Suddenly Single Page 4

  The tapping on the glass was light and persistent, like an inquisitive woodpecker. Chloe cursed. Maybe she’d been spotted before she’d hidden. It would look fairly obvious now if she revealed herself. She’d have to hope the stranger would leave. However, she hadn’t banked on Ronnie who suddenly rushed out of the living room to greet the intruder. He barked happily.

  ‘Ronnie, shush,’ whispered Chloe. It was a mistake to speak. Delighted at hearing his mistress’s voice, he hunted around until he found her on her knees and decided she wanted to play. He crouched on his front legs, nose almost touching her face then pulled away with a joyful bark. It was his version of the game hide-and-seek.

  ‘Go away,’ she hissed.

  Ronnie pulled playfully at one of her trainer laces and backed away again.

  ‘Get off.’ She said. The tapping started again and a muffled shout. ‘Chloe!’

  ‘Bad dog,’ she grumbled, getting to her feet and feigning surprise.

  Dressed in red boots, a white coat and resembling a human version of Sonic the Hedgehog with spiked cobalt blue hair, stood a woman in her early forties. She waved enthusiastically as Chloe emerged. Ronnie trotted beside his mistress and nosed at the door as she unlocked it.

  ‘You must be the wonderful Chloe Piper,’ gushed the woman. ‘I’m sorry I missed you yesterday, but your friend seemed very nice. I hope you enjoyed the mince pies. I’m not the best cook but it’s the thought that counts, isn’t it? And who is this?’ She bent down and fussed over Ronnie, ruffling the fur on his neck with both hands. His tail wagged faster and faster.

  ‘You must be Eleanor. Come in.’ The words almost stuck in her throat. She swallowed and drew a breath. She could do this.

  Eleanor didn’t need to be asked a second time. Giving Ronnie one final rub, she stood up and pulled Chloe into a honeysuckle and lime scented embrace leaving her glued to the spot as she withdrew.

  ‘I’m so pleased we’re going to be neighbours. I hear you’ve moved from a village not too far away. We’re from just outside this area – Derby – but couldn’t stand city life any longer and were dying to move. Isn’t it perfect here?’ She turned sparkling green eyes onto Chloe and smiled. The corners of her eyes creased slightly and her perfectly groomed heavy eyebrows lifted slightly. ‘Sorry, I go on, don’t I? I’m just so excited to finally meet you.’

  As much as Chloe didn’t want to chat, she couldn’t be rude, especially after such an effusive welcome. Eleanor seemed open and friendly and Ronnie had completely fallen for her. He sat on his haunches, eyes never leaving the woman’s face. If Ronnie liked her, she had to be okay. Her voice sounded distant to her ears as she managed to get out perfunctory sentences. ‘Nice to meet you. Thank you for the mince pies. They really were delicious. I’ve got some left. Would you like one and a coffee?’

  ‘That’s so sweet of you but I have to get off. I told Fairfax I’d only be a few minutes. We have to check out a new venue!’

  ‘Venue?’

  ‘We run an events company for singletons. We only started it recently and it’s taken off like you wouldn’t believe. We’re constantly on the lookout for more fun activities to offer our clients. Anyway, I wanted to welcome you to Sunny Meadow and say if you need anything at all, just come and bang on our door. We work from home so we’re often around when we’re not at an event.’ She gave Chloe a wide smile.

  Chloe shifted from one foot to the other. She had no idea what to say next. She was saved from further conversation as Eleanor dropped down again to stroke Ronnie’s head and scratch behind his ear. Ronnie seemed to melt under her hand and threw her a look when she withdrew that made her guffaw. As she turned to leave, she spoke with sincerity.

  ‘I hope you find it.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Whatever you were looking for on the floor. Was it an earring? I’m always losing mine. The wretched butterfly clips come off.’

  Chloe flushed hotly and mumbled something unintelligible. Had she been found out? She hoped not. Eleanor seemed pleasant enough and she didn’t want to make a bad first impression.

  As she bounded off, Eleanor halted briefly and faced her. ‘You must come around for drinks. How about tonight at six? I won’t take no for an answer,’ she added, wagging a finger.

  Chloe nodded with an enthusiasm she didn’t feel, and thanked Eleanor who set off once more. She glanced at Ronnie whose nose was forced against the window watching the disappearing tricolour. ‘Traitor,’ she mumbled.

  Chapter Three

  Monday, 18th December

  Even with a shining new silver Kia parked outside her home, Chloe had still spent the early part of the afternoon feeling cut off. Their home in Appletree had been her refuge and sanctuary for almost five years and to uproot, as brave and necessary a move as it had been, had left her feeling unfixed. The new place was lovely and she would be happy here but she needed time to adjust, make new memories, learn to live with its quirks. The old place was so familiar she could still imagine the creaks that accompanied its night-time settling, or the occasional rumble as the heating system burst into life, or the chirping of sparrows that had regularly nested under the roof’s eaves.

  A longing to return to that sweet familiarity washed over her like a gigantic wave, so powerful she had to steady herself against the kitchen top. Be strong, she told herself. Going back wasn’t an option. The house was up for sale and William was living there, no doubt with Lilly. The woman had probably moved in the second Chloe had departed leaving her door keys along with the small elephant keyring William had bought for her on the console table in the hall next to the photograph of her and William on honeymoon.

  She ought to go out and buy food but she couldn’t face that particular challenge. She’d wait until her phone line had been installed and connected and then order it online as she always did. She had enough stand-by provisions until then.

  Chloe picked up the large cardboard box marked ‘PERSONAL’. It contained all her precious memories: those of her childhood, parents and life in the Outer Hebrides before her world was shattered into a million fragments and she was left to flounder alone. She extracted a framed picture of Nanny Olive, white hair pulled back in a tight bun and face lined but still the olive-green eyes that had given her name, wide and clear, and hinting at the handsome woman she had once been. Chloe traced a finger over the woman’s face and whispered, ‘Love you, Nanny.’ Nanny Olive, her father’s mother, had taken her in after her parents had been killed and brought her up as best she could. It hadn’t been easy, given the age-gap and her grandmother’s own struggle with health-issues, but they’d managed, cemented by their shared grief.

  Moving from the tight community in Scotland to a huge town in the Midlands had been a humongous shock. Life there was completely different from the gentle pace she’d been used to, and her new school was a revelation. A hundred times bigger than her old school in Scotland, she’d immediately wanted to leave. Nanny Olive had understood. Chloe peered inside the box again searching for her most valuable possession and lifted the card bearing a picture of a serene lioness under a tree. She knew its contents by heart. She could close her eyes and picture the spidery writing without looking at it, but she opened it nevertheless and read, hearing Nanny Olive’s voice as she did so…

  Chloe, poppet, you’re going to have to stand on your own two feet now. As hard as that is to deal with, you must face up to it. Life throws us challenges and we have to surmount them whether we want to or not, whether we like it or not. I’ll always be here for you but you’re going to need to return to school and take your examinations. You have to look to your future. It doesn’t feel like it right now, but it will get better for you. One day, you’ll have a home and family of your own and this won’t hurt as much as it does today. You’ll be fine but you need to make some brave steps to reach that goal. I’ll hold your hand. I’ll hold it while you pick your way through all of this mess and begin to find some peace and even happiness. I may have lost my son, but I
still have you, my beautiful granddaughter, and I know you can get through this. You’re stronger than you think.

  Chloe closed it again and thought of her grandmother who’d written those words to help her through that terrible time immediately after the accident that had stolen her parents and sister from her. She’d clasped both of Chloe’s hands between her own gnarled ones twisted by arthritis. Her eyes had burned with passion and love. Nanny Olive was a fighter and Chloe drew from her strength.

  * * *

  With hindsight, she’d depended too heavily on Nanny Olive. It had been a terrifying ordeal for the painfully shy Chloe, starting at a new school where everyone seemed unfriendly. She hungered after the solitude of the islands and the home she’d shared with her scientist parents and older sister, Georgia. She was desperate for the misty mornings, staring out over calm waters, listening to the soft bleating of the sheep before joining the few other children from the island at the tiny village school. Most of all, she yearned to be left alone. People frightened her, especially crowds. The schoolchildren who jeered at her soft Scottish accent sent her scurrying back home with tears in her eyes and her heart as heavy as stone, back to her grandmother who stroked her hair and held her tight and repeated it would be alright.

  Here she was again, starting out, just like the young Chloe all those years ago. This time she had no grandmother to help her when she was frightened to face people but she had Faith and her novel, and of course, she had Ronnie. Ronnie had been Nanny’s dog and after she passed away he had come to live with Chloe, rarely leaving her side. He was more than just a pet.

  The writing bothered her. Ever since she’d found out about William’s infidelity, she seemed to have lost her writing mojo. Her debut novel had been an incredible success but unless she got her finger out and wrote another like it, she’d soon be a forgotten author, and she’d have to repay the large advance she’d received from the publisher. If she didn’t rise to the challenge, she’d have no other form of income. She was due money from the sale of their house into which she’d sunk her small inheritance, but apart from that, she had nothing to live on.

  She heaved a sigh and pulled out some more photographs: Chloe as a child with her parents and golden-haired Georgia, outside the stone cottage with a vast sea as a backdrop. She’d long ago stopped wishing she could turn back the clocks. What was done was done. She’d lived through the turmoil and fallout of losing them. She smiled at the photograph. Nanny’s words echoed in her mind. You’re stronger than you think. She placed the picture on a shelf in the living room. She would get through this.

  Picking up a spiralled back notebook, entitled Ideas and a purple propelling pencil, she flopped onto the settee, hoping for some inspiration. The ideas and indeed all the sexy passages had just flowed for her debut, as if they’d been stored for an eternity deep within her and needed to be freed. Once they’d started, they wouldn’t stop like a tap that couldn’t be turned, and some days she’d spent hours in front of her laptop, lost in the world of make believe until William came home. Sitting about most of the day had taken its toll on her waistline. With packets of crisps and biscuits to fuel her as she typed, she’d packed on a bit of weight. She’d always been a little on the plump side but now, having eaten more than usual due to stress and heartache, she was comfortable only in elastic-waist jeggings. Although William had professed to loving her regardless of the few extra pounds she’d put on, she now wondered whether her weight gain had helped to send him tumbling into the arms of the svelte goddess that was Lilly.

  She tugged at the baggy jumper, pursed her lips and let out a noise that sounded like a tyre deflating. Ronnie, in front of the log burner, lifted his head.

  ‘Not yet. Later,’ she said. She relaxed against the padded cushion and shut her eyes. What could she write about? Nothing sprang to mind. She jotted down names and a few woolly ideas but knew it was pointless. The fountain of creativity had dried up.

  Outside, the light was beginning to fade and she needed to walk the dog before it was too dark. She wasn’t going to have a repeat performance of the night before.

  ‘You ready then?’ she asked. Ronnie stretched languidly, then rose and scurried to the door tail wagging.

  ‘Not far,’ she said. ‘We’ll head to the reservoir.’

  She’d searched for a suitable walk on her phone and discovered the reservoir was only ten minutes away by foot. If she crossed her land onto the right of way, and then turned left and traversed the field behind it, she’d come out opposite an entrance to the huge reservoir, home to hundreds of birds and covering some 800 acres. With four different routes to choose from along neat pathways, it was ideal for them both.

  Ronnie waited obediently as she clipped on his lead, and together they left the warmth of the house and headed outside where the cold air hit the back of her throat and made her cough. She took a second breath and surveyed her land. It was going to be a mammoth task to get it in check. She ought to start contacting landscape gardeners as soon as she had Internet. It was something else to add to her steadily growing list of jobs to tackle and challenges to face. She’d have to combat her nervousness and handle workmen. There’d be no William to do it for her…

  ‘For crying out loud, Chloe. Just for once, can’t you deal with the workmen? I have a full-time job. I can’t drop everything to hang around the house with you.’

  ‘William, I’m sorry but I can’t face it. The last time you called them in, they made me feel so dim. They looked at me as if I was simple and I’m positive they were talking about me behind my back, sniggering and saying stuff.’

  ‘They weren’t. It’s in your head. It’s always in your head. They’re too busy to pay any attention to you. You only have to say hello and offer them a cup of tea. It’s not like you have to stand up and give a presentation or anything, is it?’ His voice rises in anger and makes her feel even more helpless. She knows she’s being unreasonable yet she can’t help it. The tears begin to fall.

  ‘I hate being like this,’ she wails.

  ‘Okay, babe. Okay. I know. Don’t get upset. I’ll take a couple of hours off.’

  She’d managed certain situations after that one. With encouragement from other sufferers in online groups and thanks to her psychiatrist, she’d learned to deal with day-to-day situations like workmen and delivery drivers coming to her door. One-on-one became easier and if she avoided crowds, she could cope.

  As Chloe and Ronnie plodded across the field, she hoped the walk would motivate her muse. She really needed to come up with something before the new year began.

  They cleared the stile into the field and made the descent to the road that traversed their side and the reservoir. Ahead of them the lake shimmered enticingly, reflecting the sky with its scudding white clouds. Ronnie began to pant as he always did when excited, pausing every now and then, nose quivering at the scent of rabbits or hares, or any one of a number of wild animals that lived in these parts of the country. The road was quiet although she could hear the sound of an engine rumbling in her direction.

  She tugged at Ronnie’s lead to make him walk closer to her. There was no way she wanted him wandering ahead of her onto the road and oncoming traffic. The vehicle was approaching and she could make out its green roof. No, it wasn’t green. There was a Christmas tree strapped to the roof, hanging over both ends of the car. The car, a Land Rover, drove past, the occupants oblivious to both her and Ronnie. Alex was at the wheel. His passenger, an attractive brunette, was laughing and behind them both, elbows on the headrest and face between the two seats, sat a small boy, face animated. Alex and his family were preparing for Christmas.

  ‘We ought to get ready too.’ Ronnie’s ears twitched.

  It would be her first Christmas alone. Nanny Olive had passed away a few years ago and she had no one else to share the festive season with. Following her grandmother’s death, Chloe’s condition had worsened again. The fear returned and washed over her, drowning the person she’d tried to become.
It was partly due to the realisation that Nanny Olive could no longer be there for her and partly because William squashed the rest out of her. You’re stronger than you think. She shook herself from her reverie. Tomorrow she’d buy a tree and get Ronnie some doggie treats and wrap them for Christmas Day. She’d be fine.

  * * *

  The gravel crunched satisfyingly under her boots, like small pebbles on a beach. She made her way across the courtyard to the far side of the development where Eleanor lived, guided only by the light of her mobile. A wind had got up since her walk with Ronnie and she was glad of the jumper and coat she’d put on. Coloured fairy lights swung from the small tree in the front garden, and Eleanor had left an outside light on, its warm orange glow lighting up the front door and pathway. Somebody had hung a sign, No Riff Raff, on the porch door. She rang the bell. As much as she hadn’t wanted to come over for drinks, it was necessary. She was going to be living near these people and ought to be sociable. A drink wouldn’t hurt. The walk by the reservoir had taken more time than she’d anticipated and then she’d had a call from an exhausted Faith who’d chatted for almost an hour, leaving her little time to get ready. She’d slicked on some lipstick, a pair of clean jeans and her favourite red jumper. Red always made her feel safe, strong even. She breathed in, long deep breaths and focused on a special place in her mind to calm her heartbeat – her parental home.

  Muffled chimes rang out in the house. The wind gusted around her ankles and chilled her legs; however, it was anxiety not cold that made her shiver. A lifetime ago she’d been brought up in rough winters on the island of Skye. The cold didn’t usually have much of an effect on her. All of a sudden, a light came on in the hall and a face, a round cheerful face with sandy hair and matching eyebrows and brown button eyes, appeared.