Outraged muttering noises could be heard coming from the other customers.
‘I’m going,’ Nell said angrily, and tried to push past Anneliese.
‘No, you’re not!’ hissed Anneliese back. She was taller than Nell and stronger. She was so angry that she wanted to hit out and wipe that simpering lipsticked smile off Nell’s stupid face.
‘Anneliese,’ said Benny, speaking for the first time. Geraldine’s husband was a gentle giant of a man and he got slowly to his feet to intervene.
Jodi stepped in before he could.
‘Anneliese,’ she said, ‘please, don’t.’
Anneliese felt Jodi’s hands on her, gentling her the way someone would gentle a young horse. ‘You don’t want to do this, not now.’ Jodi was stronger than she looked and somehow she managed to manoeuvre Anneliese away from the door. Immediately, Nell pushed it open and rushed off into the dusk.
Geraldine stood for a moment, staring at Anneliese.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ineffectively. ‘Sorry.’
‘Sure,’ muttered Anneliese.
Jodi hauled her into the bar part of the Nook and found a corner as far away from the door and her ex-friends as was possible. There, Anneliese slumped on to one of the purple suede seats and put her head in her hands, not caring what she looked like or who saw. Let her life be lived in the open with her dirty linen fluttering around in the breeze for all to see. Nell would tell her side of the story anyway.
Jodi didn’t wait for a waitress but went to where the mugs and coffee jug were kept for the waiting staff.
‘Here,’ she said, putting a steaming mug down on the table. ‘Have this.’
She sat as close to Anneliese as she possibly could and put her arm around her. ‘I know you’re in shock, but have some coffee, it’ll give you a jolt.’
‘I thought brandy was the answer for shock,’ Anneliese said, wrapping her hands around the steaming mug.
‘Bad for the heart,’ Jodi said briskly. ‘I don’t want to have to drag you right back up to the hospital on a stretcher.’
Anneliese laughed weakly. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Sorry you had to see that. Guess you aren’t looped into the Tamarin rumour mill or you’d have heard that my husband left me for her, my ex-best friend.’
‘No, I didn’t know,’ Jodi said. ‘We’ve not lived here long enough to be in on the round-robin emails. Does Yvonne know?’ she asked, referring to her next-door neighbour and Anneliese’s friend from the Lifeboat Shop.
‘I don’t know.’ Anneliese shrugged. ‘I didn’t tell her yet, couldn’t face it. Although she’s a good friend and she’d probably be on my side. God,’ she said, ‘why do there have to be sides in marriage break-ups?’
‘Most people don’t want to take sides,’ Jodi replied.
But Anneliese wasn’t listening.
‘Actually, it’s not a marriage break-up,’ she said. ‘It’s a marriage grenade launch or landmine or something. Break-up is far too innocuous a word for it. Break-up implies you knew it was coming, and I didn’t. I hadn’t a clue. How stupid does that make me? Don’t make that mistake, Jodi. Keep your eyes open in your marriage. Forgive me,’ she apologised. ‘You don’t need my advice. You young people, you’re better at relationships than my generation. We think we have to stay in them no matter what; it’s a sign of weakness if you walk out. Maybe it’s a sign of weakness to stay when it’s all pretty crap. I didn’t know it was crap, I thought it was OK. Forgive me,’ she said again. ‘You don’t want to be burdened with this. The tawdry details of other people’s marriages. I didn’t mean to shock you.’
‘You didn’t shock me at all,’ Jodi said, shrugging. ‘Breakups happen all the time. My parents are divorced.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Anneliese said.
‘Don’t be,’ Jodi replied. ‘It’s better this way. When I was a kid, they did nothing but fight when me and my brothers were in bed, and then they’d pretend everything was perfect when we were up, like we were deaf and couldn’t hear them shouting. It’s better this way. They’re both happy, just not together.’
‘And that didn’t put you off marriage?’ Anneliese enquired.
‘No, it put me off arguments. Dan and I don’t argue. I used to think there was something wrong with us. Everyone says you need passionate fights in a marriage, but we’ve never had that. We have disagreements and we both get really upset because we’re fighting with the other person. I don’t think we’ve ever had a stand-up screaming match. I wouldn’t want to.’
‘Me neither,’ said Anneliese, thinking that she should have used the past tense because she wasn’t likely to be having a significant other ever again, so her not liking marital arguments was very much in the past. ‘I didn’t like screaming matches,’ she amended. ‘We never had stand-up screaming matches in our marriage. Edward and I got on pretty well. Not saying it was always easy, but we had Beth and we had to try and just muddle through the hard times.’
‘Beth’s your daughter? What does she think of all of this?’
‘She doesn’t know.’
‘You haven’t told her?’
‘No, I haven’t told her. I’m going to have to because she’s coming to Tamarin to see Lily and she’s going to go crazy when she finds out that her dad and I aren’t together.’
‘Why haven’t you told her?’ Jodi asked.
‘I don’t know how,’ Anneliese sighed. She thought of how she’d tried to keep things from Beth all her life. To make everything perfect. It was over-protectiveness, she knew, but she’d always felt it was the right thing to do. Beth was such a gentle, fragile soul that she couldn’t cope with life’s pain. It was Anneliese’s job as a mother to shield Beth from the pain, and now there was no option but to land her right in the middle of it.
‘I’m going to have to tell her. I just don’t know how I’m going to do it.’
‘Say it out straight,’ Jodi advised. ‘That’s what I’d like, if I was your daughter. Your niece, Izzie, she knows, right?’
‘Yes, I told Izzie. I told her today, actually, and she was pretty shocked.’ Anneliese winced at the thought of that conversation and how appalling it had been. ‘Izzie’s very strong and sophisticated and the fact that she was so shocked really upset me. Made me wonder how I am going to tell my daughter the same news. I didn’t think anything would shock Izzie, but this did.’
‘It might be hard for her to hear the news because she lives abroad,’ Jodi said thoughtfully. ‘When you’re not living at home, bad news makes you feel guilty for being away. You’ve got guilt for that and then you’re a teeny bit grateful you’re away because it means you don’t have to deal with it so much. That sounds awful, doesn’t it?’
‘No,’ Anneliese said. ‘Just honest. I wish I was far away right now, then I wouldn’t have to deal with anything awful. But that’s not an option. I have to be here for Lily and Beth and Izzie. You’d like them both. Beth won’t be here long but Izzie has an open-ended ticket, so she’ll be around for another week certainly.’
An idea struck Anneliese. Inactivity wasn’t normal for her niece and it was quite possible that Lily would remain in the same state for some time to come, so that Izzie would have nothing to do except sit at her grandmother’s bedside.
It might be good for her to hang