Kate felt the Boots bag swing from her wrist. Oh shite! She lowered it swiftly. Her brain buzzed with the craziness of it all, a knot of tension flaring into a headache.
Kate nodded at Sophie,
bitch, bitch, bitch
, then looked again at Michael, unable to hide the hurt from her eyes. “I–I’d better get on.” Get out of here. Right now.
“Okay.” Michael’s tone was soft, relieved no doubt that she wasn’t going to make a scene. “I’ll see you tomorrow when I come and collect the girls.”
Kate looked at him blankly.
“Tomorrow, after school. You said it would be alright.”
Had she? She just nodded, ready to go. Get away from all this fake fucking politeness, when all she really wanted to do was kick Michael in the balls.
“Bye, then,” her mouth was dry.
“Bye,” his voice seemed sad, loaded with a tone of guilt, pity. They parted ways, walked on, Kate briskly. She realised she was trembling.
She didn’t need his pity. All she had ever needed was his love.
PART TWO
“The hardest thing to do is watch the one you love, love someone else.”
Anonymous
Chapter 14
“We’re in!” He pushed wide the white-painted front door. “It’s ours. It’s really bloody well ours!”
They bounced together like a couple of kids in the empty hallway. Then she was in his arms being swung around.
At last! All those months of house-hunting, offers, mortgage applications, solicitors, the problems with the chain further down the line, the crisis when the old lady nearly pulled out on them. This house seemed like a dream they were never going to achieve. But here they were, the proud owners of No. 6 Percy Walk, a lovely stone townhouse on the edge of Alnwick.
Michael set her down to the floor again, but still held her hand, the key in his grasp, within hers, too. Grins plastered onto their faces. The furniture van was due to arrive shortly.
“Come on, Kitty.”
He led her around the downstairs rooms, one by one. The lounge with its big bay window overlooking the street and Victorian tiled fireplace, the rear dining area with French doors that opened onto the walled garden – walls of the same honey-grey stone as the house, roses rambling and weeds crouching at their base. The garden was in need of some TLC, admittedly. But it had potential, and plenty of shrubs and grass that would easily tidy up. It was a family home, a family garden – a place to start their family.
Back out to the hall. They dashed on into the kitchen, where he pressed her to him against the units, his body firm, animated. They laughed, then he kissed her, full on the mouth. She pulled apart just a little, surprised by the passion of it, caught his eyes, which were smiling mischievously. Then she drew back in again, their lips slower now, hers welcoming his.
“Well, then, Mrs Armstrong. Welcome to your new home!”
“Well, thank you, Mr Armstrong.”
“To the garden or upstairs?”
Katie felt almost tipsy as she grasped his hand in answer and led him upwards. The stairs creaked here and there as they skipped them in twos. They investigated the bathroom, the small third bedroom, a large double and then paused in an even larger double, the one that looked over the back garden. She had already decided on an earlier visit that this would be theirs. Yes, she could picture their queen-size bed there and the new duvet covers and curtains she had yet to pick. Something simple, white cotton maybe, with an embroidered trim. She stood alone looking out of the window for a few seconds, watching a tabby cat lying high on the wall, sunning himself, imagining the tulips and lupins she might plant in the borders. Michael had stopped in the smallest bedroom, still wondering which room might be best as an office space.
His breath then tickled the back of her neck. His body so very close behind her, resting his chin on her shoulder to look out at the garden, too. His arms snuggling around her.
“It’s really ours, isn’t it,” she whispered,
Kate nodded at Sophie,
bitch, bitch, bitch
, then looked again at Michael, unable to hide the hurt from her eyes. “I–I’d better get on.” Get out of here. Right now.
“Okay.” Michael’s tone was soft, relieved no doubt that she wasn’t going to make a scene. “I’ll see you tomorrow when I come and collect the girls.”
Kate looked at him blankly.
“Tomorrow, after school. You said it would be alright.”
Had she? She just nodded, ready to go. Get away from all this fake fucking politeness, when all she really wanted to do was kick Michael in the balls.
“Bye, then,” her mouth was dry.
“Bye,” his voice seemed sad, loaded with a tone of guilt, pity. They parted ways, walked on, Kate briskly. She realised she was trembling.
She didn’t need his pity. All she had ever needed was his love.
PART TWO
“The hardest thing to do is watch the one you love, love someone else.”
Anonymous
Chapter 14
“We’re in!” He pushed wide the white-painted front door. “It’s ours. It’s really bloody well ours!”
They bounced together like a couple of kids in the empty hallway. Then she was in his arms being swung around.
At last! All those months of house-hunting, offers, mortgage applications, solicitors, the problems with the chain further down the line, the crisis when the old lady nearly pulled out on them. This house seemed like a dream they were never going to achieve. But here they were, the proud owners of No. 6 Percy Walk, a lovely stone townhouse on the edge of Alnwick.
Michael set her down to the floor again, but still held her hand, the key in his grasp, within hers, too. Grins plastered onto their faces. The furniture van was due to arrive shortly.
“Come on, Kitty.”
He led her around the downstairs rooms, one by one. The lounge with its big bay window overlooking the street and Victorian tiled fireplace, the rear dining area with French doors that opened onto the walled garden – walls of the same honey-grey stone as the house, roses rambling and weeds crouching at their base. The garden was in need of some TLC, admittedly. But it had potential, and plenty of shrubs and grass that would easily tidy up. It was a family home, a family garden – a place to start their family.
Back out to the hall. They dashed on into the kitchen, where he pressed her to him against the units, his body firm, animated. They laughed, then he kissed her, full on the mouth. She pulled apart just a little, surprised by the passion of it, caught his eyes, which were smiling mischievously. Then she drew back in again, their lips slower now, hers welcoming his.
“Well, then, Mrs Armstrong. Welcome to your new home!”
“Well, thank you, Mr Armstrong.”
“To the garden or upstairs?”
Katie felt almost tipsy as she grasped his hand in answer and led him upwards. The stairs creaked here and there as they skipped them in twos. They investigated the bathroom, the small third bedroom, a large double and then paused in an even larger double, the one that looked over the back garden. She had already decided on an earlier visit that this would be theirs. Yes, she could picture their queen-size bed there and the new duvet covers and curtains she had yet to pick. Something simple, white cotton maybe, with an embroidered trim. She stood alone looking out of the window for a few seconds, watching a tabby cat lying high on the wall, sunning himself, imagining the tulips and lupins she might plant in the borders. Michael had stopped in the smallest bedroom, still wondering which room might be best as an office space.
His breath then tickled the back of her neck. His body so very close behind her, resting his chin on her shoulder to look out at the garden, too. His arms snuggling around her.
“It’s really ours, isn’t it,” she whispered,
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