Chocolate Shoes and Wedding Blues. Trisha Ashley

guilty schoolboy, but this was slightly more serious than who scrumped all the apples out of the orchard, so saying it was me he’d loved all the time, and he’d let Rae bleed him dry so she didn’t tell me what he’d done, just wasn’t good enough.

      ‘I was doing it to protect you – us!’

      ‘If you hadn’t slept with her in the first place, you wouldn’t have had to,’ I pointed out. ‘And because she had Charlie, you put off marrying me and starting a family all this time … right to the point where it might even be too late for me to have a baby!’

      I didn’t see how I could ever forgive either of them for that.

      ‘I’m sure it isn’t too late, Tansy darling. Look, I know I’ve been stupid, but now that you know – if you can forgive me – there’s nothing to stop us. I don’t need to pay her through the nose any more and everything’s changed.’

      ‘It has – changed irrevocably,’ I said. ‘I thought you were the only man immune to my stepsisters – the only one who truly loved me.’ Despite myself, my voice wobbled a little.

      ‘I do,’ he insisted.

      ‘Justin, I’m not sure you even know the meaning of the word, but even if you do, then you don’t love me the way I am, or you wouldn’t keep going on about my weight, and the way I dress and the things I say, as if I’m suddenly not good enough – just like Mummy Dearest always tells you.’

      ‘Leave Mummy out of this. She’d love to see me married.’

      ‘Yes, to anyone except me!’

      At this inopportune moment the phone on the table between us rang.

      ‘Answer it, why don’t you? It’s bound to be Mummy Dearest herself!’ I said bitterly.

      He snatched it up and from his side of the conversation I’d clearly guessed right.

      ‘Mummy, can I call you back? This is a really bad time and – no, of course I care that you’re having a heart attack! Listen, Mummy, don’t –’ He paused and I could hear high-pitched and imperative quacking coming from the receiver. ‘Yes, all right, I’m on my way,’ he said resignedly, and put down the phone.

      ‘Summoned to Tunbridge?’

      ‘She’s feeling really ill. I’m sure it’s nothing but indigestion as usual, but I’d better go. I’ll be back later tonight and then we can talk things through.’

      ‘I don’t think we’ve anything further to discuss, Justin!’

      ‘Look, I know you’re upset –’

      ‘That’s the understatement of the year!’

      ‘But you must understand it was just a moment of madness – weakness, vanity – call it what you like.’ He ventured one of his persuasive, glowing smiles, the one most women found irresistible. ‘I’ve been a fool, but I don’t want to lose you, darling, and I hope you’ll be able to forgive me. I’ll ring you when I know what time I’m coming back.’

      ‘Don’t bother!’ I said tersely, then locked myself into the boxroom and cried until I heard him leave the flat. When I went out again, the place seemed even colder and emptier than ever and I felt much the same. I was shivering, though that was probably just with shock.

      I washed my swollen red eyes with cold water, then went round the flat collecting everything that was mine and stowing it all away in whatever bags, boxes and suitcases I could find. Then I brought the Mini round to a handy space near the front door and packed as much as I could into it. I suppose it was lucky I’d always stored most of my stuff up in Lancashire in my old bedroom, as if subconsciously I’d known my stay here was temporary.

      Only my little drawing desk and a couple of large portfolios remained, and I left those in the boxroom, with a note asking him not to let his mother throw them out until I’d got Timmy to come round with his camper van to pick them up for me.

      I took one last look round at the sterile rooms, which resembled a minimalist stage set without all my brightly coloured bits and pieces, and then I was off – straight back north like a homing pigeon.

      I could have stayed the night with Timmy and Joe, though they’re the other side of London, but I didn’t think of that until I was well on the way to Sticklepond, when it suddenly occurred to me that I couldn’t just turn up early – it would be a shock to Aunt Nan – so I stopped at a motel chain for the night. I was in no fit state to drive any further that night anyway, really, because I don’t think I’d stopped crying since Justin had left the flat and everything just kept playing over and over in my mind.

      Justin texted me on my mobile several times, presumably after he returned and found me gone, but I deleted his messages unread. There wasn’t anything he could say that could make this better.

      Chapter 6: True Lovers Not

       As well as the bara brith and Welshcakes, Mother taught me how to make Meddyginiaeth Llysieuol, which is Welsh for herbal medicine, though really it’s a sort of honey mead with herbs and very good for you. I still make it and I’ve shared the recipe with Tansy, though I’m not giving it to anyone else. I’ve been asked for it time and again, and that Hebe Winter up at the manor would love to get her hands on it. She fancies herself as a herbalist but even she can’t guess what the special ingredient is that Mother put in! Meddyg, as we call it in the family, cures most things except old age, though I expect a glass or two will help to ease me out of this world and into the next.

      Middlemoss Living Archive

      Recordings: Nancy Bright.

      As I drove back towards Sticklepond I thought I should never, ever have left there in the first place. After all, I could have done my graphic design course somewhere close, like Liverpool.

      Justin had so not been worth the years in London, which I could have spent with Aunt Nan instead … though she’d been the first to urge me to spread my wings and see a bit of the world.

      And if I’d never gone to London I’d probably be happily married to someone local by now, and not even known my wicked stepsisters existed. I meanly wished I could say they were as ugly as the ones in Cinderella, but they weren’t, though Rae had certainly done a mean and ugly thing.

      I hoped I’d never have to see either of them again, even if Marcia, the older one, was living up here since she’d got that regular part in the cast of Cotton Common. But Lars had said her flat was in Middlemoss, a few miles away, so with a bit of luck, our paths were unlikely to cross.

      Lars himself was on my mind because he was bound to find out I’d left Justin at some point and ask me why. I was fond of him, so I couldn’t tell him what Rae had done, or that Charlie, whom he adored, was Justin’s, could I?

      I felt a pang in my heart at the thought of the sweet little boy, who seemed by nature to be taking after Lars rather than his mother, which was a blessing. In features and colouring he looked just like the Andersons, very fair and with bright blue eyes, rather than with Justin’s Viking tawny hair and ruddy complexion.

      Ruddy Justin!

      No, I couldn’t face phoning Lars up and lying about my reasons for leaving Justin – not right now. Perhaps I’d feel braver later and think up a good story, or edit Rae out, or something.

      I was overcome with hunger – emotion gets me like that usually; it was surprising it hadn’t happened earlier – so I stopped for a carbohydrate-packed lunch, then called Timmy from the car afterwards and told him what had happened.

      ‘Well, I can’t say I’m really surprised, because we never liked him,’ he said. ‘He simply wasn’t good enough for you, darling, but I’m terribly sorry you found that out in such a horrible way. Those stepsisters of yours were a pair of bitches to you, right from the moment you moved into their father’s house. Bit like Cinderella,