Just stop it, will you! I can’t stay, I won’t stay, and you have to let me go!’
Stunned, Kara stepped back, and looked at the love of her life, with his wet red cheeks. It was strange. All she could say, in a whisper, was ‘Why?’
He grabbed the serviette from the table and wiped his face, before he took a deep breath. ‘I’ve got a woman pregnant, so I have no choice.’
Kara threw her hands to her mouth in horror. No, he can’t have. He wouldn’t do that. This was a nightmare … She would wake up and it would all be a bad dream.
‘Look, tell her to get an abortion, tell her … I don’t know, Justin, but please don’t leave me. I can’t live without you.’
Kara was dancing on his conscience and he couldn’t deal with it. ‘Shut up! Just shut up. I’m leaving and that’s it. Please stop, Kara. I’ve made my decision and it’s final.’
Kara ran back to him, throwing her arms around his neck. ‘Please don’t, Justin, I’m begging you!’ She could feel her heart being ripped to shreds, not in half so that she could fix it together, but in strands of lonely pieces that could never be whole again. Staring with begging eyes at the only man she’d ever loved, and for him to coldly look away, hurt like nothing on earth.
She slumped to the floor in agonising grief. In that single moment, her chest was crushed by heartache, knowing that this battle to hold on to their relationship would be fought alone. His cold eyes told her everything she needed to know – he didn’t want her anymore, he wanted someone else. She curled in a ball and rocked, too distraught even to make a crying sound. Unable to ease her pain for fear of giving her false hope, he left the room and headed upstairs to pack.
The avalanche of grief mixed with furious frustration turned her self-pity to a burning anger. She gasped as the cold realisation hit her: he didn’t even care enough to stay and work things out. Every nerve in her body was now on fire. She jumped up, screaming, as she snatched the plates and hurled them at the wall. The beautiful cream plaster mouldings were now covered in chilli, which was sliding down the Italian fresco wallpaper.
Her temper increased, and she ran up the stairs after him, shrieking, ‘How could you do this to me? How could you be so cold and heartless? You fucking two-timing bastard!’ Shocked by her own actions and even by the pitch in her voice, she threw her hands to her mouth and glared wide-eyed.
The suitcase was open, and he was carefully filling it with freshly ironed shirts and trousers. He wouldn’t even look at her; it was as if she were a ghost. In a fit of fury, she grabbed the case and tossed it on the floor. ‘How could you, how could you?’ she cried.
Without a word, he held both her arms, before she tore into anything else, and gently pushed her out of the room and closed the door behind her. She had never shown such heartbreaking emotion. Her pleading, distraught expression mixed with that vile anger in her voice had turned her into an unrecognisable stranger.
Kara knew then that no matter how much she screamed, cried, or even begged, he was still going to leave. And he did – half an hour later.
The emptiness was like hell on earth, left with just thoughts of him and another woman. The misguided notion that he was totally besotted with her, only to find out he was sleeping with someone else, was the ultimate in deceit. He had taken away her perfect world in one fell swoop. The house that was once alive with love and passion was now a cold shell filled with memories that had ripped her heart out.
Every time she looked at a photo, a piece of jewellery, the furniture, the clothes – everything that was in the house, in fact – it all reminded her of him. How was she going to cope? The gut-wrenching pain was worse than anything she’d ever experienced. What did she have now, but a big empty void and a bleak future?
Sitting in the dining room for hours in a daze, she finally heard a bird tweeting. As she pulled back the curtains, the sun almost blinded her. She hadn’t been to sleep at all. Every muscle ached, and her legs were numb from sitting. She clung on to the idea that maybe once he was away, he would realise what he was missing, and would return soon with a bag of apologies.
Too grieved to talk to anyone, she pulled the phone from the socket and struggled to the bedroom. As she opened the door and saw the small teddy on the bedside table, she retreated to a spare room and drew the curtains. Too exhausted to do anything but sleep, she lay on the bed and dragged the purple quilted throw over her legs. But as she closed her eyes to blot out the world, his face was there, with that sorrowful look.
Eventually, she drifted off and was tossing and turning, only to wake up with nightmares before drifting off again. At four o’clock in the afternoon, she sat bolt upright remembering the trip to Denmark. She would have to get her bags packed, but unexpectedly, her stomach was burning, ready to expel its contents. Crouched on the cold tiled floor and hanging on to the toilet, the vomit rose once more, and she almost choked. Her throat was alight with acid and her lips burned. All she brought up was bile because her stomach was empty.
After she washed her face and forced herself to clean her teeth, she wandered still in a daze back to the bedroom to get dressed. Her skin felt sensitive, and so she slipped into one of her soft lined tracksuits that hung sloppily off her shoulder. Justin liked her in her Sloppy Joes, as he called them; he said she could wear a black sack and still look gorgeous, but maybe it had all been a lie. She looked once more in the bathroom mirror and noticed the dark circles under her eyes, the red eyelids, and sallow skin. No wonder he ran to the arms of someone else. She looked a mess, and yet he didn’t; his boyish broad smile and the twinkle in his round eyes were just the same – ageless.
The dining table had been cleaned and the crap that was up the wall was all washed down. Her heart skipped a beat. He was back. Perhaps he’d made a mistake. Quickly, she ran to the kitchen, expecting to find him, but only to have her heart ripped away from her again. A slim woman, with dark hair scraped back into a ponytail, wearing no make-up and sporting a piercing through her nose, stood with her rubber gloves on ready to start on the cleaning.
It was Angie, her cleaner of three years, who, in all honesty, Kara knew nothing about, except she worked hard, was reliable and trustworthy, and lived on the estate. Justin had taken her on when he read an ad in the local newsagent’s window. Angie was eager to earn money on the side, just to have decent food in the cupboard. Her rent had gone up and she could barely cover the cost of living. If it wasn’t for her brother Rocky, bunging her a few quid each week, she would have starved to death, but the cash-in-hand cleaning job paid the heating bill and allowed her to get her nails done or to have a night out once a month with the girls.
‘Hey, are you okay, Kara? I saw you asleep in one of the spare rooms. I tried to be quiet … Had a row, did ya?’ she asked, totally lacking any sensitivity.
Kara wasn’t expecting to see Angie and was not in the mood to talk. She needed time and space to figure it all out for herself. ‘No, I’m not well. Sorry, Angie, would you excuse me, please?’
Angie nodded. ‘Yeah, sure.’ She waited for Kara to leave, before she mumbled under her breath, ‘Snotty bitch.’
Angie didn’t really care one way or the other. As far as she was concerned, Kara and Justin were a professional working couple too busy to clean up their own shit, so they paid her to do it. They also paid well, so that was that. As she saw it, Kara was just a geek with her nose constantly in a book, too aloof to sit and have a cup of tea and a chat with her.
She cleaned two houses in the close and the owners were all the same – too preoccupied with their own lives to stop and share a piece of cake or even notice
