‘Come and have a cuppa in the café. They won’t dare come in there. I’ve already said my piece.’ She patted my shoulder.
‘Thanks, Jean. I have a few errands to run but maybe later.’ I forced a smile and watched her walk off in the direction of the café. When I was alone again, I allowed myself to slump against the wall, forcing back the tears from my eyes.
When I was sure Daniel had gone, I geared myself up for the walk home, but as I did, my phone shrilled in my pocket. It was a local number, but not one I recognized. I answered it anyway.
‘Mrs Davis?’
‘Yes?’ I asked warily.
‘It’s Wilfred.’ Wilfred worked at the village bank but also served as mine and Daniel’s financial adviser. My heart beat a little faster. Why was he calling me? ‘It’s about your mortgage. Now it’s probably just an oversight but I wanted to make you aware that you’ve missed two payments.’ Thoughts jumbled around in my head as my cheeks flushed. We’d never missed a mortgage payment before.
‘I … I’m sorry Wilfred, I didn’t know. We’ve had a lot on recently. I can assure you it is just an oversight. We’ll get it sorted soon.’
‘No problem, Mrs Davis, that’s what I thought. You take care now. Goodbye.’ He hung up and I slumped against the wall again, my fingers keying frantically at the phone to log in to our joint account. Sure enough, no mortgage payments had gone out because no money had gone in, not since August. It was now October. Daniel had stopped paying in.
I stared at the screen in shock. How could he do this? He must have known I couldn’t afford to pay for the house on my own. I jabbed my trembling finger at the screen of my phone, attempting to ring Daniel. When it finally rang, my hand shook as I clenched the phone. For what felt like an eternity, I held my breath. I hadn’t picked up the phone to Daniel since he’d left.
After three rings it went to voicemail and I let out a sigh of relief, allowing my whole body to relax. I was able to compose myself enough to leave a message.
‘Daniel, it’s Hannah. I have some urgent things to go through with you regarding the house. Can you call me back as soon as you can, please.’ I hung up and let out a long breath.
I set off for home, keeping my head down as I walked; one sympathetic glance from a well-meaning villager would have been enough to set me back weeks. I dared not think about what a full-on encounter with Daniel and his blonde might do. I scurried across the stone bridge to the other side of the river. The frost had disappeared, leaving the once-crisp autumn leaves at the roadside soggy and limp.
When I neared home my breath caught in my throat. Daniel’s car was on the driveway parked next to mine. That was quick.
The familiar sight taunted me and pounded at my stomach. Apprehensively, I knocked on the window, startling him as he read something on his phone. He held a finger up to indicate he’d be a minute, and for a lingering second, I looked at it – the finger that belonged to a hand that used to enclose my hand. A hand I’d felt was as much my own as it was his. A hand that now held another hand. A stranger’s hand. A hand I had no right to touch any more.
Forcing myself away, I went inside, leaving the door ajar. My forehead started to throb as I held back hot, prickly tears. As I passed the mirror in the hallway, I quickly ran my fingers through my hair, tidying it as much as possible. Something I would never have felt the urge to do in the past, but I wasn’t under scrutiny before. I wasn’t to be compared to another woman as if I were a card in a game of Top Trumps, and not a particularly great one either. As I reached the kitchen, I sensed him come in behind me, and I turned. My heart stopped as I saw him.
‘Daniel.’ He looked as handsome as ever. His chestnut hair with the sprinkle of grey that I loved was cut short, the way I liked it. The shock of confusion stung – such familiarity, such homeliness in this man who was now a stranger to me. I wanted to hug him. I wanted to feel him take me in his arms and remember how I was his number one and that he was mine. I stood there, frozen.
‘What did you want to go through?’ he said coldly, piercing my thoughts. None of the emotion I was experiencing imprinted on him. How could he not feel it?
Pulling myself together, I forced out the words with as little feeling as I could manage. ‘It’s the house, Daniel; we’ve defaulted on the mortgage.’ Even though I wanted to curl up in a ball and sob or beg him to come back to me, I wouldn’t allow myself to crumble before him. Not again.
‘We?’ He raised an eyebrow in surprise. ‘Hannah, I moved out. The house is your responsibility. You wanted to keep it,’ he added, as if it were some kind of favour. It was true. I loved the house and couldn’t lose that too.
‘Daniel, I can’t afford it alone. You must have known that.’ I managed to stop a pleading tone from creeping into my voice.
He threw up his arms in exasperation. ‘I don’t know what you want from me. I gave you the house. I’m paying rent on another place now.’ My chest tightened as he spoke, and out of habit, I moved around the breakfast bar towards him. If I could just touch him, maybe I could remind him of what we had. He moved away – the gesture stabbed at my chest.
I couldn’t keep it in any longer. I had to get it off my chest, ‘Daniel, I’ve lost my customers because of you. I have no business, because you left me for another woman and I had to deal with that. I couldn’t just carry on like nothing had happened.’ My body shook as I fought back the flood of tears. It took the strength of the Hoover Dam, but somehow I managed.
The closer I got, the more he backed away. ‘You can’t keep blaming me. You need to get a job or whatever. The house is your responsibility if you want to keep it.’ Keep blaming him? I hadn’t even spoken to him. How could he accuse me of that and just disregard our past? Why didn’t he care about the house, where all our memories, love, and laughter had absorbed so deeply into the walls that I could feel it as I walked in?
‘I … I need time,’ I stuttered, defeated. ‘I can’t just build my business back up like that – my customers have all gone to Glam Shack and I can’t keep afloat waiting for if and when they return,’ I pleaded. ‘Can’t you just help me out for a month or two?’
He checked his watch. ‘No, I can’t. I’m sorry.’ There it was: the apology I’d longed for, only there was no empathy, heart, or sincerity in it. Instead, it reeked of an attempt to shut me up and end the conversation. Like a big, fat full stop. When did he become so cold? ‘Also, Hannah,’ he said, moving towards the door, ‘just a heads-up. I’ve started divorce proceedings. Judging by the pile of post on the worktop over there, you probably aren’t aware.’ I glanced over to several weeks’ worth of unopened mail and spotted a large, thick, cream envelope.
‘Right,’ was all I could manage, clamping my jaw tightly to suppress its tremor.
The door closed behind him. My body sagged against the kitchen counter, and my tears fell. It was his coldness towards me that had hurt the most, and I couldn’t shake the pain. My shoulders bounced uncontrollably as my body synced up with the tears.
By the time I composed myself, the daylight had faded, leaving me wrapped in a murky twilight. It felt comforting – the silence, the darkness, and the solitude – and so I sat for a while. The salty tear residue stung my face and I let it; it was what
