‘No! Really? Is it work? I thought he’d booked the weekend off ages ago.’
Graeme was an Accident and Emergency doctor. He’d occasionally taken a raincheck on our plans due to work pressures, but he’d never have let me down for a significant event like this. Graeme had never let me down on anything that counted. I wore the crown for that.
‘It’s not work. It’s me. We’ve split up.’
Georgia’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. ‘Why?’
‘It wasn’t working.’
‘Since when?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘Yes! I’m your big sister and I had no idea you were having problems. I need the details.’
‘Well, if you want me to be on time to Mum’s party, you can’t have them.’
She sighed. ‘I’ll get it out of you later. How did he take it?’
‘Badly. Said a few harsh things.’
‘Like what?’
‘Seriously, Georgia, do you want me to get ready or not?’
‘Okay, I’ll let you go. We can dissect it over a bottle of wine tonight.’
‘There’s not that much to tell. We’ll be done halfway down the first glass.’
She shook her head. ‘Uh-uh! Not accepting that. You were together for two years, Mel! There are things to talk about.’
‘Clock’s ticking,’ I said, tapping my bare wrist, mynothing-to-see-heremask firmly in place.
‘See you soon,’ she relented. ‘Drive carefully.’
‘Always do.’
We said our goodbyes and disconnected.
Dropping my phone on the bed, I returned to the bathroom and squeezed some cold water from my long dark hair. I reached for my hairbrush but I didn’t use it, staring instead at my reflection in the mirror with a sigh. Georgia was right. Nobody walks away from a two-year relationship without feeling something. I hadn’t. I really was sad that it had ended, but I also felt guilty because the sadness wasn’t about the relationship being over – it was about my social life being over. What did that say about me? The thing is, I’d thought Graeme understood. I’d thought we were on the same page about what sort of relationship we had. Turned out we hadn’t even been in the same book. So I wasn’t only sad. I was also annoyed and frustrated that everything had changed and fearful of the emptiness that lay ahead. Especially when that meant even more time to think and remember and regret.
* * *
Half an hour later, I pulled out of my parking space and set off on the two-hour journey cross country to Willowdale. Driving in the city centre always put me on edge. I hated the volume of traffic, the pedestrians stepping out without looking, the food delivery drivers on their electric bikes jumping red lights and swerving onto the footpaths, the noise and general chaos. The moment I left the outskirts and reached the lush green countryside, that tension ebbed away.
I’d always strongly proclaimed that I wasn’t a fan of city centres, feeling hemmed in by the tall buildings and so many people, so my family had been right to question my choice of Newcastle but, at the time, it had felt logical. It took me away from home, but not ridiculously far. It was more convenient than Willowdale for my job as a conservation architect – a role specialising in the preservation of historic buildings – because I worked on more projects in the north-east than the north-west of the country. And the biggest pull had been that living in Newcastle would be completely different to life in Willowdale. I foolishly believed the contrast would make a fresh start easier.
I usually listened to the radio when I was driving and particularly enjoyed a local radio station which only played music from the seventies, eighties and nineties, evoking happy memories of my childhood, teens and twenties – a time before my world turned upside down and I lost everything.
‘Welcome to Themed Thirty,’ Ricky the DJ announced in a sing-song voice brimming with enthusiasm. ‘You know how it works by now – I give you a theme and we play thirty minutes of songs selected by you. Today’s theme of weather has been a popular one and we’ve had some brilliant suggestions in so far so keep those requests coming. I’m sure you’ll agree there’s only one song we could possibly use to kick off today’s Themed Thirty. Alleluia!’
I smiled as ‘It’s Raining Men’ by The Weather Girls started. I loved the Themed Thirty. Ricky typically mixed regularly played tracks with some almost-forgotten gems and the choices were always upbeat so perfect for singing along to.
He followed The Weather Girls with some brilliant choices. ‘The Sun and the Rain’ by Madness – a song I’d almost forgotten – followed by Crowded House’s ‘Weather With You’ and ‘Tsunami’ by Manic Street Preachers. The three tracks transported me back in time to school, university and work respectively.
The next track – ‘Sunshine on a Rainy Day’ by Zoë – also took me back to my university days but conjured up a more vivid memory of holidaying in Tenerife with Georgia and her husband Mark in the year Flynn and I got engaged. The heavens had opened and the four of us had bundled into the nearest bar, completely missing the signs for karaoke that night – not our thing at all. By the time we realised, none of us fancied another drenching so we stayed put. After a while, fuelled by alcohol, Georgia and I decided to give it a go. ‘Sunshine on a Rainy Day’ was our prayer for the weather to improve, delivered with gusto but not necessarily the right notes. Neither of us have ever liked being centre of attention, but we let go of our inhibitions in a bar full of strangers and I’d always cherish that special memory of bouncing up and down on the stage with the woman who was my best friend as well as my sister.
My stomach lurched as my memories moved on because that hadn’t been the only special moment that evening. Even though we’d been together for a little over a year, I’d never heard Flynn sing so was convinced the karaoke host had made a mistake by calling his name. But Flynn took my hand and kissed it before holding my gaze like some gallant knight in a fairy tale. I could still remember the tenderness in his beautiful green eyes as he whispered,This is for you, Mel.
