it for him for Christmas. The last Christmas we were together. The first Christmas we had been an engaged couple.
He had betrayed me. My soulmate. The man who I had tried to help. Who I had let take his rage out on me in the hope that one day he would be spent of it all. But he had betrayed and humiliated me – although I knew the worst of the humiliation was still to come when the news spread. When people started talking. Leaving ‘supportive’ messages on my Facebook page. Inspirational quotes. Songs. When I unpublished the dream wedding Pinterest board and the beautifully filtered Instagram pictures of us walking along the beach. When I realised, or accepted, what a lie it had all been.
When I knew that it had been my fault for wanting it as much as I did. For letting him do to me what he did. Because I thought we could be happy. I had no one to blame but myself. Those words were so true.
And of course, I’d love to say those moments – that night and the days that followed when I dismantled my real life, along with my virtual existence – were the lowest I sank. But they weren’t, of course.
The worst would come later.
I was shocked and surprised to find out I was being offered the job at the dentist’s. Okay it was a much lower salary than I had been paid in the call centre (and that had been a shockingly low salary to start with) but it did offer me the new start I had been longing for.
I sent a quick email to Maud to thank her for both the suggestion and the reference. And for persuading Andrew to give me a reference that probably led him to spending a good hour in Confession for all the lies he told. Not that they were really lies – I was a good worker. Or I could be.
Maud had been mildly horrified when I told her I’d put her name down as a referee.
‘I was only joking when I said you should apply for the job,’ she’d said, her voice solemn.
‘Maybe you were, but you had a point. There’s a job there and I need a job. Why wouldn’t I throw my hat in the ring?’
She had paused, a soft humming coming over the phone line. ‘Do you not think it a bit odd?’ she asked. ‘I mean, you saw that woman die. And now you’re applying for a job in her old workplace? Her job?’
‘Hmm,’ I shrugged. ‘Maybe if I had known her. But I didn’t. I mean, yes I saw what happened and it was horrible but it shouldn’t hold me back. This could be a real chance for me and I need one now that Andrew has turfed me out. It’s not like this place is overflowing with jobs either, is it? Beggars can’t be choosers.’
So I persuaded Maud to not only give me a reference but also to speak to Andrew and ask him to back her up. I knew it was cheeky, but I also knew Maud had pull. I had long suspected Andrew had a crush on her and would do anything she asked.
I smiled as I tapped out the email to her on my laptop. ‘This is going to be a new beginning,’ I told her. ‘I know I haven’t always got it right in the past but I can get it right now. You have to meet these people, Maud. You would really like them. They’re so genuine. I think I will really fit in there.’
I was still smiling when I hit send, and when I got up and started to declutter and clean the flat. This would be a new start and I would put myself in the best place possible to make the most of it. I threw open the curtains for the first time in weeks and whizzed round, vacuuming everywhere, even under the sofa and along the skirting boards. I stripped my bed, put the sheets in a boil wash and tried not to think about the last time I had changed them. I dusted. I bleached. I swept the pile of magazines and junk mail from the coffee table and put them in a pile by the door for recycling.
I cleaned out my cupboards and my fridge. I threw out a lot of food that was past its sell by date, and anything with mould went straight in the bin. Then I grabbed my shopping bags and took myself to the M&S Food Hall where I put a decent shop of fruit and veg and low-fat meals on my credit card. And bottled water. I bought a lot of bottled water. It seemed like the thing to do.
The old me was just that: old, in the past, and gone. This would be the new me – a better version than any previous model. Lessons learned, rock bottom hit, and I had pushed myself away from it again, swimming upwards towards fresh air. The last few weeks – the Ben Blip as I would call it – would be just that. A blip. I showered when I got home, then made myself a dinner of low-fat bolognaise served with butternut squash noodles and poured myself a long glass of mineral water. Then I sat on my freshly plumped and vacuumed sofa, pulled my laptop onto my knee and logged into my Facebook account.
I stared at my long-neglected wall – the account I’d only kept open so I could keep an eye on everyone else. That evening though, I updated my status, picking a quote about life being a big adventure and being grateful for the journey. I clicked into my notifications and finally rejected Ben’s friend request once and for all.
Then I clicked onto Rose’s profile. There was another message from Cian – and I couldn’t resist reading.
Rose,
It’s been just over a month since you left me. Since you left us. I know they say time heals, and that no time at all has really passed, but at the moment each day just gets harder.
Jack looks for you. His eyes search you out when he wakes. He calls out ‘Mama’ – and I know when it’s me that peeks over the cot at him he is disappointed each and every day. Every day that disappointment kills another little piece of me. He can’t understand where you’ve gone. How can I expect him to understand when I can’t either?
I don’t want this to be true. I have begged and pleaded with God to bring you back – I know, it’s stupid of me. You know I never even believed in God anyway. But if I thought there was a chance … Rose, I’d do anything. I’d promise him anything. Everything I have. All the success. All the awards. Everything. I’d give myself to have you here.
Then again, what kind of God would take you away from me? Take you away from Jack? What kind of a God would leave a child without a mother? No kind of God I would want to know or believe in. That’s not a God of kindness – there is no kindness, no ‘bigger picture’, no ‘plan’ in you leaving us.
My arms feel so empty – but so heavy, all at the same time. They ache for you. They don’t understand why you aren’t there. They are without purpose. I am without purpose.
If I had known our time together would be so short, I would have tried harder. I would have been better. I would have protected you more. I would never have let you out of my sight. Not even for five minutes. I’d have fought off anyone who tried to take you away. Even a god. I’d have fought, and I’d have kept you safe.
I need to believe you are out there, my one and only. I need to believe my arms will hold you again.
Always and forever,
Cian
I wiped away a tear, looked at his profile picture. Still the smiling image of his late wife. I contemplated, very briefly, sending him a message. Telling him she was still out there. I believe that. That people don’t really leave. Their echoes remain. Someone as bright and vivacious as Rose – that energy doesn’t
