The turmoil spun around her brain as, on autopilot, she pulled on her usual white shirt, short skirt, ballet flats and popped a cardigan over the top. Not only was her brain spinning way out of control, but she was also mind-bogglingly angry. Henry-Hicks was in so much trouble. Cally was so furious and so completely discombobulated by the whole situation that she felt paralysed, unsure of how to even begin to react. She was in such a complete fuddle that she didn’t actually know what to do which is why she’d done absolutely nothing.
Her first thought had been to phone him and absolutely blast him all over the show and never speak to him again. Then she’d actually gone into disbelief and thought that perhaps what she'd seen on the marriage certificate wasn’t actually true. Her mind had played all sorts of tricks on her and revelled in doing so. She’d even made up strange excuses and fancy things about what might have happened to Logan. She’d considered that perhaps there was another Logan Henry-Hicks in the family. That it was a fake marriage certificate that someone had made up for a joke. On and on her mind had gone, making up all sorts. Her thoughts had spiralled and spiralled, grasping at any straw that might have made the reality not feel quite as bad.
In the end, she’d not phoned and blasted him at all. In fact, she’d done nothing as if the whole revolting episode had crippled her somehow. She’d not told Eloise, not done anything except fall down into a pit and wonder how, in the name of goodness, she was ever going to get back up. Logan had also been away,she’d had a full day at work, so she’d just let it fester. As far as Logan was concerned, nothing had changed.
After popping her hair up in a clip and spraying herself from top to bottom in Cloud perfume, she went into the kitchen, put the kettle on to make a hot blackcurrant, poured way too much cordial in the bottom of a mug, plonked on the hot water, and stood with her back to the worktop, sipping the drink. Here she was, going about her day as if nothing had changed when, in reality, her entire world had been turned upside down.
Her mind galloped with questions, doubts, fears, and worst-case scenarios. What had Logan's previous marriage been like? Why had it ended? Why had he never once mentioned it to her? Did he not trust her enough to share something so personal? She grimaced as she wondered if there might be a more sinister reason for his secrecy, some dark and twisted truth that he’d wanted to keep buried. Cassia Allegra Brommington had been murdered. By him.
The more Cally thought about it, the more her anger and hurt morphed into a sickening sense of betrayal and violation. She felt like a fool, like she had been played for a naive and gullible idiot. How could she have been so blind and ignorant of the signs that must have been there all along? Looking back, had there been hints or clues that she had missed, red flags that she had chosen to ignore in the rush of falling for the Henry-Hicks thing?
Her heart and head rallied wildly between hurt and anger. How dare the little ******? How dare he let her fall so deeply? How dare he not open up about his baggage? Cally’s grip on her mug was so tight her knuckles turned white. She closed her eyes, trying to steady herself against the onslaught of emotions.
She simply didn’t know what to do. Shedidknow that something was stopping her from confronting him. She felt almost as if she was unable to speak. As if first she needed to protect herself. Time to process it before she acted. And she hadthe little card up her sleeve she’d always had: the flick of the switch in the back of her throat and the look on her face that told everyone she was fine when inside she very much was not. She would do what she had always done in the face of adversity. She’d flick the switch, put one foot in front of the other, go through the motions, and work out what would be her next move. Taking another sip of her blackcurrant cordial, she stood up a bit straighter. She’d just keep quiet for a bit, attend the races, then she’d dump Henry-Hicks from a very high height. See how he liked it. Give him a taste of his own medicine, only worse. Yes, she’d play a little game with our Henry-Hicks, that’s what she would do. He thought he could mess her around. Oh she could do so much better.
About fifteen minutes later, her phone pinged to tell her that Logan was waiting outside the deli. They were off to The Drunken Sailor for a rare speakeasy held in one of the back rooms behind the pub. Before her discovery, Cally had been looking forward to not only the chowder and the Lovely event but also spending the evening with Logan. Now, not so much. To be quite frank, she could quite comfortably have wrung his neck and stuffed him and it down the nearest drain. Pop some very strong acid on afterwards.
Popping a carton of blackcurrant in her bag, she slammed the flat door shut, went down the steep stairs, made her way down the building and out to the front of the deli. She might have been fuming at him, but as Cally approached Logan, as he usually did, he took her breath away. He smiled at seeing her and kissed her. ‘Hey, Blackcurrant. How are you? Being a good girl?’
Cally didn’t laugh. Imaginary hot red smoke poured out of her nose. So up himself, too. She inwardly growled but outwardly mustered up a smile. She’d play the game for a bit, then dump him. She flicked the ‘I’m Okay’ switch, not theregular one but the emergency one. The one she hadn’t used for a long time. ‘Hiya. How was your day?’Tra-la-la.
‘Busy but good.’
Married any brides today you forgot to tell me about?‘Nice.’
‘What have you been up to?’
Cally flicked her hand upwards in the direction of the flat. ‘Working, then I cleaned the flat and I did some admin stuff for Nina. I went to see Birdie about preparations for the Chowder Festival, too.’
‘Sounds like you’ve been busy, too.’
Not as busy as you covering up secret wives.‘Mmm.’
‘You okay?’
‘Yes, yes, fine. Marvellous.’
Inside, Cally was far, so very far, from marvellous. As they walked along the High Street, the Lovely glow draped the quaint, cobblestone streets in its pink-orange shimmer. The air was filled with the gentle hum of conversation and laughter as locals and tourists alike wandered up and down the road. Cally, though, barely noticed her surroundings, too lost in the swirling, tumultuous thoughts in her mind. She couldn't stop thinking about the wedding certificate, the tangible proof that Logan had been married before and had chosen to keep that fact hidden from her.
The worst thing was that she kept on asking herself the same questions over and over again, as if, at some point, she might well come up with a different answer. How could he have lied to her by omission, if not outright deceit? How could he have kept something so significant, so life-altering, from someone he claimed to love?
Cally's stomach churned with a sickening mixture of anger, hurt, and confusion. She wanted to confront Logan, to demand answers and explanations, to unleash the full force of her furyon him. At the same time, something was somehow telling her to hedge her bets for a bit. Keep her cards close to her chest before she decided what to do. Keep quiet and wait. After all, no one knew she’d found the certificate. She could keep schtum and no one would be any the wiser.
Instead of saying anything, she walked beside him in silence, her heart heavy and her mind racing, as he chattered on about his day and the plans he had for their evening at the pub. He seemed so normal, so untroubled, as if he hadn't a care in the world. The more casual, relaxed and happy he was, the more agitated Cally got.
‘I hear they've got a new chowder recipe on the menu tonight. Apparently, it's got a secret ingredient that takes it to a whole new level. They’re trialling it in preparation for the Chowder Festival.’
Cally didn’t give a stuff about the chowder or the festival. Even the old Lovely superstitions and customs were irritating her. She made a noncommittal noise and fixed her gaze on the pavement beneath her feet. She couldn't muster up the energy or the interest to engage in small talk, not when her entire world felt as if it was crumbling around her.
Logan glanced over at her, a flicker of concern in his eyes. ‘Hey, are you sure you're alright, Blackcurrant? You seem a bit off.’
'I'm fine,' Cally snapped, the words coming out harsher than she intended. 'Just tired, that's all.'
Logan frowned but didn't push the issue. They walked on in silence for a few moments, the only sounds were their footsteps against the cobblestones and the distant cry of seagulls wheeling overhead. Cally's mind continued to whir and spin, cycling through a dizzying array of emotions and scenarios. She felt nauseous as it zoomed around her.
Part of her wanted to believe that there was some innocent explanation or logical reason as to why Logan had kept his previous marriage a secret. Maybe it had been a brief, youthful mistake, a fleeting moment of passion that had burned out as quickly as it had ignited. Maybe he was embarrassed by it, ashamed of his own naivety and impulsiveness. Another part of her, the part that had been hurt and betrayed, wanted to murder him, to be quite frank. What if there was more to the story than met the eye? What if Logan had deliberately deceived her, had hidden the truth of his past in order to manipulate and control her?
The thought made Cally's blood run cold and sent a shiver of dread down her spine. She had trusted Logan. Let him into her life, into her bed, into the most vulnerable and intimate parts of herself. And now she felt weirdly trapped.
