald.

‘We’d be delighted to have you back, on one condition,’ he said, after he’d listened to her story.

‘Anything.’

‘You’ll work with me again and concentrate on mergers and acquisitions.’

‘
Really
?’ Hayley said, smiling.

‘Really. And let me say that Mr. Graham is a complete fool,’ Ronald said. ‘So, can you start on Monday? Or tomorrow?’

The next day Tony popped into her new office. ‘Come here, you.’ He gave her a squeeze. ‘Sorry things didn’t work out with Ian.’

‘Me too,’ Hayley said, willing herself not to cry each time his name came up. ‘I’m just glad Ronald wanted me back. Now all I need is a place to live.’

‘Oh, I didn’t know you were looking.’ Tony rubbed his chin. ‘Do you remember my cousin Gail?’

‘The one who picked you up for lunch once? Looks like Monica from
Friends
?’

‘Yep, that’s the one. She took a three-month contract in Sweden but now she’s staying there for good. She’s needs someone to take over the lease on her flat.’

‘Really?’ Hayley tried not to read much into the statement but couldn’t stop the excitement that bounced around in her belly. She started to grin.

‘Yeah. It’s on the first floor of a house in Hammersmith, near Yeldham Road. It isn’t very big but I think the rent’s reasonable.’ He looked at her and wrinkled his nose. ‘Nah. Forget it. Doesn’t look like you’re that interested.’ He pretended to leave but she caught the smile on his face.

‘Tony,’ she said, grabbing onto his arm, ‘If you take one more step I’ll staple your tie to my brand new desk.’

She rushed out to see the flat that same day and moved in a week later. Ellen helped her furnish it exactly the way Hayley wanted it; warm and peaceful with cheap, ‘gently used’ pieces and hand-me-downs. She found a squishy red sofa and a bashed-up pine coffee table she swore she’d let everybody put their feet on. When she brought it home she smiled, thinking that Ian wouldn’t be seen dead with something so
passé
in his sterile living room, nor would he have approved of her buying a PlayStation and
Tomb Raider.

The landlord agreed to take up the old, stained carpets and replace them with laminate throughout the flat, and she added a few area rugs for splashes of colour. For her bedroom she purposely bought a new duvet and soft pastel-flowered bedding only she had slept on.

This is my home.

She never brought a man back to her flat because she didn’t want to contaminate it with memories of bad dates. Instead, she had a few choice encounters but always went back to theirs.

Hayley wrote a note that said ‘I will not let myself be hurt again’ and stuck it on her bathroom mirror. It became the mantra she repeated daily and she meant every word.

Sitting at her desk at work on a sunny Friday morning, Hayley smiled. She finally felt back in control, healthy and, despite being alone, much happier than she had in ages. Her phone rang.

‘Hayley Adams.’

‘Hey,’ Ellen said. ‘How are you?’

‘Perfect. Guess what? I realised I haven’t thought about Ian for almost three days. Well, I did just now but that doesn’t count. I think I’m over him.’

‘That’s great, good for you. Still coming over tonight? We’ll celebrate. See you at seven?’

‘Yup. See you.’

The phone rang again as soon as Hayley put it down.

‘Yes, yes, I’ll bring the curry,’ Hayley said, laughing.

‘Curry? Hayley, it’s Ian.’

Hayley’s hand slipped and she almost dropped the phone.

Just when I thought it was safe to go back in the water …

‘I know it’s been a while,’ Ian continued. ‘I’m in the city on business. Have lunch with me today?’

Tell him to go fuck himself.

‘That would be nice,’ she answered.

Damn it! You stupid cow.

‘I’ll pick you up at twelve.’ Ian hung up before she could change her mind.