Secrets (8 page)

Chapter Nineteen

In the days that followed the-wedding-that-never-was, Janey withdrew into herself. She thanked God it was half-term and she didn’t have to leave the sanctuary of her bed to go to Little Cobbleton Primary School. The thought of facing her colleagues and a sea of parents’ enquiring faces sent waves of humiliation washing over her. At night she lay awake staring at the bedroom ceiling, and then she couldn’t get out of bed in the morning. She spent her days in pyjamas and dressing gown, shivering with cold. She didn’t know if this was due to the February weather taking a turn for the worse or whether a piece of her soul had turned to ice.

Four days later the landlord gave notice that Rose Cottage would be going on the market. He gave Janey first refusal. Janey couldn’t bear the idea of buying the place. In every room was the ghost of Jake – the Jake she had known and loved, not the duplicitous Jake that she was still struggling to get her head around. She recognised she was going through a grieving process. She couldn’t even draw consolation from reminiscing over happy times together, because the man had never been hers. Everything was tainted. Even her memories. The whole thing had been a sham.

Susie popped in every morning. Janey didn’t know whether to be grateful or irritated. Susie was sympathetic and made all the right noises, but was indignant on Janey’s behalf. She called Jake every name under the sun, but Janey knew she was revelling in this unfortunate turn of events. Janey also suspected Susie was giving the whole village daily updates on
Poor Janey
. She consoled herself with the fact that chit-chat about a thirty-three-year-old woman slouching around in pyjamas was boring gossip compared to last Saturday’s bombshell of nearly marrying a bigamist. Now
that
piece of gossip had surely been the icing on the wedding cake.

Joe and Sanjay came round to say good-bye. ‘I’m so sorry Jake turned out to be a jerk,’ said Joe embracing his sister. ‘Jake the Jerk. That’s how we will all remember him from now on.’

Janey tried and failed to smile. ‘I’d rather not remember him at all. I wish there was a way of erasing the last four years from my mind.’

‘Now listen, sweets. Don’t dwell on it. Onward and upward. That’s what we say. Isn’t it, Sanjay?’

‘It is. Chin up, Janey. I hope you don’t feel like we’re abandoning you, but the shop beckons. It’s our livelihood. If you want to escape for a few days, our door is open.’

‘That’s very kind. Thank you. I’m so sorry Little Cobbleton is gossiping about the pair of you as well.’

‘Oh, we’ll survive,’ Joe shrugged. ‘I told Mrs Jones that Sanjay was my long-lost brother, and Mum had been a naughty girl with a turbaned pharmacist in her wildly promiscuous youth.’

‘You didn’t,’ Janey gasped.

Joe winked. ‘See how long it takes before
that
little rumour surpasses your wedding woes.’

Violet and Derek came by every evening bringing casseroles and fruit crumbles.

‘You need to eat, darling,’ said Violet as she dolloped a vast portion onto one of Janey’s plates. ‘Have you thought any more about Rose Cottage and whether to buy it?’

‘Yes,’ Janey nodded. She dissected the mound of food and put the tiniest piece in her mouth. ‘I’d like to find somewhere else to live. Can I move into my old bedroom at Orchard House until I sort myself out?’

‘Of course,’ Violet beamed. ‘Daddy and I will be overjoyed to have you back home with us.’

Janey grimaced. Thirty-three years old and back with her parents. The spectre of spinster Aunty Peggy danced through her mind. Janey felt too miserable to dwell upon it. With a jolt she realised there was suddenly much to do before school commenced next week, and that lolling around in pyjamas might have been a mistake.

‘I need to pack this place up,’ she announced.

‘We can help you,’ said Derek patting his daughter’s hand.

‘Oh my goodness,’ said Janey massaging her temples. ‘What on earth am I going to do with all my furniture?’

‘I’ll clear out the garage, don’t worry,’ Derek assured. ‘We’ll wrap everything in plastic and store it until you decide on a new home. It can stay there months, or years. Couldn’t matter less.’

Janey knew her parents were being kind, but the thought of living at Orchard House for ‘years’ made her want to scream out loud.

The following day Janey started packing clothes. Looking in Jake’s wardrobe, she realised just how few garments he’d had. She counted six pairs of underpants – not even enough for a full week. Why hadn’t she noticed? She moved through the rail and counted the hangers. Three work shirts. Two t-shirts. One pair of formal trousers. One sweater. An ancient duffle coat that looked like it belonged in a dog’s basket. In the bottom of the wardrobe a pair of shoes languished. Work shoes. Janey could actually piece together what Jake had worn as he’d set off from Rose Cottage, never to return. A white tee under a casual shirt, dark jeans, and leather jacket. On his feet, Timberlands. Janey regarded her own wardrobes – in the plural – containing all manner of garments and umpteen boxes of footwear. Jeans, dresses, shorts, skirts, leggings, long tops, floaty tops, cropped tops...the comparison between their belongings was so hit-you-over-the-head obvious Janey wanted to slap herself.
You fool, Janey Richardson. You stupid, dumb, blind fool
. Pulling Jake’s garments from their hangers, she tossed them into a black sack. Just as she was pulling the sack’s drawstrings together, she noticed a wallet-sized photograph flutter to the floor. It must have fallen out of a trouser pocket. Stooping down, she picked it up. Gazing up at her was a miniature shot of Jake and Marie with their two little girls laughing into the camera.

Chapter Twenty

In the remaining days of half term, Janey found herself going from apathy to manic frenzy. Susie’s boyfriend, Sean, stopped by in his transit van. Susie had volunteered him and his muscles to help her and Janey clear out Rose Cottage. The three of them folded and packed, and wrapped and stacked, depositing everything in the garage at Orchard House.

Back in her old bedroom, Janey felt a sense of security mingle with her despair. At night she’d lay in bed with the curtains open, the room lit by moonlight. She’d gaze at the black sky with its glowing stars scattered like spilt glitter. It felt so peaceful. She likened it to returning to the womb. Her nights were safe. It was the days that felt like a minefield.

Returning to work, Janey addressed the school in the seconds before everybody filed out from assembly.

‘Before you go back to your classrooms, children, it is with regret that I have to inform you Mr Miller had to suddenly leave the school. Anybody who has piano or guitar lessons mustn’t worry. Another teacher will join us shortly.’

A sea of wide eyes met Janey’s gaze. They knew. Even the kiddies of Little Cobbleton were up to date on the real reason for Mr Miller’s departure.

Janey kept herself busy in her office on that first day back at work. She scheduled a staff meeting for half past four, when the last of the after-hours children had gone.

‘I won’t beat about the bush,’ said Janey frankly. ‘Unless you’ve been on the moon for the last week, you will know my wedding to Jake Miller didn’t take place. There are all sorts of fabulous stories circulating. To put the rumours to rest, I simply had a change of heart.’ She was aware of her staff giving discreet looks to each other that said otherwise. Susie’s expression was an open book.
They’re not buying it
. Janey cleared her throat. ‘I’m not looking to discuss the matter further. I trust all of you will respect that. Meanwhile, Mr Miller has returned to Manchester. I will shortly be interviewing candidates for his replacement.’

In the weeks and months that followed, Janey worked on auto-pilot. The only sign something disastrous had occurred in her private life was her weight loss. She’d visibly shrunk. Not being heavy in the first place, it showed. By day she immersed herself in the duties of head teacher. At night she enjoyed her parents’ company. She even went on a blind date with one of Sean’s mates, which wasn’t such a disaster.

‘Sean says Simon really likes you,’ Susie whispered, as they all played ten pin bowling one Saturday night. ‘What do you think of him?’

‘He seems okay.’ Janey shrugged noncommittally as she watched Simon send a row of skittles crashing. It was all very innocent and somewhat juvenile with Simon whispering to Sean and then Sean whispering to Susie who in turn whispered to Janey that Simon thought she was “pretty hot”. No doubt Susie would shortly whisper back to Sean exactly what Janey’s thoughts were on Simon. Janey considered what her feedback should be. ‘Nice bum,’ she said mischievously.

‘He’s good looking too,’ Susie approved.

‘If you like carrots,’ Janey murmured.

‘He’s not carrots,’ Susie protested. ‘He’s more…Prince Harry.’

‘Hmm, I think given the choice, Prince Harry is the better option. He’s only a few years behind me in age, and of course Harry is definitely single.’

‘So’s Simon.’

‘But he has emotional baggage, Suze. Whereas Prince Harry hasn’t fathered any sprogs, has he? At least not according to the newspapers.’

‘Well Simon can’t help being divorced. His missus met someone else. He’s blameless.’

‘Mm,’ Janey agreed. ‘Another poor sod cast aside thanks to some little turd of a person.’

‘Are you in one of your funny post-Jake moods?’

‘Who’s Jake?’ Janey asked, wide-eyed. ‘I’m simply hypothesising the differences between Simon and Prince Harry. Currently Harry is ahead of the game. Although,’ Janey put her head on one side as she considered, ‘I wouldn’t fancy Camilla as a mother-in-law.’

‘Look sharp,’ Susie nudged Janey. ‘It’s our go. We desperately need a strike, okay?’

As Susie brushed past Sean, she whispered briefly in his ear. Janey didn’t have to be psychic to know Susie had passed on the
nice bum
compliment. Within five minutes Sean had clearly repeated the compliment to Simon, because Simon was now beaming widely at Janey and taking every opportunity to present his denim-clad
derrière
to her.

Later that evening Janey accepted Simon’s offer of coffee at his place. She also consented to him stripping off his jeans so she could fully appreciate the
nice bum
. And indeed it was a nice bum. But it wasn’t as nice as Jake’s.

Chapter Twenty-One

A little after midnight, Janey politely thanked Simon for the nice coffee and nice evening. She nearly thanked him for the nice evening in bed too, but managed to stop herself in the nick of time. She felt slightly mercenary using Simon simply for sex. She’d never, ever done such a thing before. Her date with Simon hadn’t been planned that way. When he’d leant in to kiss her and suddenly sprouted octopus hands, in that moment she’d decided to exorcise Jake. There wasn’t one part of her body Jake hadn’t caressed, kissed, stroked or pressed. Simon just happened to be a cathartic solution in the right place at the right time. She had no expectations of the guy and didn’t presume he’d even want to see her again.

Time passed. A warm June gave way to July, but Janey’s heart was still struggling with its thaw. She’d been wrong about Simon too. The guy had pursued her relentlessly. Janey had gone on a few more dates, but knew it was time to opt out when Simon wanted her to meet his three children. All she could hear was Jake’s voice talking excitedly about the children they would one day have.

On the last day of term Janey wished everybody a wonderful summer holiday. Once home at Orchard House, and safely back in her childhood bedroom, she broke down. The tears flowed endlessly. Sometimes she cried so much she wondered where all the water came from. Her heart was doing that funny thing again. Palpitations, her mother had called it. When would she ever get over Jake? Patting her eyes dry, she crossly told herself to grow a spine. Outside the day was glorious. On a whim, Janey decided to go for a walk. She might feel better with the sun on her face.

Ten minutes later she spotted Mrs Fosdyke gossiping with Mrs Gager from two doors down. The elderly women were openly nattering about Janey. As Janey headed towards the corner shop, head held high, their conversation was oh-so-audible.

‘Ooh, look over there,’ Mrs Fosdyke jerked her head. ‘It’s Janey Richardson, poor little duck.’

‘So it is.’ Janey could feel Mrs Gager’s eyes boring into her back. ‘On the one hand I feel tremendously sorry for her. But on the other, well, she’s obviously a gullible idiot. I mean, how could she
not
have known?’

‘Mm,’ Mrs Fosdyke agreed. ‘I couldn’t believe my ears when Mrs Jones told me. You’d have thought an educated woman like Janey would have had more intelligence. She’s meant to be a teacher after all.’

‘A
headmistress
.’

‘I bet she feels mortified.’

‘Not to mention ridiculous.’

‘Well quite. The whole thing is beyond humiliating.’

Janey couldn’t believe her ears. Didn’t they have anything better to talk about? After all this time? And that was when Janey knew she had to get away from Little Cobbleton.

***

Janey was awoken by someone tapping her arm. She blinked. For a moment she wondered why she was on an aircraft – and one that was bucking about alarmingly. She must be dreaming. She shut her eyes again.

‘Sorry to disturb you,’ the man’s voice persisted, ‘but the captain has made an announcement. Passengers need to fasten their seatbelts.’

Janey’s eyes pinged open. Good heavens. She really was on a leaping, plunging plane. Memories of escaping to Canada came flooding back. Several passengers were gasping and one even screamed. Well, wasn’t this marvellous? She’d wanted to put us much distance between her, Jake and the gossips of Little Cobbleton, but maybe Destiny was going to take the journey one stage further. Next stop Heaven – after plunging into the ocean below.

‘Oh my goodness,’ Janey mumbled. Straightening up, she snapped the seat belt around her waist.

‘Nervous flyer?’ the guy asked sympathetically.

‘Uh, this is my first time actually. Is this slamming about normal?’

The man made a face. ‘I believe flying over the Atlantic can be a bit naughty.’

Without warning the plane dipped. It felt as though they’d dropped three-thousand feet. Janey felt a sensation of losing her stomach and shrieked. ‘Sorry,’ she gasped as the plane bounced up again. She grabbed onto the armrests. ‘This is like a white-knuckle ride.’

‘You’re certainly hanging on tight.’ The man smiled sympathetically, nodding at his hand trapped under Janey’s grip.

Appalled, Janey snatched her hand away. She’d failed to notice the massive paw relaxing on the arm-rest. In the aisle to her left, a mother and child were barfing into paper bags. Janey felt her stomach constrict. She turned her body towards the man, almost huddling into him. ‘I don’t mean to seem over-familiar,’ Janey apologised. ‘It’s just–’ she jerked her head meaningfully at the mother and child now blocked from her peripheral vision.

‘Hey, it’s really not a problem.’

The plane lurched again. From the galley came a crash as a cart tipped over. Janey gulped and tried to mentally distance herself thinking of mundane things. If UKIP’s leader ever became Prime Minister, would he really sort out the country? “I’m not voting for him,” Joe had said indignantly. “The entire party is homophobic. They said homosexuality makes people over seventy uncomfortable.” Sanjay had quipped back, “Perhaps they’re not using enough lube.” An overhead locker burst open. Hand luggage spilled out. Janey’s nerves were starting to fray.

‘W-would you m-mind terribly if I talked to you? Just while this lasts. I’m f-feeling a little scared and n-need to distract myself.’

The man grinned disarmingly. Janey noticed how his eyes crinkled attractively at the corners. The lines were quite deep. He clearly laughed a lot. ‘Now there’s a proposition I can’t refuse. It’s not every day an attractive young lady asks to talk to me.’

For a moment Janey felt unsettled. Was the guy doing a number on her? Or worse, did he think
she
was doing a number on
him
?

‘Um–’

‘Hey, relax. I’m just trying to get your mind off the turbulence.’

‘Ah!’ she nodded, feeling slightly foolish.

‘You were sleeping for a long time before it started. What have you been doing to make yourself so tired?’

‘Oh, you know,’ Janey shrugged vaguely. ‘Just…life.’ She wasn’t about to unburden to this stranger, although peculiarly a part of her wanted to. Janey suddenly realised why traumatised people loved counselling. They could go into a safe room and bare their soul to somebody who would never repeat their secrets. Janey suddenly had a mental picture of herself having therapy but spotting the faces of Mrs Jones, Mrs Fosdyke and Mrs Gager at the window as they endeavoured to garner gossip. She glanced at the tiny aircraft window, half expecting to see Little Cobbleton’s greatest chinwags peering in.

The man followed her gaze. ‘Don’t look so alarmed. The wing is still attached.’

‘Surely it’s debateable for how much longer. I feel like the plane is going to flip upside down at any moment.’

‘It’s easy to think that when the plane is taking a walloping at thirty-seven-thousand feet. However, I promise it cannot tip upside down, or go into a tailspin, or be flung from the sky.’

‘You’re incredibly calm.’ Janey took in the man’s comforting bulk. He wasn’t fat, just solid. She suspected he was much taller than the average man.

‘I’ll let you into a little secret,’ the man confided, lowering his voice.

Janey instinctively leant closer. The pleasant smell of lemony aftershave tickled her nose. ‘What?’

‘Boarding an aircraft used to freak me out. In fact, it got so bad I ended up doing one of those “Fear of Flying” courses.’

Janey looked astonished. ‘You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?’

‘Straight up.’ The man leant back in his seat, totally relaxed. ‘My girlfriend said she was fed up with my flying phobia and that it was limiting our holiday horizons. Eventually she put her hands on her hips and delivered an ultimatum. If I wanted to keep her, it was the course
or else
.’

‘She must be delighted it worked.’ Janey nodded at the dour looking female to the man’s right. She presumed the woman was the
or else
girlfriend.

‘On the course everybody learnt that planes are engineered to take a remarkable amount of punishment.’ Janey tried to concentrate on his words as they rattled through another vicious air-stream. ‘The level of turbulence required to dislodge an engine is something even a pilot will never experience in a lifetime of travelling.’

‘That’s good to know,’ Janey said as the plane banged from side to side. ‘So whereabouts are you and your girlfriend holidaying in Canada?’

The man looked startled. ‘I’m travelling on my own.’

‘Oh, but I thought–’ Janey’s eyes flicked to the dour woman. The man followed Janey’s gaze. He gave an almost imperceptible shake of the head.

‘Nope,’ he whispered in amusement. ‘She doesn’t belong to me.’

Janey looked faintly embarrassed. ‘Sorry. I just presumed…you know…after the
or else
ultimatum.’

‘I see. Well, the stipulation proved to be an empty threat. After I’d finished the course, my girlfriend went off with the pilot.’

Janey’s mouth dropped open. ‘How awful.’

The man shrugged. ‘These things happen. She did me a favour actually. She was pushing for a ring on the finger. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not against marriage. But you know by your gut instinct whether a person is the one for you.’

Janey didn’t know how to respond to that, so didn’t say anything. She’d definitely thought Jake had been the one for her.

‘Anyway,’ the man continued. ‘After a whirlwind romance, they married each other.’

‘Crikey,’ was all Janey could say.

‘That all happened many months ago. Afterwards, I always meant to travel somewhere fabulous, except
my
friends were also
her
friends. Suddenly, when it came to looking for a travelling pal, everybody was terribly busy. None of my mates wanted to upset their partners asking to join me on a lads’ holiday. So I checked out one of those travel websites for people on their Jack Jones.’

‘Good for you,’ said Janey stoutly, and then her brow furrowed. ‘Are you hooked up with Canada Companions by any chance?’

‘I am,’ said the man. ‘Don’t tell me. You are too?’ Janey looked sheepish and nodded. The man gave a bark of laughter. ‘Ironic isn’t it! Here we are, two adults no doubt with a wealth of family and friends, but no travelling companion.’ He shook his head incredulously. ‘I’m Garth Davis by the way.’ He extended one of his huge hands.

Janey shook it. ‘Janey Richardson. Pleased to meet you.’

‘So, what about you?’ Garth enquired. ‘Where’s your other half?’

For a moment Janey’s eyes glistened. ‘He’s about two thousand miles in that direction.’ She made a thumbing gesture over her left shoulder, attempting flippancy. ‘And he’s no longer my
other half
.’

‘Ah, like that, is it?’ said Garth companionably. ‘Well, Janey Richardson. As we have another thousand miles until Montreal, why don’t you share your secret? Why are you running away?’